Saga stretched like a cat and flopped back into the blankets with a sigh. Negan was already up, having left with Simon at daybreak to do some rounds to the neighboring settlements. It was nice to have a little time to herself to sleep in, so Saga just enjoyed it. After a few hours, she finally poured herself into a pair of jeans and a bright red "Virginia is for Lovers" t-shirt she had found stuffed into a corner of Negan's drawer. It amused her enormously. Pulling her boots on over bare feet and stuffing the laces inside, she wandered lazily out into the camp and looked around. She spotted a few of her own people, mostly from outside her closest circle, though she spotted the blue shock of Mal's hair and waved to him. He raised his fingers in a quick acknowledgement and returned to the project he was working on, which from her distance, Saga couldn't quite identify. It looked like he was sewing shoelaces together.
She worked her way through the camp for a while, just observing the various people until she found herself back near the front again. There was a roar building a little ways off, so she swung herself up onto one of the look-out posts and crouched beside the man posted there. He glanced at her and she gave him a thin-lipped smile. She recognized him as one of the few Saviors who seemed to respect her rather than fear her and didn't consider her solely a sexual object. His name escaped her at the moment and she made a mental note to ask Negan or Simon later. "What's up?" she asked quietly.
"Trouble," he replied in the same tone.
Something to do with corn, she thought, struggling to remember his name. Maizey? Silk? Kernal? "What kind of trouble?"
"It's coming down from where Negan and Simon went this morning. I don't like the sound of it."
Cobb. His name was Cobb. Saga bit back a pleased grin and squinted down the road through the trees. "It sounds like engines. Motorcycles?"
"Probably our guys coming back," he agreed. "But there's too many. We never make that much noise, especially coming back to camp."
Saga frowned and glanced at him. "Got another one of those?" she asked, indicating the rifle he had slung over his arm.
He grinned and handed her his. "You're a better shot than I am," he said.
"How do you know?" she grinned, settling it against her shoulder and sighting down the barrel.
"I've seen you practicing."
Saga paused and glanced at him, but he wasn't making eye contact. With an impressed little smile, she settled back with her hip against the side of the platform, peering through the scope toward the head of the trail. A single motorcycle came flying up the trail, its rider swinging a machete back and forth to clear the path of any walkers that might have wandered in past the clearing teams. It was Simon, more coming up for show than necessity. Shortly behind him came Negan on another motorcycle dragging something behind him in what looked like a bloody burlap sack. Lucille was strapped to his hip and already streaked in blood. The rest of the morning's crew came along with them, their engines rattling. Saga could see people tied up and thrown across the backs and laps of the riders. "They've got prisoners."
"Shit." Cobb stood up and stretched himself against the post, straining his eyes toward the group. "Wonder what happened."
"We'll know soon enough," Saga mused, handing him the rifle back and dropping down to the ground again. She joined the gathering of people around the center of camp as the motorcycles roared to a stop. When Negan cut the engine and stood up, he spotted her in the crowd and his lips barely flickered in a smile. He was focused and all business, so she just smiled back. He fell into a familiar patter, swinging Lucille has he paced the circle. The people they had brought back were already sufficiently terrified, but listening to Negan talk about equitable arrangements and being polite was enough to make anyone nervous.
