Sequel to Fight, Love, Live
**Complete**
Riley Dixon has had an... interesting nine months to say the least. She killed her zombified ex, found her supposed-to-be comatose brother, made some new best friends, found the love of her life, and had a ba...
A/N: Hey guys, before we start, not to sound rude, but please don't harass me about when I'm going to update. I love that you all love this book, and I'm so happy you like it so much that you feel the urge to contact me and tell me how much you love it. I do love that part, but please don't ask when I'm going to update, because until May 2020 I have zero control of my life. I am expected to be places and to know things within a certain time frame for my degree, and it leaves me with about an hour of spare time a day, and normally when I write for you all, I'm eating while I do it because I'm on my lunch/dinner break, or I should be sleeping. I promise that I update as much as possible, so please don't ask because I won't have a good answer for you and it honestly makes me very frustrated. If you want to talk to me, I'm always free. I get your messages on my phone and it takes me ten seconds to read it and send a reply. But if I see any more comments of IMs asking me to update, I will ignore them.
Thank you all for reading, I am grateful for your votes, and I love helpful comments, criticism, and ideas, but bothering me about my writing schedule doesn't help me to write.
I love you, and enjoy the chapter.
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It's been a week since I saw Merle's bike, and it's been one of the hardest weeks yet. All of the stores we've come across have been entirely cleaned out, and any time we actually find somewhere to settle for the night, a large group of men sneaks up on us, almost like they're trailing us, and we have to flee before they can get to us.
So for the past two nights I haven't even bothered to stop and scavenge for supplies, and we've been sleeping in the car. I guess this areas been claimed by someone, but I don't know who. It's like the men change each time we encounter them, they're never the same. I've counted five different leaders, all different, but all the men are dressed the same. It's strange.
They're either the largest group I've ever encountered, or there's a bunch of different groups following us. Probably the first option if I'm being honest with myself.
"Mommy? Are we almost there?" Dale asked softly, staring over at me from his little car seat, looking thoroughly wrecked from the week we've had. I don't think he's had to do so much yet. It's been hard, and it shows in our faces. He looks tired, sad.
"I hope so baby. I haven't gotten any notes from Uncle Morgan, and we keep getting cut off by those groups... so I don't really know where there is yet." I explained softly, moving my right hand over to stroke his hair out of his face, but he just nodded and looked back down to his lap. I let out a sigh, and moved my hand back to the steering wheel, and when I looked at the road, I had to slam on the breaks.
I jerked my right arm out to grab Dale, so he wouldn't fly forward, but I couldn't move my eyes away from the large group of men standing in front of us. There had to be about thirty of them, they were blocking the road, simply using their bodies, but I could see their cars blocking the road about twenty feet past them, and when I looked in the rearview mirror, there were about twenty more men coming out of the woods, to block any retreat, and I knew there was nowhere for us to go.
"Dale. Stay here? Okay? Stay here." I said softly, and when he started to question me, since I never left him in the car, I simply shushed him, and pushed the door to the SUV open, and hopped out, pulling one of my swords out from their spot on my back with my left hand, and putting my right hand on my gun where it was stored at my hip.
"Hello." The large man in the front of the group in front of me drawled out, swinging a baseball bat covered in barbed wire up onto his leather clad shoulder, a smirk gracing his face.
"Hi." I said calmly, closing the door behind me, and moving to the front of the car, so I was about ten feet away from him. He was very large, he had to be about a foot taller than me, and his shoulders were probably twice the size of mine. He could crush me if he wanted to. But I needed to survive this, in whatever way I could, so I could save my son.
"What's your name beautiful?" He asked, taking a large step forward, and now I could see his dark brown eyes, and I felt like I was looking at the devil.
"Riley Grimes." I said, staring into them boldly, trying not to show my fear, but I could hear Dale's cries coming from the car behind me, and I knew he would be able to soon.
"What's yours?" I asked hastily, trying to cover up the sounds Dale was making, when confusion started to show on his face.
"Negan. Do you know who I am?" I shook my head frantically.
"No, I don't. I'm sorry, I didn't know this land was claimed. I've been trying to get out of it, but your men have been following me." I tried to explain, moving my hand off my gun so he could see I wasn't a threat, and it seemed to work since he let that charming smile grow back on his face.
"Yes, that's my fault I'm afraid. I tell my boys to follow all the people that come through our territory, see if they're going to a group. You got a group?"
"No. I had one, a long time ago. But I left them. Set out on my own." Negan let a glare fall on his face.
"I hate liars Ms. Grimes. And I can tell that you're not alone, and my boys have seen you talking to someone. So who is it? Are they in the car?" He asked, moving forward slowly, dangerously, like an angry lion on the prowl.
"Yes! I'm sorry, my son, he's in the car. He's three. Please, please don't hurt him." I begged, moving so he wouldn't be able to get to the passenger side door, throwing my arms out to try and stop him, but he didn't come any closer, standing a good six feet away from the car.
"I'm not gonna hurt your son. I'm not gonna hurt you either. Look... if you want, you can come back with us. We have a lot of women in our group, but not a lot of kids. It could be nice, having a young one around. We'd protect you. If you want." Negan offered, handing his bat off to someone behind him, and then turning back to me, holding his hands up, surrendering, offering peace.
"I... I was supposed to be meeting a friend..." I said slowly, and he nodded, understanding.
"Where were you supposed to meet them? We can point you in the right direction."
"I don't know... he just said D.C. Said he'd get us better directions once we got here... but it's been awhile and we haven't heard from him." I explained, lowering my arms, and he copied me, moving a few steps closer so he was about three feet away.
"Well... if you want, you can stay with us 'till you hear from him. We've got the room. It'd be no trouble." He said slowly, and none of his men argued, so I nodded slowly, glancing between the man now holding the bat, and Negan.
