Chapter 5 - What's the Catch?

Start from the beginning
                                    

"Okay, I lied. I just don't want to be here," she shrugged apologetically. Negan leaned back on Lucille with a small frown, lifting his hand to his heart in mock-offense.

"Well that is just such a fuckin' shame for us. And why is it that you don't want to be here, doll?"

"It's not that I don't want to be here in particular. I would just rather be alone." Aven turned and started making the bed, which only included smoothing the blanket over the thin mattress and plumping the pillow. It wasn't necessarily her responsiblity but she was looking for any excuse to turn away from him.

"Well that's all fine and fuckin' dandy that you'd rather be alone, but if I remember correctly, last time you were all by your lonesome I found you screaming your pretty little head off for help."

"I didn't need h-"

"Darling, I know you're not really about to try to convince me you weren't in the deepest of shits out there," he chuckled. He had on his usual shit-eating grin, ready to easily counteract whatever petty reasons she had for wanting to leave.

"Why do I have to convince you? Why do you care?" She spun around almost violently to face him, reconnecting the eye contact she'd wanted to break a moment ago. They both narrowed their glares, each trying to decipher just who the fuck the other thought they were talking to. It was a staring competition until Negan finally leaned back with a tense sigh.

"Fine, doll, you win. Get your shit together-" he made a wide gesture to her bed, "Oh, that's right, you don't have any shit because I found you helpless and alone in the woods," he added parenthetically, "and I'll get Dwight in here to show you to your room and where you'll be working."

"My room?" Aven asked skeptically. "How many points do I need for a room?"

"Jesus, doll, you really can't just go with the god damn flow, can you?" Before Aven could answer, a short but fierce-looking Savior appeared at the open door.

"Negan, we have a problem," said Arat urgently.

"What is it?" he barked, not yet turning.

"Dwight, Tina, and Sherry took off and raided the med supplies before they split." Her face was hard and mostly unafraid, although she lingered at the door with an air of uncertainty as the bearer of bad news. Usually this was Dwight's job.

"What?!" he roared, spinning around so quickly Lucille almost went flying out of his hand. He stalked towards the door, pulling Arat outside and slamming it shut behind them without another glance at Aven, who remained alone in the room without a clue where she was supposed to go. She shrugged and hopped back into bed to slip under the blanket, a minute away from deep sleep. Her head hit the pillow and she started to drift off, the last sounds she heard being Negan's side of the conversation in the hallway.

"FUCK. FUCK. FUCK!" Every curse was punctuated by the booming sound of an old wooden bat being slammed against a metal door. Aven didn't know it was basically the lullaby of the Sanctuary.

-----------------------------------------

In the next two days when she felt up to it, Aven spent her time walking around the factory and grounds, trying to get a better idea of the atmosphere. What she observed was unsettling. Anyone she came across who was working, whether it was gardening, cooking, or just monitoring inventory, practically radiated exhaustion and misery. These people seemed worn down and directionless. On the other hand, there were the groups of people hanging around just enjoying each other's company, laughing or playing cards, groups of mostly men. Aven put together quickly that they were the soldiers, "the Saviors," Negan called them. They all carried guns, most even flaunting them, further setting them aside from the workers toiling away.

It had been almost two full days that Negan hadn't returned, and Aven felt a small but constant longing for him to visit. She sat alone in the medical room, leaning back against the wall, finally clear-headed enough to process what had happened in the previous few days. Too constantly, unwanted memories inched their way into her mind: the white-haired man from the woods, his mouth and hands on her, his weight, the feeling of the hard forest floor against her back. She pushed them all away and focused on where she was and where she was supposed to go from there.

Dr. Carson came out of the other room smiling warmly at her when he saw she was awake. "Oh Aven, you're up," he began. "You haven't eaten, have you?" She shook her head. "That's not good, you really need to get your nutrients."

"Well, I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to be doing here," Aven confessed. "I don't want to go out of my way to get anything that's going to cost me.

"Well, everything is going to cost you and you need to get healthy."

"I know, I know," Aven rolled her eyes, not frustrated with him but herself. She knew she needed to stay on top of regaining her strength, and she knew she was being stubborn in deciding to put it off until she worked off her debt and left the Sanctuary. "But I just want to work off what I've taken from you guys and I'll be on my way."

"Oh..." Dr. Carson muttered, unable to hide his concern. Aven frowned, feeling as though he wanted to say more.

"I was supposed to start working the other day. Negan was going to show me where I needed to go before he left, but something serious-sounding came up and I think he kind of forgot about me." Dr. Carson only nodded, having already heard the news that had spread throughout the Sanctuary: one of Negan's lead guys fled with his wife and her sister, and there was undoubtably going to be hell to pay. Carson's silence worried Aven, as the skepticism she'd felt about the arrangement weighed heavy in her mind.

"Dr. Carson, can I ask you a question?" Aven began in a serious tone, asking for the full honesty he seemed to be evading. "What's wrong with this place?" Carson bit the inside of his cheek and froze, unsure what liberties he was allowed to take in introducing her to how Negan ran things.

"What do you mean?" he finally answered, clearly knowing full well what she meant.

"I mean, what's the catch?" She kept eye contact, demanding the truth. She was restless, frustrated, curious. The only other name she knew as someone who could help her was Dwight, the guy who was supposed to show her to her room who apparently ran away. She wondered why he fled. Had he done something wrong or was he running from something?

Before Dr. Carson could come up with an answer, the door swung open and a man with a bushy mustache and receding hairline appeared in the doorway.

"Mandatory meeting in 10," he barked at Carson. Bring the girl and get the gauze ready," he chuckled slightly in anticipation as he turned to Aven, who hadn't been conscious when they first met. "Oh boy, looks like you're in for a true Sanctuary welcoming," he said with an off-putting smile and a wild look in his eyes before disappearing back out the door.

Aven got off the bed and slipped her shoes on, frowning down at her clothes. She'd been wearing the same huge t-shirt for at least three days and she would have rather appeared at a meeting with the entire Sanctuary in a proper outfit. She opted to pull the shirt up and tie it at the hem, all too aware of the comments she'd get if it looked like she wasn't wearing shorts underneath. Men were pigs before the world went to shit and nothing had changed there.

She looked up to see Dr. Carson leaning against the doorway of the other room, staring at the floor glumly. When he noticed her staring, he straightened up and managed a small smile.

"Dr. Carson, what's going on?" she asked knowingly. He looked up and away with a sigh, wanting to prepare her but unable to fully do so.

"Look, Aven," he began, stepping fully into the room, "I'm sure you've noticed by now that Negan is...a character." Aven let out a soft snort. Carson was putting it lightly. "The bat is a very accurate example of how he handles things, and...things get ugly sometimes." Aven nodded him on, asking for more information. "I shouldn't say anything, I can't tell you exactly but...just brace yourself, okay? This is probably going to be something you don't need to see, but..." he trailed off.

"What's going to happen?" Aven asked, almost whispering. Dr. Carson was about to answer but he glanced at the clock and ran a hand over his face.

"We have to go. Come on." And with that, he led her out of the room to what would act as her Sanctuary orientation.

Poker FaceWhere stories live. Discover now