Negan's blood ran cold as the boom of the steel door closing felt like the nail in a coffin. He wasn't sure that he'd ever see his Lieutenants again, and the clench of his chest was something he hadn't felt in a very long time. Pre-apocalypse, to be sure.
After the end of the world, he'd had nothing left to lose. Hell, after Lucille he'd had nothing left to lose—the apocalypse was just icing on the cake. He'd swaggered his way through the wasteland, King Shit of Turd Mountain because he didn't care whether he lived or died.
But now he'd built something. He'd built something and people depended on him to keep them safe. He had a team, sure, and he knew that they would be able to keep shit together in his absence, but he didn't want to leave them to do that. He wanted to be there with them.
For the first time since the New World Order, Negan was afraid to die.
But, at heart, he was a stubborn fucking creature. And there was no way he was going to go down without destroying Spencer's skull. The fuck had laid his slimy hands on far too many of Negan's ladies, and he wasn't going to stand for it.
The asshole in question opened the back door of a nearby jeep, and Negan's eyes rolled so hard they nearly fell out of his head.
Sitting there, bound and waiting for a traveling buddy, was Rick the fucking Prick.
Daphne immediately wriggled closer to Arat, trying not to headbutt her in the total darkness. She grunted and gave muffled encouragement for her coworkers to make noise so they could find each other.
Her shoulder finally bumped flesh and she rolled, bound hands groping behind her for Arat's gag. She pulled it down and the golden-skinned warrior sighed in relief.
"Fuck, thank you," she blurted. "Let's flip over and I'll do yours." Daphne obliged gratefully, heart pounding as Arat groped along her cheek to find her gag in the dark. The engine of the truck whirred to life.
"Shit," Daphne said as the fabric fell free of her mouth. "I don't know how long we have before that fuck kills Negan."
"What fuck?" Arat asked, grunting as she tried to maneuver around Simon. "Some random Alexandrian assholes tossed us in here a few minutes before you showed up."
"Spencer, that dickless frat boy that tried to campaign us the day we cased Alexandria," Daphne replied. "Have you guys been there the whole time too?"
"Yeah, since the ambush near the Hilltop," Simon replied as Arat finally freed his mouth. "Stay put and I'll roll over and work on your hands," he instructed, and wriggled his way over so that they were back to back. "Glad the boss man's alive."
"Yeah, now sure for how long, though," Daphne braced herself as the truck started to move, jostling them about a bit. "That fuck is walking around in Negan's jacket, saying he's going to kill him in front of the whole Sanctuary and take over."
Arat barked a laugh, and the blonde felt her heart swell at the woman's confidence. She'd missed her friends while she'd been hanging with tigers and then being kidnapped.
"That'll happen," the sarcasm dripping from Arat's voice was palpable. "Ow, shit, don't pinch me."
"Sorry, babe," Simon apologized.
"I'm so sick of being fucking tied up," Daphne commiserated. Though at least ropes were more mobile than being stuck in a cell.
"Then stop getting tied up, damsel," the mustached man teased.
She wanted to punch his face. "Ugh," she groaned, and raised her head from the floor, letting it fall back down again in frustration.
"Hey," Arat said in a no-nonsense tone. "No time for self pity, blondie. We've got a megalomaniacal moron to kill, so we can save our own megalomaniac."
Daphne couldn't help but laugh at that.
"Ah, there we go," Simon said triumphantly, and the excited shuffle that followed included Arat kissing him square on the mouth. She made quick work of her ankles, and then freed the other two.
"Keep your strength up with that leg, we might need you to run later," Daphne instructed as the two women staggered to the back door to find the latch.
"It's been removed from this side," Arat grunted as she nearly sliced open her hand on the cut steel.
"Shit—" Daphne began, but she was cut off by a sharp POP, and then they were all thrown violently to the side.
Daryl cursed under his breath as Spencer shoved Negan into the backseat next to Rick, and then jogged around to hop into the passenger side. The vehicle led a convoy, the transport truck following last.
He attempted to move from his vantage point, but the cold metal of a gun against his throat made him stop dead.
"What happened here?" a female demanded, and he recognized the no-nonsense firmness that had come through Daphne's radio many times.
"Mutiny," he replied simply, raising his hands to show that he wasn't going to try anything.
"Your people or my people?" she asked.
He took a deep breath. "Both. My leader, your leader. Three Saviors."
"Turn around," she instructed, and took a step back so he could comply.
Daryl stood and turned, staring down at the hard face of a short but tough-looking woman. The hair on the left side of her head was caked with blood, even in the moonlight he could clearly see that, but her eyes were level.
He didn't know what she wanted from him, but he hoped that he could convince her to help him. He had to save Rick. Working together could be mutually beneficial.
"You kidnapped the Lieutenant," she said, and it sounded less like an accusation and more like an observation.
"I didn't mean to," he protested quietly. He really hadn't. Carol had lashed out, and Jesus had taken advantage of the situation...but all Daryl had wanted was to keep Maggie safe. He would have given himself up to the Saviors a hundred times over just to keep her and the baby safe. "Once it started...I just had to go with it."
The woman narrowed her eyes at him. "This mutiny," she said, "what is the goal?"
"From what I can see, they want to take over the Sanctuary," he replied. "They're going to kill as many people as they have to to do it."
She raised her chin. "And how badly do you want to save your leader?"
"I just don't want any more of my friends to die," he replied truthfully, eyes sad. He knew it was unavoidable. It didn't matter what anyone did, in this life, they'd always lose people. But he'd be damned if he wasn't going to try to stop it at all costs. "I wouldn't have left in the first place if I'd known Maggie was still there."
She lowered her gun and pursed her lips. "I could kill you," she informed him easily. "But I could use you."
"If you help me save Rick, I'll come back to Sanctuary quietly," he promised.
She nodded firmly and motioned to his sniper rifle on the ground.
"Follow me," she said, and took off into the trees.
He grabbed the weapon and darted after her, wondering where the hell she was going. They needed to get a vehicle, and that meant taking one from Alexandria.
But when he caught up to her, she was kicking a dirtbike to life, and he didn't think twice before jumping on the back. His ass had barely hit the seat before she sped off, weaving through the trees like she was one with the vehicle.
It wasn't often that Daryl had been on the back of a bike, and being passenger to a stranger in a forest in the dark during the apocalypse wasn't his idea of a good time. But it wasn't long before he could hear the engine brakes of the transport truck, and he focused on their goal to distract himself.
She skidded to a stop near an outcropping that overlooked an expanse of road the vehicles were just skirting.
She pointed to the transport bringing up the rear. "Get the tires," she instructed, and he knew they didn't have much time. This was a perfect vantage point to take out a vehicle, and shooting the jeep would be too dangerous to Rick due to its small size. The Saviors would have an easier time if the transport skidded out.
And then they'd have backup. That was if Daphne didn't immediately put a bullet in his face. But he didn't really think she would. He'd saved the bitch, after all.
He took a deep breath and held it, the scope against his eye, and squeezed the trigger before he could think too hard about it.
There was a crack and a loud pop, and the truck lurched and swerved and then flipped sideways. Daryl winced at the force of it, and then jumped as his new temporary partner actually chortled.
"Good shot, redneck," she commended him, and extended a hand back over her shoulder. "I'm Letty."