9

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Life returned to normal. Or as normal as my life could be in this hell hole. The only difference was, everything got a whole lot worse.

I had embarrassed him in front of his guest, I should have known better, should have had more control. It was easy to berate myself sitting in my cell alone. That didn't mean I would have been capable of any action other than what I had done. I didn't regret it. Though I regretted not stabbing him when I have the chance.

I also regretted how my life has changed since. I was down to one meal a day. Martinez brought it down late in the evening, long after the kitchens had closed and it was always cold. That was now also the only time of day I ever saw the light. Per The Governor's orders the cellblock door stayed sealed the rest of the time and my life became one of eternal night.

It was just me and the snarling biters next door alone in the dark. It surprised me that the added darkness made it so I couldn't sleep. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face when I was awake. I had no idea when I was dreaming, drowning in nightmares, or alone in the dark. The lack of sleep was starting to wear on me, but I didn't stop the training, not for a second, I couldn't. When I couldn't tell if I was awake or asleep I trained. Sit ups, push ups, pull ups, shadow boxing, jumping jacks, kick boxing...anything I could think of. I moved and I moved until I was so exhausted it didn't matter if I was awake or asleep. I worked my body until I was too exhausted for the nightmares to find me.

I paid for what I had done in the ring as well. He pushed me, both times unleashing more biters than I had ever faced and instead of staggering them, he turned them all loose at once. After the first week I convinced he was trying to kill me.

It didn't take long for the good people of Woodbury to figure that out as well. The second week they didn't even clap. I stood, barely managing to keep my feet, injured and gore splattered over the corpses of fifteen biters. The same biters that had been snarling at me all week in the dark.

Only one person was clapping.

I didn't think, I didn't hesitate I just flung one of the knives. I was too tired and too hurt and the lights were blinding. There were surprised screams from the crowds.

I turned and staggered back towards my cell, not bothering to wait for my guards. I knew the way.

I heard the knife clatter off the bleachers and couldn't find it in me to even be relieved I hadn't hit an innocent bystander. I snorted, and it hurt. I was hurt. There were no innocents here. If I lived, I was going to burn this place to the ground.

The guards didn't follow me and that surprised me a little, but I was too tired to care. There was no way out. The cellblock door was locked. The only open door was my cell. I shuffled into it, pulling the door closed behind me with my free hand. The key was still in the lock and my hand hovered over it as my thoughts raced.

It took a painfully long time for my thoughts to arrange themselves into a decision. I twisted the key, locking myself in. I pulled it out and rushed over to my cot. It was dark in the cellblock. The only light was coming from the door to the ring, which I hadn't bothered to close and no one had followed me yet. I shifted the cot and using the blade I dug a small trench beneath the left leg, I dropped the key in, covered it and moved the cot back into position.

There was shouting out in the ring. I couldn't imagine the fit The Governor was throwing over my stunt tonight. I pressed the back of my closed fist against my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut as though I could block out the pounding pain in my temples. He had been trying to kill me for two weeks. Now I had given him a reason for an execution.

Stupid, stupid Jo.

I wasn't suicidal...I didn't think. I couldn't remember now.

"Stop, reset," I whispered the words out loud this time. As though that would give them more power over my thoughts.

There was more shouting and my eyes snapped open on instinct. A shadow crossed the doorway and I quickly dropped down onto the bed. I looked down at my hands and was surprised to see one of the steak knives still in my grip. I hadn't even noticed. Without a doubt Martinez would be coming for it. He might even open the cellblock first...

The beginnings of a plan began to shake their way loose of the dusty cobwebs. I slid the blade into my belt and leaned back against the wall and tried not to let myself hope.

I must have drifted off but it could have only been moments later when I heard the sounds of more shouting. I was disoriented. I blinked, trying to remember when I had slept. But I hadn't. I had only sat down. I frowned, not quite understanding.

Then there was the unmistakeable sound of gunfire followed by more shouting. It wasn't just a few shots either, it sounded like a War was going on out there.

I jerked up and was surprised to find myself in complete darkness again. I must have passed out. I blinked as I swayed and spots of color danced in front of my eyes. I had been hurt worse out there tonight than I thought. Either that or I was just that weak now. I gnashed my teeth together hating that thought. But two weeks of minimum food and next to no sleep plus the rounds of training I was forcing myself through...it was more than even my considerable force of will could get me through.

I tightened my fist around the handle of the knife as I listened to the gun fire going on above my head. There were a few loud bangs that shook the ground and made me wonder if someone had grenades. I don't know how long it went on, I started counting once it felt like forever. There were only a handful of biters left in the cage beside me, and the noise had them excited.

I counted out what was closeto an hour before the gunfire started to die down. It came now and then in single spurts but thousands of rounds had been spent.

Someone had attacked Woodbury. I thought about the stranger, The Fox as I had taken to calling him in my head. The Fox in the hen house. Had negotiations broken down? Or had he just decided to take what he wanted. I had been trying to listen over the past two weeks, but I was in solitary. The only person I had seen when I wasn't fighting was Martinez and he wasn't one for chatting.

So it could be The Fox and his men, or another settlement. The Governor had spoke as though there were others.

The gunfire had stopped now, all I could hear was the quiet growling of the biters next door. And in the dark, as long as I stayed silent, they didn't notice me.

I counted off close to another hour before my nerves started to go. It was silent, dead silent. I could get out of my cell but if they had locked the door to the ring, and if everyone was dead, I was going to starve to dead in this cellblock.

Something that I was pretty sure was fear ran through me. It took a moment to recognize it for what it was. I hadn't feared death in the ring for a long time now. But starving to death in this hole, that was something I couldn't fight, and the thought terrified me.

I moved to the back of my cell and crouched down, closing my eyes as I started to count off what I was sure would be my third hour.

I didn't make it more than ten minutes. I hadn't realized I had been rocking until the sound of foot steps made me freeze. My head felt weird and my muscles ached but I stared at the door. It was a group of people, too many steps, too loud for just three men. But the metal stairs echoed up the cement staircase making it impossible for me to guess how many were coming down.

There was pounding around the cellblock door and I heard muffled swearing. Someone yelled and then there was the sound of running footsteps. I slid the blade out of my belt, holding it low at my side and didn't move. The footsteps came back and there was a clanking of keys.

The door swung open and flashlights flitted over the room. "I hear 'em," a gruff voice said. "But I don't see them."

"Looks like cages," another voice called from the doorway.

"Those sick bastards must be keeping some as pets, did you see that ring?"

"Shut up McGrath," the first voice snapped impatiently. "Find the lights," he ordered. "The rest of this dump has juice, I don't see why this place shouldn't."

There was no warning when the lights flashed on. They burned and blinded me, leaving me gasping. I was rubbed at my eyes with my free hand, desperate to be able to see. I needed to assess the new threat. The lights left me vulnerable and in that short time, they found me.

"Holy shit," some one muttered.

"Give me the keys," another said.

I heard the keys clanking in the cell door and the door swing open. I opened my eyes.

"Hey," The one in the lead called to me. "It's okay," he said in what was probably meant to be a reassuring voice.

It didn't reassure me. His words didn't even process. I was too far gone to understand they were possibly trying to help me.

I stared at the men in front of me. My tired brain tripping over itself as it fought to figure out which one posed the greatest threat. It was cataloging instinctual observations faster than my labored thoughts could track. There were six of them, not good odds, even for me. Not when I was this tired. Not tired, exhausted. Exhausted and hurt.

I only had the one knife, which meant if I threw it offensively I was done. I would be able to kill one of them, but the others would easily overtake me. Which meant I was going to have to play defense. I hated defense.

"Sir, we have a situation down here," somewhere in the back of my mind I recognized they were speaking into a radio of some kind. "I think we found what we were looking for."

"I'm on my way," a rasping voice answered, crackling over the walkie talkie I couldn't see.

Every single one of the men seemed to relax at that for some reason. I tensed. It meant someone worse was coming, someone who made all these military looking men feel like they didn't need to be in charge. Things were going to get worse, they always got worse.

I closed my eyes for a moment. Stop, reset. I had to keep control. Had to keep a clear mind.

We were all waiting together, the tension thrumming through the room was almost too much for me to handle. But I never moved, not one inch. I stayed in a ready crouch, watching their hands and shoulders for some sign they were going to attack.

Then I heard it, the footsteps on the stairs, they were slow, almost lazy. Like whoever was out there had all the time in the world. Like what was going on in here didn't matter. The door creaked open slowly, but I didn't let myself take my eyes off the men closest to me. Proximity made them the most dangerous. In one swift movement however they all dropped to a knee. Their sudden movement made me raise my knife, but I didn't have a target. I started to tremble as the first licks of panic took hold.

"Well what do we have here," a husky voice drawled from somewhere behind the group of men.

They slowly backed out of the way as a man emerged from the stairwell. I didn't let myself look at him until he was the one standing in the doorway of my cell.

There was a part of my brain that recognized him, but so much of it was focused entirely on survival I couldn't make the connection.

He stood in the cell staring down at me as I ran my eyes over him. He had a bat in one hand, but it was down, low, nonthreatening. He was athletic though, he would be quick, and he was tall. He would have a tremendous reach with the bat. His shoulders were powerful which meant there would be a lot of strength behind the strike. They key was to stay out of this man's reach no matter the cost. He was my target, he was so obviously the most dangerous man in the room all the rest faded into the background as I slowly raised my eyes to meet his.

He smiled at me. "Hi," he greeted confidently, as though we were meeting for the first time over drinks. As though I wasn't crouching on the floor of a cell at his feet, gripping a knee.

"I'm Negan."

It was him, the stranger, The Fox. They had invited him in and here he was, raiding the hen house. Unlike the others however he didn't have a gun, just the bat. My eyes traveled to the barbed wire on the end. It was clean. He hadn't dirtied his hands tonight.

"Sir-" one of them men started to say.

Negan's head snapped toward the man, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Excuse you, can't you see I'm talking to my new friend here. It is rude as shit to interrupt." The movement had been fast and controlled, faster than I would have anticipated he could move.

I tightened my hand on the knife, willing myself to stop shaking, stop panicking. I had to think. And I couldn't, not like this. I just needed to focus. Like I did in the ring. Block everything else out and just focus on this one moment in time. Nothing else could touch me here.

"I'm sorry sir." The man stammered over his words, keeping his head lowered submissively.

Negan nodded appreciatively, "Now, I think you owe my new friend here an apology as well."

"Yes sir, sorry sir," he turned and glanced at me. "Sorry ma'am," he said nodding curtly.

It was surreal. I felt like I wasn't able to track the conversation properly, it was all speeding by around me and I was left struggling to identify individual words.

"Good, now, you boys can take a walk while I have a little chat with my new friend here."

"But Sir, I don't think-," one of the men started to say.

Negan whirled towards him, the bat coming up within the movement so when he was facing his men, the bat was resting in a deceptively casual place on his shoulder.

"Negan leaned towards the man who had spoken. "I must have misheard you, I thought I heard the word 'think' come out of your mouth. But that can't be right, because I know I don't pay you to think. Get out," he ordered.

The men didn't hesitate again, they practically tripped over their own feet in their haste to get to the door. Negan stood and watched them go. He waited until the last one left, closing the door behind him before he turned back to me.

"I want you to know," he said. "I am a man of my word." He studied me for a few moments, his eyes serious. I don't know if he was waiting for a reaction of some kind, but I was beyond that. After a few silent moments he nodded too himself. He took in the knife at my side and strangely, he set his bat down. Leaning it against  the outside of my cell. He took a step into the doorway and I tensed.

He noticed and he held himself very still. Then, he lowered himself down into a crouch. All the while he never took his eyes off my face.

He cleared his throat. "I am a man of my word," he repeated and when I once more didn't react, he bit his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Do you understand me?" He asked finally.

I licked my lips and nodded, but it came too fast. "In my experience men who are 'men of their word' don't feel the need to go around telling people," it was snarky, I knew it was, but I was tired, and hurt and I didn't have it in me to play the game. The only thing that saved me was the fact that my voice hadn't been used much in the last two weeks and it came out more of a croak. Which lessened some of the snark.

He stared down at me in surprise for a second and then a slow, pleased smirk stretched itself across his face. "Well, what do you know," he said and he chuckled, leaning towards me, his eyes glittering with interest. He pressed his lips together as though he were trying to contain his smirk. "I know the type of assholes you are used to dealing with and I want you to know I'm not like that. But you gotta meet me halfway friend."

Strangely enough there were things about him that reminded me of The Governor, but there were things that didn't. He was unarmed and crouching down in my cell and he had sent his men away. He was trying not to scare me, I realized far too late.

And I was scared.

I scowled I couldn't sit here forever. I was going to have to do something, make a decision. I reached forward and I laid the knife down on the ground between us. I exhaled as my fingers released it and I felt like I was losing a limb.

"That's a girl," he said with a smile. "It's important to know when to fight, and even more important to know when it's time to talk some shit out."

I breathed in and out and in and out six times before I could speak. "What do you want?" I asked, my voice harsh from lack of use.

He cocked his head to the side and a lazy smile stretched across his face. "Oh I have already taken everything I want. I'm down here to uphold my end of the bargain. I was going to leave it to my men, but it seems you scared the shit out of them."

I scowled at him, he was talking too fast and it was taking my brain an embarrassing amount of time to process his words. "I don't understand." I finally said.

He nodded but didn't look surprised. "Well my new friend, to put it simply, it is your lucky day. I am busting you out of this hell hole."

"Why," I demanded.

"Isn't it enough for me to want to save a fair damsel such as yourself from the clutches of a psychotic asshole?" He asked dramatically.

I just stared at him.

After a few seconds he laughed. "Or, I made a bargain for the location of this place provided I bring you back with me."

"A bargain?" I asked stupidly. I genuinely didn't understand.

"A bargain," he agreed. "Now come one new friend," he said climbing to his feet. He slapped his thigh and grinned at me eagerly. "We got people to kill and shit to steal."

I jumped to my feet. I was still hurt and the movement hurt. I swayed, but pressed my shoulder blades against the back wall to force myself steady. "Is he dead?" I asked hoarsely.

Negan cocked his head to smirk down at me. "Why? Would you like him to be?" He asked in a teasing voice.

"No," I responded honestly.

He seemed surprised but it only lasted a few seconds. I bent down and picked up my knife, palming it so the blade rested flat against the inside of my wrist. "I want him to still be alive so I can kill him myself."

Negan smiled and it stretched across his entire face. There was a slyness to it and combined with the glimmer of intelligence in his eyes I was convinced my nickname had been on point. The Fox.

"Well, my new friend it is your lucky day." He said and he held his arm out, presenting the door to me, inviting me to go out ahead of him.

I took a few hesitant steps towards him. Just when I would have passed him I stopped and looked up at his face. He towered over me by nearly a foot. It was too close, it was a poor position if he attack me, but I needed to know. "Who did you bargain with?" There were only so many choices, but I was terrified to even allow myself the glimmer of hope.

Negan's sly smirk was back and he leaned down. I stiffened but didn't pull away as he whispered near my ear. "Your baby sister."

I felt my eyes widen and the knife dropped out of my slack fingers. Kate was alive.

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Thank you all for the support, you are amazing. I hope you are enjoying the story!