Happy Accidents

Chapter 1

//Rick's POV

I looked around at my group, sweat pouring off my face. Everyone was either crying or sweating profusely. The only two people that had dry faces were Abraham and my son Carl.

"Alright!" one of the Saviors called. "Let's meet the man!"

He banged on the door of the RV.

And out stepped a man wearing a leather jacket, a bat with barbed wire wrapped around it over his shoulder.

He smiled at the sight of the group. "We peeing our pants yet?" he asked.

My anxiety got worse just by seeing the man. It seemed like he radiated pure awfulness.

I worried for my son. Carl was simply staring at the man in pure hatred.

The man stepped into the light, revealing scruffy facial hair.

"Boy," he continued. "Do I have a feeling we're getting close." He pointed to everyone in the group. "Now which one of you pricks is the leader?"

"This one," the same Savior that banged on the door said, pointing to me. "He's the man."

The newcomer chuckled and walked up to me.

"Hi," he greeted. "You're Rick, right? I'm Negan."

Oh, no, I thought. We're in deep crap now.

"And I do not appreciate you killing my men," he continued. "And when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people...not cool. Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that is. But I think you're gonna be up to speed shortly. Yeah...you are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes." Negan smiled evilly. "Yes, you are."

"You see, Rick," he continued. "Whatever you do, no matter what, you don't mess with the New World order and the New World order is this, and it's really very simple, so if you're stupid, which you very may well be, you can understand. You ready? Now here it goes, pay attention."

He lightly swung his bat down and pointed it at me, making me move to the side.

Negan leaned down slightly and said simply, "Give me your stuff or I will kill you." He gave another smile and started walking around covering the entire semi-circle the group made.

"Today was career day," he continued. "We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do." He pointed his bat at me again. "You work for me now. You have stuff, you give it to me. That's your job."

He walked back over to me. "And now I know that's a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow," he told me. "But swallow it, you most certainly will. You ruled the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe, I get it. But the word is out. You are not safe. Not even close. In fact you are pegged. More pegged if you don't do what I want. And what I want is half your stuff. And if that's too much, you can make, find, or steal more and it'll even out sooner or later."

"This," he said, gesturing. "Is your way of life now. The more you didn't back, the harder it will be. So if someone knocks on your door, you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us and we will knock it down. You understand?"