No Sanctuary For Old Men [18+] |Negan| ✔️ Complete

II • Saviors

Daphne carried a crate of canned goods to the road, flanking Mark and three other guys she didn't remember the names of. They had two crates of fresh produce as well as hers.

She was curious about the Saviors. This couldn't be the only settlement they'd made a 'deal' with, and with weekly pickups like this, they must have a lot of people to feed. And being able to send out a group of tough enough people to subdue an entire community without their leader present? That spoke volumes in itself.

A pickup truck bustled up the dirt road and skidded to a stop in front of us. Five guys stepped out slowly, and one with a handlebar mustache and a confident gait strode forward. Daphne had him pegged as Simon before he even opened his mouth.

"Okay, guys," Mark urged, a note of panic in his voice, motioning the crateholders forward. Daphne was last, stacking her box on top of the other two, and Simon bent to look at her.

"You're new," he drawled with a smile.

"Just passing through, stopped to help out for a few days in return for supplies." She offered him a smile in return, and confidently extended her hand to him. "Daphne."

"Simon," he replied, and they shook. He didn't let go of her as he peered over her head at Mark. "You're not holding out on me, are you buddy? You aren't building numbers back there, are you?"

"N-no, sir." Mark shook his head enthusiastically. "She's a traveler. We t-try to help people."

"That you do!" Simon said jovially, and let go of Daphne's hand. "And where might you be traveling to?"

"I didn't have a destination in mind," she said conversationally, shifting her weight and putting a delicate-looking hand on her hip. "But the Saviors piqued my interest."

"Mark's been talking about us, hm?" Simon raised an eyebrow. "Do we need to have another chat with one of your men?"

"N-no!" one of the men behind Daphne cried shrilly, and she rolled her eyes.

"These sad sods are in your pocket, not to worry." She smiled when Simon's attention returned to her. "I've been looking for a community of people that aren't complete pussies. And you guys seem to fit the bill."

"Daphne!" Mark sounded hurt, but she didn't turn to look at him.

The mustached man laughed, looking back and forth to his men for effect. "Are you for real?" He took in her expression and shook his head. "You wouldn't be white knighting these sad sods, as you put it?"

"Do I look like I'm stupid enough to try to singlehandedly take out an organization that's so big it can afford to send groups out weekly to intimidate people into giving them supplies?" Daphne asked, and Simon laughed again.

"Our reputation precedes us." He spread his arms and motioned her forward. "It's your lucky day, lady. We've got some recruits to process today. Be a good girl and take those crates into the back, will you?"

"Daphne!" Mark cried again, a hint of anger in his panicked voice. She picked up a crate and turned to him.

"No hard feelings, yeah?" she said, trying to sound apologetic. She failed, according to the scowl on his face. "We're all trying to survive the apocalypse, and I need a crew that can keep up with me." She smirked, and inclined her head to Simon. "Thanks for introducing us."