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

XVII • Nomads

They spent a good ten minutes continuing the beating, throwing him back and forth like children playing hot potato.

"How you doin over there, Simon?" Arat called as Negan finished their job with a rough kiss from Lucille.

"Peachy," Simon replied with a grin, though he looked pale.

"Now that that fuckin' business is taken care of." Negan hoisted Lucille over his shoulder and leaned over Arat's map. There was a bloody fingerprint where their captive had pointed, and he touched the paper slightly east of it. "Take Paula and Simon to Carson, and radio Gavin on the way. Tell him to saddle the fuck up and meet me at those coordinates. Daphne and I will scout the camp, then meet up with him and we'll come down on those bastards like a nuclear fucking bomb."

Arat opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again. She wasn't one to disobey orders and she knew he was giving her this task because she'd want to see to Simon's recovery. It was a gift, one of the moments of Negan's roundabout empathy that most would miss. She thanked him with her eyes and motioned Paula to the jeep.

"So you send your top Lieutenants home and take the rookie on a killing spree?" Daphne asked in a teasing voice as they stepped back into the forest.

"I like watching you in fuckin' action," Negan replied with a grin, swinging Lucille back and forth as they walked. "I could've sent you back, but considering you sent them all packing for the jeep to come rescue me all by your fuckin' self... shit, I'd say you're in this til the bitter end, doll."

"Well it was in the rules," the blonde replied. "I had to rescue each of you and bring you to the jeep. The other three are on their way home, but that leaves you out here, defenseless and unprotected."

There was a twinkle in his eye. "I admire your dedication, strawberry." He consulted the map and motioned towards a smattering of large rocks to their left. "Silent as fuckin' ninjas from here on out," he said, and led the way.

Daphne wondered how many of the Saviors knew their way through the surrounding areas of the Sanctuary so well. How far they had mapped, how far their trade routes went. It was uncanny how easily Negan seemed to move through the woods, as if he had an internal GPS.

The camp was easy to find, as raucous laughter echoed through the trees. They pinned themselves behind a thick oak trunk with a good view and peeked out.

Shadows fell over each set of eyes at the sight before them.

There were at least fifteen men in furs and matted hair about, but were easily outnumbered by the naked women trussed around them. A few were strung from trees by their necks, balancing precariously on their toes to avoid choking, hands bound behind them. A few were strapped to wooden structures face down, lower halves bent for a very obvious use. Others followed their captors on all fours, leashed like Paula had been.

One man sat above them all, on a large armchair in front of the biggest trailer, overseeing the clearing. A woman knelt beside him, eyes red with tears, bound with a ring gag in her mouth. He petted her head almost affectionately, like a dog.

There was a shriek from the other end of the camp as a man dragged a fully clothed but leashed dark haired woman from the bushes.

"Found this one campin' with her hubby." The handler shoved her before the leader. "He was such a fuckin' gentleman beggin' me to take his wife instead of his food," he laughed, "so I took his wife and his fuckin' food."

The woman fidgeted in fear, eyes darting around at all the distressed prisoners around her. "P-please..."

"You're lucky to be rid of that asshole husband." The leader stood, spreading his arms. "Welcome to our camp. We are the Nomads, Kings of the apocalypse. I am Drak." He was definitely the most eloquent of the bunch, but Daphne couldn't help innately snorting at the term 'kings'.

Negan was a fucking King. This guy was a monster.

"Please..." the woman tried again, and he laughed at her.

"Don't worry, bitch, you'll have a good life here. Your place is beneath us, and however long you last it will be a fruitful existence, do you understand?" Drak stepped down from the deck and grinned cruelly at her. "How long you last depends on you. You see those women there?" He motioned to the ones strung from branches, one of which was being pulled up higher than her legs could reach the ground.

She gurgled and choked, three men hooting and cheering and slapping her as she rose, kicking in protest. The clothed woman burst into tears, closing her eyes, and Drak grasped the back of her neck to force her to watch.

"Open your eyes, cunt," he demanded, and she shook as she complied, tears streaming down her face. "That woman outlived her usefulness. She was on the verge of being too loose when we grabbed her, and then just laid there like a limp rag while we fucked her. Boring.

"So if you're a good girl, and you keep us interested, you stay alive, see?" He patted her cheek and she cringed. He took a step back. "Why don't you start by taking off your clothes, hm?" He licked his lips, and she shakily reached up to the top button of her shirt, openly sobbing.

Daphne clutched at Negan's arm, unsure if she was holding him back or trying to hold herself back. She knew they couldn't run in there blind and take out fifteen armed men by themselves, hence the backup they were supposed to meet with.

But this was horrible to watch. The dying hanged woman, this new girl stripping out of clothes that her new captors threw on the fire as she discarded the pieces.

Daphne knew they should retreat, find Gavin, and hurry back. But horror rooted her to the spot as Drak pushed the naked and shaking girl to her knees.

"Don't worry baby, you can be a good girl and not have to like it," he purred. "In fact, I'll enjoy it more if you don't."