VITRIOL | Shane Walsh

The New Frontier

It had been three days; Shane was getting worse. He was constantly falling into and out of consciousness and every pharmacy we encountered either had nothing or was overrun with too many walkers for just me to deal with. We hadn't come across new people or ran into familiar people in the fair bit of distance we had covered in the car. We were running on fumes at this point and lost any sense of direction. I had no clue where we were in the country.

His complexion had grown pale,  his breaths were laboured and his time was running out. I knew this was my final chance to find anything. The dreary-looking factory I had stumbled upon had to hold a promise of safety, a promise of sanctuary.

"Please, don't die while I'm gone" I whispered close to Shane's ear and pressed a kiss to his temple. He let out a strained hum in response before I climbed out the car wielding my bat.

I drew closer to the factory and could hear growls that didn't sound like too much hassle. But as I emerged fully into the entrance of the building, I frowned at them chained up along the fences. Someone had to be here.  Dangerous or not I had to gamble my life or Shane would die. I rattled the gates and shouted at the few people I saw inside. They were unloading trucks before a handful of men came running over with guns aimed at my head. The gates were torn open and I was immediately forced onto my knees.

"Who the fuck are you?" A blonde man harshly questioned prodding his gun into the side of my head.

"Please, please my boyfriend needs help- he's going to die, he's been stabbed and it's infected"

"Shut up, who the hell sent you?"

"Now Dwight, that's no way to talk to a pretty little lady." I heard a rough, gravely voice interrupt. He crouched down to level his eyes with mine and smirked. "What's the problem doll?"

"My boyfriend...he's going to die unless he gets proper treatment. We've got no medical supplies left. Please, we're desperate. I'm desperate." I pleaded, completely at his mercy. The man stared at me for a second before running his tongue along the top row of his pearly white teeth and making a clicking sound.

"Well, we best go get the man then." 

Oh my god, I did it. I found help. He was going to be okay. He picked my bat up off the floor and held it out to me as he stood up. I grabbed the handle, standing up myself, and noticed he had a meaner, more intimidating version wrapped in barbed wire in his other hand.  He sent me with two of his men in a truck they been unloading to go and find Shane. I sighed in relief when I found him 'unscathed' in the car still breathing.

"Let's get him back," one of the men said before he was lifted into the backseat next to me. Shane's head dropped down into my lap and I breathed a sigh of relief. We were going to be just fine.

- - -

When we were rushed inside to their medical facilities, I was amazed at how well equipt they were. This was royal treatment in comparison to what we had on the farm. I had been pulled out of the room which Shane was resting in by the man I'd soon find out was the leader around here. Just by looking at how clean his clothes were in comparison to the other people walking around made it easy to see he was running the show. 

"I didn't even get a chance to introduce myself out there so...hi, I'm Negan" he thrust out his leather-clad hand and held it out for me to shake.

"Pricilla," I placed my hand in his and shook it. I was beginning to grow slightly uncomfortable when he refused to let go of the firm grip.

"Awful shame that's your boyfriend in there, how long two you been knocking boots"

"Seven-ish years"