Chapter Text
It had been two weeks since the first American "patient" of the outbreak landed amongst the normal folk. Hospitals had set up contingencies deemed effective by the CDC in case someone infected should arrive, but that didn't properly prepare the nurses to actually end up having to deal with someone.
Parker Thomas, that was his name. Thirty nine, didn't last fourteen hours against the infection before he succumbed, his brain dying and then reactivating, but only the vital parts, activating some sort of cannibalistic drive. Basic motor functions enabled his movement, and had the Corporal on Duty, Matthew Nickles, been doing his job, the infection would have never left Parkland hospital.
Parker Thomas' reanimated corpse had escaped his enclosure, and within twenty minutes had bitten dozens of people by chance. Again, had the Coast Guard and CDC done its job properly, all would have been shot on sight, their brain destroyed to prevent the virus from spreading.
Yet of course, the infection, now spread among countless people, worsened the situation.
__________________________________________________
It’s been two years since the apocalypse hit, and with every passing day, the people of Alexandria found themselves developing like they were in the early 1900s. They were an enclosed community with walls as high as 30 meters. They had a small farm amidst the community, houses with running water and electricity, a food room which they called their ‘mini supermarket’, an infirmary, and so on. They could have been deemed as one of the most developed civilizations humanity had seen since the outbreak.
A group had found themselves at the gate of this community; grime, mud, dirt covering their features, blood staining their clothes. They had nothing but their knives and the clothes that stuck to their bodies.
Five women. The leader had asked for the gate to be opened and ushered them in. She stopped them at the entrance and had two of the Alexandrians strip them from their weapons as more of a safety precaution than anything else.
Her eyes scrutinized their appearance. She was wearing more pristine clothing, a formal shirt and dress pants. Her skin wasn’t scarred as if she hadn’t seen what the outside world was like. A smile graced her lips but her eyes hinted at another story.
“Names, please.”
The girls exchanged a few wary looks before one spoke up, her voice gruff and meek. “I’m Dana, that’s Haneen, Hana, Yasmine, and Alia.”
“Georgie,” the lady held out her hand, shaking Dana’s. “You’re welcome to stay here. Alden…” She called for the male that stood near one of the posts, and he swiftly made his way over to her side. “Show these girls around. I think they’ll like it here.”
Within a few months, they were settled in a home of their own. It was a dream to live in one of these American-style houses, with their own beds, a shower, change of clothes, and food. They were working around the community, they had earned their keep within the first week they were admitted. Dana, Haneen and Alia were on guard duty most of the afternoon and only switched with Yasmine and Hana once the sun set. Their shifts were stable for the most part before another group had decided to join Alexandria.
It was five men and one woman. They had learned that their names were Carl, Spencer, Henry, Ron, Zachary, and Maria. They soon took over their positions, and Hana, Haneen, Dana, Yasmine, and Alia found themselves doing other chores like tending to the grown vegetables and to the supply runs. Dana was one of the nurses at the infirmary, having been taught some first aid by their medic. Yasmine and Alia usually went on the runs to gather more medicine, cans of food and whatever else the people of Alexandria needed. Hana and Haneen were in charge of keeping contact with other communities and mentors to the new people that joined.
However, the saying: good things don't last forever soon came into light as they found themselves in contact with the wrong community. They called themselves the ‘Sanctuary’, they were the ‘Saviors’, and their leader was a bloodthirsty maniac that demanded almost 50% of all their supplies: the food, the medicine, the vehicles, _the weapons_. He made them a small show. To prove to them that he was not one to mess with.
They couldn’t shake that day from their heads.
They could recall how the Saviors had busted through their gate, took out their machine guns and massacred ten people, right before their eyes.
Georgie came out, hurt sprawled across her face, anger fuming in her eyes, her teeth gritted and cheeks sucked in.
Their leader came out of the truck, a bat with barbed wire held in place casually against one of his shoulders. He walked almost comically with a grin, the dimple on his right cheek deepening the longer he smiled.
“I’m Negan, and your shit is mine now.”
Georgie shot a glare at Haneen and Hana. How the hell did they get in touch with this community in the first place? For the most part, Alexandria was a secluded, stand-alone community.
“Now, I put on a show for you,” he continued. “I don’t want to do that again. People are a resource.” He sounded almost excited, he was walking towards them now, two men at his side.
“If you don’t want me to make a bigger mess, I suggest we make a deal.”
Georgie huffed but didn’t dare say another word. Her blue eyes sent daggers his way but his smirk never faded.
“You give me half your shit, and I _promise_ not to kill your people.”
Carl, who they soon realised was the leader of the new group that joined, stood before Georgie, his expression turning sour as soon as his eyes landed on the bat. “No.”
The Saviors far outnumbered the Alexandrians by four to one. They had more weapons, they had pistols, machine guns, shotguns, crossbows. Carl was putting them all in danger by doing this.
“You got some balls, kid,” Negan began, “But that shit will not be tolerated. If you want me to bash your head in, I can, but I’d rather not get my pretty Lucille all messed up.”
Yasmine placed a hand on Carl’s shoulder and pulled him back. Hana spoke up before Georgie or Carl could say another word. “Fine. We agree.”
“Good girl.” Negan kept the grin as he retreated back to his truck. “Now I expect to have my shit ready for me by next week. If it isn’t, one of your heads will become best friends with Lucille here. Also, sorry about the mess we made.” With that, he closed the door to the driver’s seat and left with his people in their respective vehicles trailing behind him.
“Sorry isn’t going to help when we kick your ass,” mumbled Maria under her breath as she watched the figures of the trucks disappear into the horizon. They had a whole new threat hanging above their heads, they needed a plan. Fast.