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"You know," Negan said, sticking out his tongue as he tipped the canteen upside down, "a desert tortoise's bladder can take almost a third of its body ."
He gave it another shake. Not a single drop came out.
"Means those little bastards spend months drinking their own piss."
The empty canteen landed in the truck with a hollow clunk.
Daryl squinted at him, face twisted in disgust. "nasty."
Nevada's Highway 50 cut through a desert paradise—blistering by day, bitterly cold by night. Beyond the distant mountain ranges, the landscape stretched into an endless wilderness where almost nothing else existed.
Unfortunately, one of the two dumbasses hadn't tightened the radiator cap.
Now neither of them had any water.
"Come on, sweetheart..."
Negan popped the hood and jerked his hand back with a curse as the scorching metal burned his palm.
Right in the middle of a summer noon, the truck had decided to abandon them in the middle of nowhere.
Negan's lips were split open. His nose and throat felt like sandpaper. Daryl had long since given up trying to hold a conversation.
The desert wind carried no moisture whatsoever. It was like some asshole standing in front of you with a hair dryer blasting hot air straight into your face, bringing with it dust, sage, and the smell of baked earth.
"Seventy-two miles."
Daryl studied the worn map in his hands.
"Town's seventy-two miles that way. Might have water."
The two of them sat in the truck's thin strip of shade, staring hopelessly at a sky so blue it didn't have a single cloud to break it.
By evening, the sun slipped behind the mountains and the temperature dropped like a rock.
Daryl had somehow managed to shoot a raven. Now he crouched nearby, brutally yanking feathers from the carcass.
"Well, look at that," Negan rasped. "A goddamn feast."
He gathered a handful of sagebrush to start a fire.
Their voices had gone rough from thirst, but both of them still swallowed instinctively at the smell of roasting meat, though there wasn't enough saliva left to make it count.
"Tastes better than turkey on Thanks giving."Negan gnawed on the raven's pitiful wing.
"You know, when those assholes kicked us out, we should've stolen more food. More water, too." He snorted. "Hell, we oughta broken somebody's leg and taken 'em with us as emergency rations."
Daryl shot him a look.
Negan only flashed that familiar, shit-eating grin.
Not long ago they'd wandered into an old mining town. Hardly any walkers. Looked peaceful enough at first glance.
Then Daryl found the slaughterhouse.
Human bodies hung from hooks, skinned clean.
"I was about ready to puke my fuckin' guts out," Negan yelled. "You ain't eatin' me, assholes. My willy tough as steel."
"And my buddy here? He smells worse than a goddamn skunk."
In the end, the town's idea of mercy had been simple.
Give them a dying truck.
Point them toward the endless desert.
And tell them not to come back.
"What is this, fucking Mad Max?"
Negan flipped them the finger and slammed his foot on the gas.
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The desert moon was enormous.
Big enough to make the asphalt glow silver.Frost had begun creeping across the truck windows.
"Cold as hell."
Negan slid closer and wrapped both arms around Daryl.
"We should cuddle up close."
He paused.
"...Then kiss each other nice and deep."
Daryl shoved him once.
Twice.
Negan refused to budge.
"Don't sleep too hard."Daryl stepped on his foot.
Hard.
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It felt like hours before the light woke him.
Negan's eyes snapped open.
Outside the truck windows, countless ancient sea creatures drifted past, their bodies glowing softly in the darkness.
"...Right.This used to be an ocean."
He stared for a second before grinning.
He climbed out of the truck, reaching toward the floating lights as they slipped silently through the air.
Farther away, an endless procession moved across the desert.
Figures made entirely of pale light.
No voices.
No footsteps.
Just an endless pilgrimage beneath the moon.
"Guess that's everybody who turned," Negan murmured.
He watched them pass.
Then he froze.
"...Jesus Christ."
"Lucille."
He broke into a run.
"Lucille!"
The familiar face disappeared deeper into the glowing crowd.
"No—"
He pushed harder.
"Hey! Wait! Wait for me!"
But he couldn't catch her.
He never could.
The ground vanished beneath his feet.
He dropped into darkness, fallen into the sand.
"Help!"
Negan jolted awake, drenched in sweat.His heart hammered so hard hurt.
"Holy shit!"
Something slammed into his shoulder.
Daryl was driving behind the wheel.
Driving like absolute dogshit—one foot on the gas, one on the brake.
"You were dehydrated," Daryl said without looking over.
"Spent half the night talkin' in your sleep."
Negan smacked his lips, suddenly alarmed.
"...What'd you give me to drink?"
"Water."
"My last swallow."
Daryl's voice stayed flat.
Negan didn't answer.
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The town appeared out of the desert like a mirage.
"Well, would you look at that."
Negan climbed stiffly out of the truck.
"A bar."
He laughed.
"I knew civilization wasn't dead.Must be someting good to drink."
Warm club soda tasted awful.
They drank bottle after bottle anyway, so desperately that it nearly brought tears to their eyes.
"No ice."
Negan uncorked a bottle of gin and poured a generous splash into the fizzy water.
"No lime."
He took a long drink.
"Still the best damn gin and tonic I've ever had."
He handed the bottle to Daryl.
"Here, brother. First round's on me."
Even the coldest person alive would smile at the sight of canned SPAM after the apocalypse.
The olives didn't hurt either.Negan pried open a can of ravioli.
"Funny."
He shoveled a bite into his mouth.
"Back before the world ended, I wouldn't have touched this shit."
The desert had preserved everything.
Every walker inside the store had long since dried where it stood, leathery skin pulled tight against brittle bones.They looked less like corpses than relics from Pompeii.
For the first time in days, the knot between their shoulders loosened.
"You think this truck's gonna make it?" Negan asked, already pleasantly drunk.
Then he waved the thought away."Aw, hell... let's stay the night."
He pointed lazily at Daryl."And for God's sake, find somewhere to wash."
"You smell like roadkill.""You smell too."
Daryl took another drink.
Negan settled beside the window, bottle dangling loosely from one hand.
"This is nice."
He looked outside.
"Moon.Booze.Snacks."
"...And a wolf."
Daryl looked up.
"A wolf?"
Down on the empty street, a gaunt gray wolf padded silently between the abandoned buildings.
Negan watched it until it disappeared into the darkness.
"Huh."He smiled.
"Guess somebody kicked him out too."