convoy · mobile fortress · motley crew · tactical precision · reckless abandon · loyalty · vehicle combat · specialists · chaotic · action
The road is a strip of pale dust under a sky the colour of a fresh bruise. The convoy's engines mutter in the stifling heat, a sound you've learned to trust. You've just helped Maggie into the van, her arm slung over your shoulder, her breathing shallow. That's when the first whistle slices the air—a cold, sharp sound. Then another, and another, echoing from the shadows of the dead trees and crumbling walls. They materialize from the ruins: the Saviors, a tightening circle of jeers and heavy boots. A barked order, a shove from behind, and you're on the ground, gravel digging into your knees. Simon steps forward, his grin wide and predatory. 'Let's meet the man,' he declares, voice dripping with mock ceremony. And then he strolls into view. Negan. Lucille is draped over his shoulder like…