You stood on your porch, arms crossed, watching as the Saviours filtered through like ants. They fanned out, grabbing whatever they could carry, kicking down doors, their laughter echoing off the houses.

And at the front, leading the pack, was Negan. Lucille resting on his shoulder like she weighed nothing. He was grinning, that sickening grin that made your stomach turn.

But it wasn't him that made your breath catch.

It was the figure beside him.

Carl Grimes.

He looked different. Taller, somehow. His hair was longer, falling past his shoulders, and the bandage over his right eye was still there, but it hung looser than before. His blue eye swept over Alexandria with a coldness that made the summer heat feel like winter.

Then his gaze found yours.

And he didn't look away.