"Am I bothering you?"
"No, it's all good, you're not bothering me."
When Jack heard a familiar voice calling his name, he turned around and immediately recognized who it was. It was Negan. Negan was one of the survivors of the train. They hadn't had any proper conversations yet, which left Jack a bit confused—why was he suddenly getting so much attention from him?
"I feel a little awkward saying this, but... your move on the train impressed me," Negan said, getting straight to the point. "While everyone else, me included, was totally in shock, you were the only one who saved the old lady."
Jack took a moment to check Negan out—dark green hair, a sharp dark suit, a white shirt, and a narrow black tie. "Interesting style," Jack thought while processing Negan's words.
Jack nervously scratched the back of his neck, a habit that made his discomfort obvious. At the same time, he was wondering, "Is he being serious, or does he want something from me?"
"Uh, thanks," Jack said after a pause, forcing a smile. "But... do you want something from me?" he asked, cutting to the chase.
Negan grinned and pointed to an empty spot nearby. "I wanted to show you this spot. We'd be neighbors, by the way."
"Neighbors?" Jack repeated, a bit skeptical, while Negan laughed and made eye contact.
Internally, Jack started to wonder: "Is he just trying to be friends... or is he gay?"
"Well, thanks anyway," Jack finally said, his tone a little suspicious.
After their strange conversation, Jack started setting up his tent—without much success. The tarp kept slipping, and the poles wouldn't stay in place. Negan, who had already finished setting up his tent, leaned casually against a rock wall and watched Jack with an amused smile.
"So, you never went camping with your dad?" Negan asked, chuckling.
The question hit Jack like a punch. For a moment, he froze, and a mix of anger and sadness flared up inside him.
"And what's it to you?" he shot back, his voice suddenly sounding threatening.
Negan swallowed and paused. The easygoing vibe between them shifted in seconds. "Hey, sorry, I didn't mean anything by it," he quickly apologized, raising his hands in a calming gesture.
Jack took a deep breath and shook his head. "It's fine. You just hit a sore spot. Forget it."
Negan nodded slowly, deciding not to press further. He was curious, but he respected Jack's boundaries and let it go.
Before night completely fell, Jack finally managed to finish setting up his tent. Sweating, he crawled inside, zipped it up, and collapsed onto the cold floor.
"It's so cramped in here," he muttered to himself.
He grabbed his makeshift pillow—made of wolf leather and crow feathers—and placed it under his head. He pulled the leather blanket tightly around him to escape the cold.
But as soon as Jack closed his eyes, the memories came rushing back. The bloody bodies of the people who had died on the train flashed before his mind's eye. Voices echoed in his head:
"Why didn't you protect me?"
"Why didn't you save me?"
"My son, wh-"
Jack snapped his eyes open when the image of his sick mother appeared in his thoughts. Trembling, he sat up in the corner of the tent, curled his legs up to his chest, and held them tightly.
...
The next morning, Jack opened his eyes—and saw a face right in front of him. A face with a cheeky smile and barely any facial hair. Green eyes stared back at him.
"Morning!" Negan called cheerfully.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!" Jack screamed, startled, and quickly backed away.
Negan laughed. "Sorry, man! Spencer told me to wake you up. But seriously, you sleep like an angel!"
Jack stared at him, remembering the thought he'd had the night before. "Wait, are you…?" Jack stopped himself, bit his lip, and changed the sentence. "I'll be out in a sec. But please, get out of my tent."
"Got it, boss," Negan said with a grin, crawling out of the tent, while Jack shook his head in annoyance.
"Don't call me boss," Jack muttered, feeling irritated.
"You're a healer, right?" Negan asked, now curious.
"Yeah, why? I thought you could see everything from your seat on the train," Jack replied in a neutral tone.
"Still holding that against me? I was in shock and would've never survived that door crash," Negan admitted with an embarrassed look. "Also, I noticed this dark red aura around that crazy woman who was hurting people."
"My ability can heal others... and hurt them," Jack said with a grin.
"Whoa, man. Are you one of the powerful creatures?" Negan asked, clearly not serious.
"And what about you?" Jack asked, a bit annoyed, before yawning.
"Me? I can temporarily turn into a zombie."
Jack watched him, impressed by what he said. While Jack was just a regular healer, his counterpart was a walking-dead guy.
Jack changed his mind about Negan: "Maybe he's not gay. Maybe he's into necrophilia."
...
*Author's Note:
Hey everyone, I just want to say thank you so much for your support and interest in Heart of Labyrinth! It means a lot to me that you're all part of this journey.
If you're enjoying the story, I'd appreciate it if you could add it to your collection and leave an honest review. Your feedback is super valuable and helps improve the novel!
If you want to learn more about the story or just chat with me, feel free to join my Discord server. The link is in my Webnovel profile.
Thanks again for everything and happy reading!*
...
As the two young men arrived at the main tent, their eyes locked on the mayor. Spencer turned to them, stroking his thin, three-day-old beard with a smile.
"Good morning," he greeted them with his deep voice.
"Morning, boss." "Good morning, chief!" they replied.
"Haha, please call me Spencer, not a boss or chief," Spencer said with good posture.
"I've sent you here to give you a mission."