Chapter 5
Baa, Baa Black Sheep

Three years later

The years changed and the town changed with it. The walls expanded four times, creating inner and outer levels as the community grew. People came, people left. Some died but most were still alive despite all things considering. We continued to pay off Negan's men. Everything in the surrounding areas had been picked dry though, so we settled our semimonthly tributes by farming and brewing alcoholic beverages like moonshine, beer, and whiskey.

I had a few tricks on how to find things, though; tricks that Vanessa taught me.

We had horses now, three cows, and four goats. A few times we had tried to raise pigs but for some reason it never worked out. Either Negan would take them all or we had to sacrifice them as bait to keep the walkers away.

It was hard finding opportunities to sneak out of town, but somehow I always managed. School interfered with it much of the time but spring had just started and soon summer would be upon us, and summer vacation with that, allowing me more opportunities to sneak out behind everyone's backs. For the most part though, my ventures into the woods took place late at night or early in the morning.

Today especially was guaranteed to be very exciting. I might have burst with happiness if I weren't already mentally dead.

After only an hour of sleep, Dad came into my room and woke me, announcing it was going to be another busy day.

I yawned feeling like a walker as I dragged my butt out of bed. It had been a busy enough night for me. Normally I didn't work while it was dark, but there were few opportunities I found to sneak off during the day, so night and early, early morning had to do it for me. I moved slowly through my morning routine: go to the bathroom, brush hair and teeth, splash some water on my face, get dressed, and meet everyone at the breakfast table.

Dad spooned me up some oatmeal and I shoveled it in my mouth before thinking to add honey to the bland flavor.

"Our elf made another delivery this morning." Michonne announced bursting in the kitchen. Her smile filled the room and I knew why. "Now we got a flock of sheep and a lot of wool to shear off them."

"Are you kidding? How do you know it was the elf?" My brother asked, surprised and then skeptical.

"I'm pretty sure," Michonne insisted. She glanced over towards me as I ate my oatmeal and honey and I did my best to look surprised by her news, rousing myself to resemble something that looked sleepily excited. I wasn't totally sure about her expression, whether she knew the truth or not, but she distracted my father and brother as she continued. "Not sure how long they were out there in the wild, but judging by the length of their coats, it's been a long time. They're long, thick and caked with dirt and who knows what else so we're cancelling school today. Everybody helps out so no disappearing for hours." She looked my way again and I nodded.

People knew I often disappeared for hours at a time on a regular day once all my chores and studies were finished, but they didn't know where. They just assumed I had a hiding place I visited during my free time. Sometimes I felt like people wanted to complain about it, but I think they wanted me to take this time to play and enjoy life as much as I could. It helped that I was still a kid with fifteen other peers they tended to concentrate more on so keeping an eye on everyone tended to get a little complicated.

I looked towards Michonne forcing myself alert once more as I finished with my breakfast. "Okay. What can I do?" I was always eager to help, even if I was half dead.

Once everyone was done with their food we followed Michonne towards the middle of town where the community had set up a pen, of a sort, out of unused bed frames and old car doors, and were discussing their plans for how they would proceed. Nobody was much into shepherding back when the world was still in order and the amount of crud the animals had accumulated in the wild was staggering.

It was a challenge getting them here, that's for sure. It was miraculous how I was able to even accomplish it. It was miraculous that I stumbled on them in the first place. It was miraculous they managed to survive so long.

Miraculous.

"Great you guys are here." Kyle said, watching as we all approached. He turned towards the heard of twenty-five large grey rainclouds baying in the center of the pen. "We were just talking about how they managed to survive so long. Spencer believed that the thickness of their coats were what saved them. Walkers can't exactly chew through all that wool."

I can safely say through firsthand experience that that is exactly how they survived for so long.

The adults discussed a plan of attack while other members of the community gathered supplies like hedge sheers, tarps, mesh bags, dish soap, rubber gloves, and a large tin bathtub for boiling the wool clean. Ryan had a book on sheering he had found in one of the houses and directed people on how we would proceed.

The work started and didn't stop till sundown. It was gross work. The fleeces were caked with dirt, bugs, stickers, manure and who knew what else. The sheep didn't help all that much, either. They were skittish and bucked too damn much. Volunteers took turns sheering while others offered to hold the sheep down to keep the ball rolling. Once free of the suffocating hides, they were finally able to move about on their own. They looked relieved, in my opinion.

You'd think animals had never been so happy to be free of their own coats.

Although the work was grueling, it was nothing compared to what it was like to get them here.

It had been painstakingly difficult to round them all up and move them back home. It had started out as a herd of thirty or so, but walkers and rabid dogs had boiled that number down to a mere twenty-five once I finally got them all to the wall. Lucky the guard on duty had heard the baying before I needed to get too close and blow my cover.

My weekly trips into the forest alone were still a secret I wasn't fully prepared to go public with just yet. Only Enid knew the truth but just because we had both caught each other wondering out alone one day. Out of mutual respect, we agreed not to tell on each other.

She was in awe by whatever power I held to keep them at bay. At first she wanted to tell the others, but I managed to convince her not to. Negan still had us under his thumb and I didn't know what he would do if he found out about it. It persuaded her immediately. The last thing she wanted to do was to sell me out to that monster.

Apart from her, I believed Michonne probably suspected something at the time but had never said anything about it. Maybe she wanted to, but the level of success I achieved in foraging might've helped her turn a blind eye to it.

Every time I went in, I always made an effort to return with something whether it were acorns, herbs, fish, honey, meat, or manmade supplies; anything and everything useful that I could get my hands on.

So far, the sheep were my greatest accomplishment. Well… greatest accomplishment alone that is. A few years back I had a helper… or maybe I was the real helper. It made me sad thinking about my friend and how we had parted, but I had to push it aside before I could let it consume me. There were bigger matters to attend to after all.

It was hard to remember a time when my family looked so pleased with themselves. We'd be able to make clothes and blankets and mattresses with these animals. And if we ever needed it, they would feed us.

Countless times before I had found food and tools, medicine, maps, and homemade supplies. I usually placed them on the doorsteps of people who needed them most and kept in mind not to be spotted when doing it. I don't' think my father would have been pleased to find out that his nine year old daughter was running around walker infested woods alone with no escort. But I'd been doing it for almost three years by now and not a single walker so far had so much as tried to come near me. Not one.

But it wasn't just walkers that were dangerous. Far from it. Walkers were a threat of the past. These days we had warlords breathing down our neck.

Or one in particular.

"You know the saddest thing about this?" Carl said as he took his turn to help sheer. I crouched by him, using my measly weight to pin the sheep as the scissors cut through the wool. "It almost doesn't even matter. Most of these will go to that bastard the moment he sees them."

I looked away.

Sometimes he could really make me mad. I had sweat and bled and risked my life to get these sheep here and even if he didn't know it had been me, the least he could do was be a little grateful for the few we may actually manage to keep.

All I tried to do was make sure everyone was okay and alive for the next day, and the day after that. He may have helped but not after complaining first. There wasn't a whole lot to be happy about when viewing our situation but it couldn't have killed him to try for once!

Though I suppose it wasn't his fault. He lost an eye and he had been there when they managed to break our father, now all anyone could really do was bare it all grudgingly.

My thoughts were lost as a force collided with my rear and knocked me off my feet. I landed hard in the dirt as I recognized the culprit that threw me to the ground.

It was the ram.

He had been a devil the entire journey and was a major factor in the herd's survival in the first place. He hated me.

Most of the threats we met along the way were pushed through thanks to him, but he hindered much of our progress by knocking into me every chance I carelessly turned my back to him. On the way back I had gotten to calling him Ram Dover and lost track of how many times he had plowed into me. I very nearly gave the flock up with the number of times he got the drop on me but I had to remind myself repeatedly it would be worth it in the end. Even so, my butt was probably decorated with purple patches by now, courtesy of his doing.

"Ugh! You!" I said getting up once more and dusting myself off as I faced the sheep jerk. "What's your problem, you goat?!"

"Don't get mad, honey." My father consoled, coming behind the animal and leading him back with the others. He still had yet to be sheered and probably broke out of the enclosure just to run me over. "He's just an animal protecting his flock. It was only this one time, so we'll just have to be a little more careful from now on to not turn our back on him."

I grit my teeth. This one time? He had no idea!

I glared after the animal, making the "I've got my eyes on you" gesture once he faced me again behind the fence.

He bayed a threat I didn't understand and I glared harder at him before turning back to complete our work.

"Those sheep are going to be a godsend to us." Michonne announced. "Wool stuffing, wool socks, wool blankets and sweaters. All we have to do now is learn how to knit."

"Just as long as Negan gets his pick out of everything." Carl said bitterly.

I swallowed my mouthful of potato casserole and there was silence around the table.

"Maybe we could convince him that they're too much trouble for him." I suggested hopefully. "They eat a lot and attract too many walkers. And the sheering wasn't exactly easy and the wool gets gross. Their medicine is hard to come by, they're hard to protect, and the ram is a jerk."

My father looked at me and smiled sadly, "You have a lot of good points."

"Yeah, good points," Carl muttered playing with his food angrily. "Unless he decides he wants lamb chops for dinner and makes us kill them all to ease the trouble."

"We could say we didn't know how long they were out there and they may have diseases." I offered.

"None of us are dead yet so I'm not sure how well he'll buy that."

Did he really have to be like this? "I'm just offering suggestions, Carl!" I snapped at last. "You don't have to rain on everyone's parade all the time!"

I was frustrated with his attitude. I had gotten my butt kicked to get those sheep home—multiple times! And I'd do whatever I had to to make sure we'd manage to keep most of them.

Dad put our quarrel to rest. "Okay that's enough out of both of you. When he comes I'll see what I can do."

I turned back to my plate, but Carl stood up sharply, finished with his food as he left the table. I was still angry with him even after dinner was cleaned up and wouldn't wish him goodnight as I walked up to bed.

Sometime in the night though I was roused and walked downstairs to find Dad up lounging on the couch tiredly. I knew the expression on his face and recognized a nightmare.

The dream spell I had cast must've been wearing off again. They normally did rather quickly where he was concerned. He had so many demons riding on his back after all.

"Dad?"

He jumped and saw me in the doorway.

"Judith, what are you doing up?"

"Nothing. I just heard a noise and was seeing what it was."

"Sorry." He grumbled. "Didn't mean to wake you up. I just couldn't sleep."

"Let me get you something, okay," I decided. Before he could refuse I was already in the kitchen boiling some water for a calming tea.

I added honey and brought it back in his favorite mug.

"Thank you, sweetheart." And he drank it to humor me. "That really hits the spot actually."

I took a seat beside him and curled close. He swung his arm around me and let my head rest against him.

"When does Negan come?"

"In a week."

"So… probably tomorrow then, 'cause we all know he has no concept of time."

He chuckled once but didn't laugh.

"I really want to keep those sheep." I told him.

"Me, too. But don't be naming them just yet till we know the verdict."

"It might be a little late for that. You know that ram jerk that kicked my butt?"

"I might recall."

"I'm calling him Ram Dover."

He really did laugh this time. "That's pretty clever."

We stayed quiet with his occasional sip of tea. Soon enough we both dozed off and woke only when Michonne came down to start breakfast the next morning and we sat in wait for when Negan or his men would show up to claim their goods.

Before leaving for my own chores I snuck upstairs to perform a luck spell.

I soon found that not all spells worked the same as others. Each spell worked differently and it was based mostly on the situation you were currently in. There were thousands and finding the right spell was the real trouble.

Finally I settled on one. I got out my secret store of ingredients and selected a brown candle, my iron horseshoe and a grey feather. I placed the horseshoe carefully on the wood of my bedroom floor with it facing towards me and standing the candle up inside it. I lit the wick and held the grey feather out, reciting the rhyme as it burned in the flame.

"Luck and prosperity come to our town Let the good rise up and the bad stay down

Allow the new sheep to remain And get the foul Saviors to abstain

Three times three So mote it be"

I recited it three times, enough to finish watching the feather burn out. The ash fell into the arch of the horseshoe and rather than blowing out the candle and risk blowing away the luck inside the horseshoe, I licked my fingers and smothered the flame with a tight pinch.

Breathing deep I looked at the display before turning towards my window. Staring out hopefully at the blue sky above, my heart ached desperately. I really hoped I did it right. Spells were so temperamental. If you didn't do them precisely right then you risked losing the magic entirely and they wouldn't work.

I was getting better at it, but Vanessa still said I had a long way to go before my success-rate was stronger.

Well the spell was done and I began packing everything back into my little wooden crate. The rest was up to fate and the talents of the town.

I was ecstatic.

The town had all banded together and through our skills of deception we'd managed to convince Negan's men that the sheep were more trouble than they were worth. It had all become a rather theatrical event and had involved quite a bit of embarrassment on everyone's part. I once more had to be subjected to Ram Dover's horns as he plowed over me and had to make sure the men were there to see it. They had laughed and it sucked, but it had at least discouraged their eagerness to take the sheep off our hands.

Afterwards my dad was able to convince them not to load the flock in the trucks they had brought with them. Instead they agreed to let us raise the animals ourselves, but we of course had to agree to give over half of whatever fleece or goods we managed to grow from them in the future.

All the work and none of the reward… well almost none. We all knew it was the best deal we could get and thankfully the amount of fleece we had already was promised to last quite a long time. They still wanted the bit they were due but they hadn't seen the animals before they were sheered and being able to successfully cheat them out of what they assumed was "half" felt really good.

I skipped down the street with Enid towards their pen area once the men were gone, delightfully singing with our luck.

"We get to keep the sheep 'Cause we discouraged the creep And you snore when you sleep!"

Enid laughed. She felt just as good about it and went along with my teasing. "I don't snore when I sleep, you snore when you sleep!

"You snore!"

"Your father snores!"

"Yes he does!"

We made it to the pen and found Father Gabriel standing straight and tall, staring at the flock with interest.

"I never assumed I would be looking after a literal flock before." He announced as we approached. "But it seems everyone believes this would be the perfect job for me."

"You're going to be their shepherd?"

He turned, a smile on his features as he looked at us proudly. "Seems rather appropriate, wouldn't you agree?"

I grinned. "Yeah. I think that would be great."

"We should thank the father for this blessing he's delivered to us. As well as our Elf who led them to our town."

Enid and I both smiled by that and refused to look at each other for fear we may end up giving something away.

"I'll bet the Elf is just glad they can help at all." I said.

"If there is an elf…" Enid announced sarcastically.

The Elf had become something of my alternate persona around Alexandria. It was what most of the people had begun calling the gifts left randomly on our doorsteps. The medicine, the food, the small bits of hope. Someone had remembered the tale of the Elves and the Shoemaker and had chosen to dub the mysterious giver as such.

It hadn't always been that way, though.

I at first left the gifts outside of the gate, hoping that the guard would spot them and choose to bring them in. But they had refused to so much as touch them, assuming it was a trick set by one of our thousands of enemies. Perhaps the food was drugged or poisoned or carried diseases. We had no medicine now thanks to the Saviors and should the offerings turn deadly… well, it was just best to be safe than sorry.

Paranoia was my greatest enemy those first few weeks.

Finally I realized the only way this stuff would be put to good use was if I brought it in myself.

I selected a few houses in need and distributed them as I saw fit.

The gifts hadn't been well received, as it turned out. It created something of a panic at first. People believed there could have been a traitor that had managed to infiltrate the walls and was trying to kill us all. That was at least until I had chosen to test it all myself just to put everyone's worries to rest.

It was easy for me to get away with it. One of the good things about being little is that no one expected me to know better, so I could get away with a touch more things than other people.

I had pretended to get up early that day (I was already up) and made breakfast using ingredients that had been "left on the doorstep". Honey, raspberry tea, and some SPAM with wild mushrooms and eggs. It was a good breakfast; one that Vanessa had shown me how to cook while I was at her cottage. The smell wafted upstairs and woke everyone up. My dad came down first, hungry and curious who was cooking. He saw me eating at the counter, but when he recognized the food, he instantly overacted.

We went through the routine. He asked where I got the food and I told him someone left it on the doorstep, he worked himself into a panic, Michonne and Carl had to come down and once everyone eventually saw that I was not in fact dead they finally calmed down.

There were various opinions about the "elf". Most people were skeptical but anyone brave enough to test the merchandise eventually caved due to hunger or curiosity.

No one ever died. And once they had worked past their suspicions about the food they began to test the medicinal products.

Vanessa taught me all about salves, creams, essential oils, soaps and lotions. All of which she instructed me to manufacture right in her little cottage. She had everything I needed in there and it soon became a godsend during times of need. Even long before she had died she had been stored up on a surplus of various creams and salves, not just that but she had an enormous storage cellar filled with enough supplies and food to feed one or two people for several years. Vanessa had no more need for it and allowed me to distribute it to my people as I required.

I learned all about gardening, hunting, gathering, fishing, plant identification and so on. I felt like I was a pupil of a magical school or the assistant to a magician sometimes. It was a delicious secret I could hold close to me during the darker times.

No one knew who the Elf might've been but everyone concluded that it had to be someone in town. The only questions was, who? And why were they staying quiet?

Enid was the only one who caught on… well the only one in town to at least, thinking back to my secret friend.

Enid was different than the others. She didn't overlook me like everyone else did because I was too little or young. I think deep down we were a bit the same, that's why she was able to find me out.

It was maybe a few months after my friend had left me for good. I no longer scaled the wall to escape the town but opted to go down the unused sewage tunnel leading out. I had taken the initiative and planted thick juniper bushes all around the gate and atop the hill so it was harder for outsiders to find. With those it was a bit more secure and no one kept much of an eye on it. Though I was a little worried about how frequently I traveled through it. Someday someone outside would catching me coming out of it and use it for their advantage to crush us. For the moment though, it was the only route available to me.

She had followed me all the way down and out. I hadn't even noticed she was tailing me, till I heard her scream.

It had been sheer instinct that had propelled me forward towards her aid rather than panic to force me back. One of my people was in danger and I had to help.

I came around a bend and saw Enid pinned by a walker, its teeth gnashing hungrily at her neck as she struggled to throw it off her. Several more were on their way to toppling on her as well.

Without thought I rushed to her aid and began to yell at the top of my lungs.

"Get off her! Go away! Shoo! GET!"

The ones approaching seemed to think better of it and chose another direction and the one on top of her slowed its pursuit to get at her neck the closer I came. When Enid saw her chance she buried a knife into the rotting skull and it rolled away from her person letting her leap to her feet.

She switched between staring at me and back at the stray walkers hovering nearby, too stunned to say anything for a long, long time.

I grabbed her hand and led her away from them but she couldn't dispel her shock.

"W-what did you do?" She exclaimed in disbelief.

"Nothing!" I said hastily. "I just scared them off you, that's all."

"Walkers don't get scared, Judith!" She shouted. "What did you do? Why didn't they come near us?"

"It—I don't know."

"Don't lie! What do you have on you? Some kind of repellent or something?"

"No."

She grabbed me just then, stopping us both, and she looked me in the eye, dead serious. "I'm not playing games, Judith! This is serious. You've been sneaking into the woods every chance you get and the only reason you haven't died yet is because somehow you've got a secret that keeps them from coming near you! You tell me what it is, Judith Grimes! If it's something that can help our people you have to tell us! You have to tell us right—"

"I DON'T KNOW WHY THEY DON'T COME NEAR ME!" I screamed. Enid stopped her rant and stared silently down at me. I couldn't meet her gaze as I looked at the ground wearily. I was still getting over the wound of losing my friend and began to cry with the thought of it all. "I don't know why, but they won't. I've been trying to figure it out but I can't. I don't know why I'm this way."

Enid wanted to tell the others, but I managed to convince her not to. For my sake she agreed. In return I showed her the island. She, along with everyone else knew I already saw things, like our dead loved ones at times, but this was entirely new to her.

There were times when I really wanted to share it with everyone, not just Enid; perhaps tell my dad about it and let him use it when he needed to get away for a while. But he was being watched too carefully by our enemy. My secret would be blown before I could finish saying, "Don't tell anyone." And the Saviors would come to ruin it.

Despite myself I was happy that I had someone to share this burden with. It had been so long since there was anyone living that I could trust. Not since John…

The entrance to the island was guarded by an enormous shrine for an ancient pagan god. He was bearded and had tall antlers sprouting from his head like naked branches. His chest was bare with a flowing shawl winding around his lower half and draping around his left outstretched arm. Vanessa called him Cernunnos; I called him Hades, mostly for the next part.

Behind his statue or shrine were dozens of other statues made to look like people. In the mist they looked creepy and foreboding, warding away any rational thinking person from entering their crowd. It looked like a herd of stagnant walkers and even if someone spotted the stone they were made from, it probably wouldn't be enough to encourage them to enter. Enid sure didn't want to enter the first time she saw them.

Walkers were tricky hiders, and tended to pop up at the most unexpected times. You didn't want to be caught by one in this crowd.

Beyond the statues were the remnants of a stone bridge that once led over to an island in what used to be part of the Potomac River. No one knew it was there. Mist tended to rise from it, like a haunted dead cloud, creating even more reason for strangers to steer clear of it.

In the river were more statues of dead things rising out of it. I called this part of the river the Styx, so the statue of Hades would be easier to understand now.

I no longer used the little boat that had guided me over long ago. Instead I took hold of a staff concealed to look like a simple bent flagpole, minus the flag, thrown down on the ground and appearing as nothing more important than regular garbage. I inserted it into a mechanism like fitting a key into a lock and pulled it back, activating the wheals as a drawbridge suddenly emerged straight up from the murky waters, connecting the banks and making it easier and faster to cross these days.

The ruins I had found the first day were all that was left of a long forgotten pagan church and the warmth that rose from it, creating the eerie mist all around, was due thanks to the hot springs that bubbled right out of it.

It was a godsend the whole place. Perfect almost. Walkers couldn't come across thanks to the rapids of the river and everyone was put off immediately by the collective shrine and statues.

Enid fell in love with the island the very first time and decided to help me with my foraging for our family. The island was probably best left as a secret anyways. If too many people knew about it, there was a higher chance that the Saviors would eventually find out about it, too. It was a nice secret weapon, should the need ever arise to use it for a safe haven or a stowaway for contraband items that was sure to be confiscated by our enemies.

It was a good place.

Vanessa had mixed feeling about Enid but no longer had any power over who was let onto the land so she couldn't really tell me no. Besides she was hardly any different from John, her old companion who used to visit her long ago. I had met him once before and he had stayed for a time, teaching me things beside Vanessa but he left and these days it hurt too much to think about him so I just tried to… not.

In the meantime I showed Enid all my favorite areas and she tried not to act too creeped out when I told her I was being tutored by a dead witch that was haunting the property. She seemed to take it all in rather well, but she was still concerned all the same.

I continued my lessons with Vanessa alone. Though understanding, Enid always made it a point to disappear whenever this happened. I think she found it a bit off-putting when she caught me speaking to an entity she could neither see nor hear. I wasn't insulted by it though; a lot of people found it disconcerting, especially if they found out I'd just been speaking with someone they used to know in life.

As patient as Enid was, she never passed up an opportunity to tell me exactly how she felt about my secrets.

"This can't last forever, Judith." She told me as we tended the vast herb garden. "We have to tell someone about you."

"Why?"

"Because it could help us. It could help so many people. If we could figure out why you're this way then maybe…"

"No, it'll just make everything worse." I insisted. "The Saviors will find out, everyone will get in trouble, I'll be taken away, Dad'll try to stop them, more people will die…" I buried my face in my hands as if to shield myself from those thoughts. "I can't do it. I'm already so scared of this. Yes there are good things about it, but there are so many other problems it brings up. And don't tell me everyone will protect me because they can't!"

Enid went quiet after that. There was nothing she could come up with to dispel the fears I had been realizing ever since I made this discovery about myself. So she stayed quiet and helped with whatever work I did to contribute to our people, whether it was gathering, hunting, fishing, or distributing the gifts we found in the forest among Alexandria as needed.

She was a good help and I was grateful for her friendship, but she really couldn't replace my first friend and partner.

Don't think about him, I told myself constantly, whenever my thoughts wondered to my strong and mysterious friend. He chose to leave. Don't think about it or it'll hurt too much to bear.

Once or twice she suggested telling Carl, at the least. I had considered this as well, many times, but I always decided against it somehow. I don't know why, not really, but I told myself that he would probably tell Dad, and as much as I loved Dad, he would want to do everything to protect me rather than allowing me the freedom I needed to protect our people.

I needed to protect our people. It was the only thing that gave me purpose.

I needed to protect our people.