Chapter 11
Hrunting is Shattered

Vanessa continued to teach me. Her thoughts on my father's visit to the island were kept to herself, and whether she approved or not was no longer an option for her. But I was still interested in her thoughts, no matter what she told me.

"I believe your father will do what he thinks is right to protect your people. If he feels the island might help them he'll do what he has to. But he knows that's not his right. He'll ask you first."

"You think?"

"I do actually."

I smiled in relief and turned back to the lesson about knots.

It wasn't just time spent on the island, though. A lot of my time was used up in the forest gathering and hunting anything and everything I thought might be good.

Three times Negan's men came and went since I had brought my father to the garden. He never told them, in fact he acted a lot of the time like he had no idea there even was a garden. In some ways it felt like my secret was still my secret. My dad knew but he no longer tried to interfere with it. I guess he figured that if I had gone three whole years of wondering the woods without supervision then I could maybe continue to do it safely.

On their fourth visit I went out and took Sheriff with me. It was the first time he'd been outside of the walls since I brought him to Alexandria. He was such an energetic little puppy and I felt it was as good a time as any to start training him to be a hunter and if not that then maybe I could use him to find truffles. As long as he stayed near me, the walkers wouldn't bother us. I was much too scary to them to risk a puppy snack.

We went fishing and caught a massive trout—well more like I wrestled it into submission. I was checking the fishing nets and wonder of all there it was, tangled up and looking good enough to eat. But then the net tore and the fish worked free. Before I could think I was leaping into the water after it. My hand caught on its tail and pulled. It was slimy and gross and slippery but I wouldn't release. The thing was almost as strong as I was and half my own size. It splashed furiously and at one point it slapped me with its own fin. I managed to drag it to shore and got a knife in its head, ceasing it's thrashing for good.

Sheriff had barked energetically at the sight of the tousle, but had otherwise been no help with it at all. It was fine, though. He would learn.

The trout was a beauty; green as glass, with an orange underbelly and dark black spots like river pebbles. It was the kind of thing men bragged about in old fishing stories. I folded it up in old magazine papers and set it inside my new basket pack. It was pretty heavy but I didn't mind.

Earlier we had checked the snares, caught two wild quails and a pheasant, picked blackberries, greens, and gathered truffles we could roast or stew. Even soaked to the bone, I felt pretty good with myself and all but skipped as we went back with Sheriff padding beside me.

I would have even sung if I knew any good songs, but the only one I knew right then by heart was Dear God and I didn't feel like bringing myself down at the moment.

So I decided to make up a song on the spot.

"The bodies rot
The bodies walk
and wander in the woods

No matter where those bodies go
They'll wander on for good

Don't shoot the gun
It's just no fun
When bodies hear that call

You better run
Or else you're done
They'll munch you one and all

Hit their head
then go to bed
Don't worry once they're still

But if bodies walk
Don't try to talk
Just spear their skulls with drills

Stay up too late
But close that gate
Or the bodies wander in

When bodies start that wanderin'
They eat you for their din!"

I liked my made up song and sang the tune over again several times. The lyrics were grim, but I sang it like I was singing a nursery rhyme; after all, poetry like that had originally been based off of hard truths, or so I heard from other adults. Mother Goose was a breeder for subliminal messages. And who knew? In the future it could have been used as a teaching mechanism for small children… assuming there would be children in the future. Often it felt like I was the only child in the world at times.

The thought earned a hard shake from my head. I didn't want to think like that right now. It was such a pretty day and I didn't want to waste it by being sad.

But no matter how hard I tried, that figurative rain cloud hovered over me nonstop. I was constantly reminded of Negan's current visit and knew I couldn't go back home till he was gone, so I lingered a bit, deciding to visit my favorite meadow. I picked wildflowers and made two crowns, one for me and one for Sheriff. I played with him a bit, fawning over him obsessively like a new mother with her baby.

When I put the ring of flowers on him something in me imploded by the adorably precious sight of him, and I gushed. "Who is the cutest little Sheriff in the whole world?" I said in a high-pitched baby voice as I snuggled him. "That right, you are!" He panted happily and licked at one of the flowers.

After a while our attentions turned to watch a tortoise amble through the grass.

Sheriff stared at the odd creature, following its slow path and walking beside it in deep curiosity. I could practically hear his puppy thoughts as he studied this alien. "What are you? Why are you so slow? How come you have no fur? Why do you have a helmet on your back? What's your name? Do you want to play? Play with me! You'll love playing with me! I'm good at playing!"

My first thought at the sight of it was turtle soup, but for some reason I stayed my hand. It just didn't feel sporting somehow. It was so slow, and I already had a pheasant, two quails and a large trout; there was no call to kill if it I didn't have to.

Besides, I had nothing to do for a while, might as well let them entertain me. I rolled on my stomach as I watched it but then something moved sharply and the moan of a walker cut through all sound—well half a walker I supposed. Its legs and bottom half was entirely gone as it tried to crawl forward. Sheriff yelped in surprise and sprinted back to me, burying his snout in my stomach as he sought protection from his mama. When its dead eyes scanned towards me though, it moaned once then dragged its broken corpse in another direction.

The puppy whimpered and I hugged him close, showing him there was nothing to be afraid of. Then I spoke to him. "It's okay, everything is fine. It won't come near us now. As long as you stay near me, nothing bad will get you." And with those words we watched it disappear into the grass. Then I looked around as if searching for listeners in the woods before I turned back to the little one in my arms.

"If I share a secret with you do you promise not to tell, Sheriff? I mean I know you're straight as a line being a servant of the law and all, but maybe you can bend the rules this one time." I winked to him and he huffed adorably. "There's a reason they don't come near me. Would you like to know why?" My voice lowered to a cryptic hush. "It's because I'm a scary witch. That's right. Your mama is a witch! I can do magic and cast spells and find things that no one else can find. My teacher is an even scarier witch than I am, but I'm not sure if you'll see her, because only her spirit remains now."

I lied back in the grass, stroking the soft spot of my dog's ear as he settled on top of my stomach.

"I see other people, too, but not like the witch. She has magical powers that let her come back and teach me things whenever I visit her house. But sometimes I see our friends, the ones who have passed away. Only they don't usually stay for very long. They come and go as they wish. I hear it's bad for them to stay for so long, but their business isn't over. If they've got responsibilities that aren't over before they die, they stay to carry them out or get someone to do it for them."

"All of them are different. There's this one." And I pulled my chain from my neck to show him the charms, pointing at the music note. "She's like an angel. At night I hear her singing and it's prettier than all the birds out here. Then there's this one." I pointed to the anchor. "This one is like a navigator and tells the best stories and didn't let any of the bad change him before he left." Then I pointed to the silver wings. "And this one… This is my mom. When I was really little she came to me almost every night, but her visits have grown few and far apart. Sometimes it feels like… I can't see them as well as I used to."

A pang of sorrow hit me just then as I looked at the little thing in my lap and I embraced him. "I'm sorry for your family." I said, blinking back tears. "I'm sorry I didn't get there in time before they were all…" I sniffed unable to say the last part. "They didn't like me and would've eaten me probably if I wasn't so fast, but they would've loved you and your siblings just as much as I do. Maybe your brother wouldn't have died then. Maybe they would've raised you better than me. But I'm gunna tell you about them. I'm gunna make sure you know your blood."

My grip on him tightened slightly as my voice growled angrily at the thought of lineage. "There are whispers I hear sometimes that say I'm… I'm not my dad's. They say I'm someone else's. Someone called Shane comes at times and says those things. But they're lies!" I hissed at the puppy. "Even Dad thinks it sometimes, but it's not true! I can feel it down to my marrow that it's not true. He is my father, inside and out. I know he is, because I'm stronger than most people, I'm stubborn and resourceful and smart. And I'm only able to be those things because he's part of me!"

I growled at the images of a shadow in my room whispering those things that scared me less than made me blind with fury. "I'll prove my blood!" I hissed determinedly. "If I have to wade through all the crap Dad's been through himself to prove it without a doubt, I'll do it! But no one tells me I'm not Rick's! No one! It's like… like if someone said one of your parents was a poodle instead of a wolf. You'd never want to be a poodle. Never! That wolf is in you every bit! Not some dumb poodle!"

I couldn't expect the puppy to understand, but he seemed to sense the turmoil raging in his mama enough to realize I needed comforting. He curled up in my lap and licked at my arm till I calmed down enough to ease my hold on him.

The wind billowed and we were both quiet after that. My gaze swept up to watch the clouds, finding pictures as we sat there.

After a decent amount of time I finally decided it was time to go but Sheriff seemed a little less eager to leave while I swung my pack on my shoulders. It was hard to tear him away from the lovely meadow but I merely picked him up and carried him a decent distance away before setting him down again and ordering him to follow. He was damn disobedient but another fright from a walker had him running back to me for safety.

I still wore the crown of flowers and carried a bouquet, thinking I'd give it to Michonne when I got back. I had heard that's what people used to do back then, and when was the last time she had a present like that? I thought it might've been nice to surprise her.

I was still lost in thought though. I hadn't even realized there was so much bothering me till I unloaded some of those worries to the puppy beside me. He couldn't understand it, but it was nice to relieve some of it to a living being that wouldn't reprimand me for being stupid or pathetic or crazy.

God why weren't there more dogs instead of people in the world?

As I neared the outskirts the sudden blast of a gunshot broke through all sound in the forest and my heart leapt in my throat. None of us had guns anymore so it could only have meant the Saviors had attacked. I took only a moment to bend down and grab the puppy before I started to sprint, reaching the gate in a panic and brushing through the convoy of trucks and men, silent and quick, even with my pack and a dog.

There were several sounds of surprise at my entrance, as if a little kid silently streaking by was one of the last things they had been expecting. I paid none of them any mind though as I circled the town, trying to track where the blast had come from. The puppy in my arms was fussy and I gathered enough sense to at least drop him off in the sheep pen before continuing my frantic search. Then I heard a commotion coming from Rosita's house. I spotted my father and I couldn't stop myself.

"Dad!" I shouted rushing towards him without thinking. "I heard a gunshot! Is everyone okay?"

He looked startled to see me then suddenly worried as his eyes whipped behind him for the briefest of moments before another voice made both of us stiffen.

"Well hells bells! If it isn't my favorite little Alexandrian."

I have a confession to make; I've attempted curses before. On more than one occasion I've tried to curse Negan into unimaginable suffering. I mean of course I've tried it. What furious witch with few options wouldn't at least try? Unfortunately, none of them stuck. Not a single one so much as gave him a boil for my troubles. I was so frustrated about it that I cast a spell to see what the hell was going on.

I carefully followed the instructions from the Book of Shadows and drew out the alter as well as prepared the incense required. Inside the adapertio circle with the aroma of the sage, brahmi, and ivy smoke, the world around grew hazy and offset as I slipped into a trancelike dream.

In it I saw a bright white figure pulsing with magic so tangible I had never felt its equal to in all my life. The body seemed to hover near a shadowy outline of someone whose profile I knew all too well. Even if I couldn't see Negan's face I knew it was supposed to be him. I saw that light body next to him quietly fade away, but as it did, Negan's shadowy outline seemed to gain a strange illuminated aura, though his shadow didn't seem to brighten in any way as it surrounded him. In fact, it only darkened more and more, and just as the light from the other body was snuffed out, his outline had become entirely surrounded by the while glow.

With a start I woke up, dazed and confused about what I had seen for a moment. Then the confusion vanished as I somehow understood exactly what my vision had meant and when it hit me, I curled up where I was and beat the ground in rage.

Another witch was protecting him.

I was so furious about all of it! Who the hell was protecting him? Who would care enough about that monster to wrap such a powerful spell around him? And what was even worse was that it was white magic. White fucking magic! It was cast out of complete unadulterated love and selflessness. He didn't deserve to have such a powerful generous spell guarding him like that! He was a monster—A MONSTER!

Such a shield of that caliber could not have come from just any average green or kitchen witch. That spell had been bought with the life of someone else and she (I was pretty sure that it was a she) had done it of complete free will.

What poor innocent fool could have been duped by him so entirely to risk such a sacrificial ritual? Not only did he take all we had but he even had an impenetrable magical shield hovering around his aura? This wasn't right! It wasn't fair! How else were we supposed to beat him?

Neither magic, nor wits, nor brute strength seemed to be any match against him. Slowly, very slowly I was beginning to feel like this man may have very well been invincible.

"Cast a curse and you curse two. You curse the enemy and you curse you." That's what Vanessa had taught me after that particular incident proved fruitless. But all I ever wanted was to put a curse on him. Every time I had to look at him my mind would return to the numerous jinxes and hexes found within the island cottage.

Those were my thoughts as my mind snapped back to the present.

I shared a looked with my dad when the voice reached our ears and we both grimaced, turning at the same time to watch Negan exiting the house. His face became immediately interested the moment he caught sight of me. With his approach all I wanted to do was retreat but with one glance at my father I knew that I wouldn't do that. I'd stay to be his strength.

Dad was afraid of him, I knew he was; not of what Negan could do to him exactly, but what he could do to our people. Though he did his best to conceal it, choosing an unemotional expression as a mask, I knew better. Maybe deep down I was afraid of him, too, but it was wrong to lean against someone who was far more damaged from him than me. I could face him—I would face him with dignity and resolve. He wasn't going to intimidate me again. Not here.

Here I'd be strong for my father. I'd put aside that fear. For now I'd pretend he could do no more harm to me than a black bear, but even as I thought that I could see the illogical part of that idea. I could run from bears, or play dead, or climb trees to escape them and there was a great unlikelihood that they would try to shoot me if I ran.

At that moment I had a mental image of a hairy black bear holding a machine gun and firing wildly. I would have almost chuckled at the imagery but I caught sight of Negan's white teeth and it died before it lived.

"Lookit here!" He said stepping towards me. "Judy! I thought I'd never have the chance to see you again."

I detested the shortened version of my name and when it came from him it was worse times one hundred!

"I really thought I'd never see you again either." I countered back in a sarcastic tone.

"It just seems that every time I make a house call, you're out."

"Yeah well every time I smell something bad on the horizon I need to get some fresh air."

"Judith!" My dad smacked my head, angry for my cheek. "Mind your manners." He said sternly.

My head smarted but I held my tong, rubbing at the spot.

"Playing in the woods again, princess?" he pointed to my flower crown and my cheeks went bright red as I realized I was still wearing it.

"No!" I snapped pulling it off my head immediately and tossing it away. "I was working! Some people still do that!"

"Curious." Negan said, ignoring the jab I made. "What do you do out there on your own?"

"Just… stuff." I muttered, openly neglecting to go into detail. "And things."

"Really?" Then he smacked his head as if he'd just remembered something. "Oh right! I'm sorry about that! I might've accidentally let slip the fact that you wanted to keep those visits secret from your daddy."

"Doesn't matter either way." I shrugged, pretending to feel indifferent about the idea, but deep down I was still angry he'd been careless—the rat! "He already figured it out without your help, because he's smart!"

The way he talked was like he didn't see my father was literally standing right there.

"You know I'm very sorry your father found out about that and about our meeting out there." By that I could feel dad's hand on my shoulder tighten slightly. I knew he wanted me out of the way right now, away from the predator's gaze, but both of us knew I couldn't run right now. Negan wanted me to stay put right where I was.

"That was supposed to be our little secret."

"Well I'm an open book," I announced boldly. "No secrets here."

That peaked his interest. "Really?"

I smiled contemptuously, "Really, really."

He pointed to my pack. "Then you wouldn't mind showing off what you found out there."

My head would have bent backward in exasperation and I wanted to groan inwardly. Why oh why didn't I think to stash it somewhere outside the walls where the Saviors and Negan wouldn't see it? I managed to stash the puppy! Now he was going to take this small bit I had scrounged up for a somewhat decent meal tonight!

My hands tightened slightly around the straps and I hesitated for a long moment, taking a step back in aversion. Then my father nudged me insistently and I knew I had no choice.

A defeated sigh left my body and I swung my pack around to show him the contents.

"Road kill, weeds, fungi, and a bottom feeder." I announced, hoping beyond hope it would disinterest him.

My father was getting impatient with me. "Judith."

"Your daughter has an attitude problem." Negan said looking dangerous as he turned to my dad for the first time since I arrived. "It better be resolved the next time I visit."

He words seem to light a spark under Dad just then and he looked back at Negan in challenge. If there was one thing he wouldn't stand for is threats towards his kids.

"Careful, Rick." Negan said dangerously low. "Careful about how you look at me. It'd be traumatizing if I needed to straighten you out in front of your daughter. But maybe you've forgotten what it felt like."

My heartbeat picked up and I was suddenly afraid. At the same time Dad lowered his eyes and his expression melted back into his unemotional mask. It was painful to see him so cowed and I hated myself for rushing in so blindly to witness this.

Then suddenly Negan's hand was on top of my scalp, patting it affectionately and shaking me slightly. "Although, I suppose you should be proud of her. Already able to wander around in the woods without so much as a chaperone. She'll be a large asset to your people, I bet. I mean, it looks like she already is, if she's capable of bringing home the bacon at her age."

I hated his hand on my head. It was large and took up nearly my entire scalp. I felt dirty every time I was so much as near him and all I wanted was to hop in the shower and scrub myself raw.

"And since you're such an opened book, why don't you and I have a little chat, honey." Just then his hand moved to my shoulder and he pushed passed my dad as he steered me around town. I glanced around back towards his expression and saw a look of concern and offense cross his face at Negan's dick move. He was very torn between throwing himself between me and the warlord but doing that was just going to makes things more dangerous for us. The most he could do was stay close and follow, watching carefully for a threat and then intervene when necessary.

I felt a surge of resolve and turned forward. I could do this. I was my father's daughter; I grew up listening to stories about his travels and trials. The things he'd been through were scarier than this.

I could do this.

My expression rearranged to attempt something unemotional like what my dad adopted in Negan's presence, but I felt I may not have been succeeding with that. It was hard and I had new respect for my father for managing it so well. There was no feeling I felt more strongly now than disgust and it must've been obvious on my face. So I kept it forward, deciding not to look at Negan if I could help it. All the while I was distinctly aware of his hand on my shoulder, the weight and the strength of his grip and what that hand could do to me.

I shoved those thoughts aside, though.

Don't think about that, I told myself. You'll lose your nerve otherwise.

I still had my pack held in front of me, but it looked like Negan was busy with other thoughts so I swung it back over my shoulder, the one his hand wasn't on.

While we walked, I kept my eyes on the pavement, knowing that if I looked up I'd be enraged to find Negan's thugs looting us left and right once again. I kept it down, but the fury in me wouldn't dispel. If anything it seemed to increase. Then all of a sudden I felt a new presence just then; something familiar but cold and angry.

It was a spirit. I was sure of it, but this wasn't like how they normally felt, even if I knew this one very well.

"Glenn?" I murmured softly enough not to be heard.

My fear spiked at that. This wasn't what he was supposed to feel like. Not like this. I could feel his anger pulsing beside me like a storm cloud. I felt it long before it clicked what was going on.

Glenn was becoming vengeful and I could practically feel his words hissing over and over in my head.

It was him! It was him! He did it! Killed us both! Shattered Rick! Threatened our family! Beat our people! The ambush! It was him!

I suddenly felt something hot on my neck, in the place where one of the charms rested on my collarbone, not enough to burn—yet, but enough to notice and set me on edge.

I shivered involuntary and Negan brought me back to the present.

"Cold, sweetie?"

I nearly gagged when he called me by the endearment and had to stifle a second shiver. "No, just felt like a spider was on me for a minute."

His hand squeezed me through my cloak, as either a threat or a warning.

"How's life here for you?"

Was he making small talk?

"Well I'm still here. So life is fine. Why? You wanna live here?" As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn't.

"That's sounds tempting." He chimed sounding as though he were deeply considering it. "It's a nice place. Good buildings, good people, and I'm sure you'll all give me and my men your best."

I scrambled to discourage him. "Your pallet's finer than ours," I muttered, "I'm not sure you'd be very impressed with our best."

He barked a laugh and I decided then and there that it was an annoying and arrogant sound.

"Maybe you're right. It's sure not what we're used to. After all, you don't even have proper beds."

By those words the cold was suddenly back and something in me wanted to roar with fury. I had to physically stop myself from shouting a string of insults bursting to get out of my mouth. My head twitched involuntarily, perhaps making it look like I was trying to pop my neck when really it felt like there was something tickling under my spine. Ice suddenly rushed through my veins and this time I really couldn't stop the shiver from surfacing.

It felt as though something or someone was trying to… puppet me.

Glenn? What are you doing? I thought in horror.

Because I knew it was Glenn even if this was exactly the kind of thing he would never do in life. But death could alter a spirit greatly and even the gentlest and most forgiving of all souls could turn dark if their demise was as atrocious as what Glenn had to endure.

Negan saw my reaction and removed his hand curiously.

"Something wrong?"

"Spider." I said quickly, shaking my cloak for added affect. Much to my surprise a large brown spider really did drop from the folds. My eyes grew wide as plates and I might've croaked a bit at the sight of it.

That sucker was huge.

Negan didn't even wait. His boot was on it the next second. There was a sickening slimy crunch and my face twisted in a flinch.

I wouldn't have killed it. Spiders were revered to my studies with Vanessa and were considered good omens. Even though I wasn't fond of them, it hadn't bit me and she would have been disappointed in me if I went killing a spider without just cause. I would never find the guts to ever hold one, but I could live with one living on my windowsill, provided it stayed there and didn't hang out somewhere I was going to lay down. Yeah I could tolerate spiders.

Snakes, on the other hand, were another question entirely. They were sick little limbless monsters whose existences shouldn't have been possible! I hated them!

Negan twisted his foot over the goo of what was left of the spider, wiping his boot clean on the pavement.

"Damn that sucker was big." He announced putting his hands on his hips. "Did it bite cha?"

I shook my head, doubtful he was all concerned either way.

"Lucky I got it. You bring in all kinds of things from the forest, now don't cha?"

I wasn't sure how to respond by that so I said nothing.

"You know I was looking in your pack and I gotta say, the size of that trout is pretty darn impressive. It's not every person that can catch a fish that big, especially someone of your size." He looked me up and down, from my twiggy arms, my wispy short side ponytail, and my bony little legs that looked even more pathetic swimming in my brown cowgirl boots. "I had a grandfather when I was young used to tell me old stories about this massive catfish monster that used to taunt him and his fishing buddies on the Mississippi. You know those things can grow bigger than a crocodile?"

My brow lowered and I stepped away. "Don't mock me! I might be a kid but I'm not gullible enough to believe something like that. No freshwater fish could possibly grow that big."

He grinned again, amused by my disbelief. "But they do. Some grow so large they could be mistaken for small whales. They can even leap out of the water and eat birds, cats, dogs, and in extreme cases, people even."

I glared. He was making fun of me and I knew it. Although to be totally honest I was firm to assume that everything he told me was going to be a lie no matter what. Because that's what he was—a big liar!

"I saw the quail in there and those truffles. That's a meal for kings, kid."

Just then an idea popped into my head from out of nowhere. I'm not sure what possessed me exactly—well actually I did and his name was Glenn. But I knew either way Negan would take my pack, even so maybe there was a way I could still get something out of it.

"I'll sell it to you." I blurted suddenly.

His eyes rose in amusement. "You want to sell me your road kill and weeds?

"You just said it was a meal for kings." I countered.

He leaned against a fence and chuckled. We all knew he could take it and I'd get nothing, but out of amusement and curiosity he humored me. "Alright, Judy, what do you want?"

I looked him dead in the eye, taking care to hold it without blinking. "I want your bat."

His brow rose in surprise as he looked at me. "You want my Lucille? Out of everything else I've got? Why?"

"I think it'll improve my swing." I answered.

"Lucille's worth more than that whole pack. If you're looking to trade you've gotta sweeten the deal, sweetheart. And even after that I'm only going to let you hold her."

"Fine, what else do you want?"

"Well since I'll be without my weapon I think I want yours."

He pointed down to my slingshot, holster and pouch of pellets. A stab of anger ran through me, but I closed my eyes, aware that it had been doubtful he would have sold it to me so easily. Dad would be so disappointed that I'd given his birthday gift away, but I reminded myself that it'd be worth it.

"Deal!" And I swung the pack off, whipping out the holster, pouch, and slingshot. A Savior passed and I put it all in his arms.

Then Negan called over my father. "Your daughter just traded to take Lucille off your hands."

He looked stunned and disappointed just like I had predicted, but he handed it over to me. It was half my size and weight and the knob was hot and sweaty where my father had kept hold on it.

I took it and looked down at it blankly. I had never bought anything before; I wasn't sure how it worked or if there was more to it than exchanging goods like so. "Is that it then? Is the transaction over?"

He shrugged. "I suppose we're done."

With that, ice lit under my skin and I felt someone take the reins from me. My body felt like a machine that someone accessed through a remote control. I turned, dragging the bat's base in the dirt as I marched forward.

My father followed behind uneasily. "Judith…"

When the idea had crossed my mind to trade for it I thought perhaps I could throw it tonight in our fireplace and we'd all watch it burn to ashes. But Glenn seemed to have different plans.

I want him to see! I want him to watch it destroyed.

He carried my legs to the lake and my instincts were to struggle at the sight of the body. The last thing I wanted was to poison the water with that evil thing, but he didn't let me stop or even slow.

I! Want! It! Gone!

My arms drew back and before my father could stop what I was doing, a burst of unnatural strength shot through me, the bat swung hard and left my hands.

It sailed, farther and higher than should have been possible. I heard someone call out in disbelief as they watched its progress.

"Oh my god!"

From the strength and distance it flew, it was not going to land in the lake after all. It spun when I released it, gaining at least fifty feet in the air before it began to slow. As its altitude dropped it began to level out so that the barrel pointed to the ground. Then it fell so fast it was like everything had been in slow motion before I blinked.

The cap hit the pavement and there was an echoing "CRACK!" all through town. Upon impact, it burst into pieces and the barbed wire that wrapped around it unfurled like a thorny whip with a metallic ringing "TWANG".

There was a deafening silence all through those who had witnessed the symbol of our oppression shatter like the destruction of an ancient weapon from legends. At that moment I felt Glenn's presence leave me and as I felt my body being returned to me he left a doomed terror in his wake.

What did I do?

"Ho… lee… shit!"

Holy shit was right. I thought he would want to just throw the thing in the lake, not clear across it where it could explode on the pavement like a freaking firecracker!

"Holy shit!" Someone shouted again. "Oh my god! Did that… oh my god! Oh my god! A kid threw that! A fucking kid, man! Negan, did you see—,"

He was cut off as a fist slammed hard into his jaw. I jumped and saw Negan standing over the one who'd been freaking out insistently over the toss. Before I could blink my father was in front of me, keeping himself firmly between me and the enraged monster.

Negan looked positively livid, but then his expression changed very drastically and his shark eyes turned to survey me with a hungry interest.

"Strong kid you've been raising," He said invading Rick's personal space. "Jesus-fucking-Christ! What on earth do you feed her? I think I want some of it."

"N-Negan, you traded with her." Dad stated hastily, trying to get him to see reason. "You traded with her fair and square."

"I did, didn't I?" He said lowly. There was a wild fire in his eyes and my father looked as if he was deeply concerned he was about to burn me up at the sight of it. "Normally I would need to kill someone for that. Maybe a few people, and if I weren't so fucking impressed right now it'd be a long day for Miss Judith." I shivered and gripped my father's sleeve looking round him back towards the monster. "You seem to breed them well, don't you, Rick? Your son's a badass junior and your daughter could be a fucking human weapon with an arm like that. How'd she get that strong?" He demanded shortly.

My father swallowed, not knowing how he should respond so I answered for him.

"Adrenaline rush!" I announced. I didn't think he would buy temporary possession by the pissed off ghost of a man he murdered, as an answer. "Or it could just be because I'm a Grimes and I was brought up well!"

I felt my dad shift beside me and I wondered how he took that last statement.

"A kid your size that can hurl a toss like that didn't do it just by adrenaline or DNA." He said, cocking an eyebrow at me skeptically. "You're no open book. I bet you've got more secrets than the fucking Illuminati, if there are any left."

"I am too an open book." I argued, my voice squeaking a little in fright for what he would do if he began to think otherwise; but then I had to amend it, "I'm… just in a different language."

He smirked by that and turned back to my dad. "Well your daughter is just adorable and a hands-down freak." I felt a stab at being called such a thing; no one ever said things like that about me. Strange maybe—odd certainly, but never freak. His smile grew in a clearly unnerving way. "I think I like her. I want her here every time I come for a visit. And I want her finding things for me. You're getting old, Rick, because clearly she's more skilled than you are at this, so maybe it's time you pass the torch to someone else."

Out of nowhere two sharp bangs split the air and my father tumbled over, yelling out in pain and rage. I screamed seeing a spout of blood gush from his thigh and another from his foot as he lost his balance and fell to the pavement.

"Dad!"

I was about to fall next to him, and maybe staunch the bleeding, but before I could an iron grip caught my wrist just then and suspended it above my head, high enough to lift me to my tiptoes.

"Lemme go!" I yelled trying to tug out of Negan's grip on me. My fist punched out, trying to smack him but I made no contact as I struggled.

"LET HER GO!" My father roared, attempting to drag himself onto his one good leg.

"We're not going anywhere, Rick. You can relax, it's not like you can really do much else."

Then he turned to me as I fought to reach up and claw at his face with my only free hand. As terrified as I was that fear was overshadowed in favor of blind stupid fury at seeing my father injured by the thug. "Grr! I'll rip your sideburns off!"

His grip on my hovering arm tightened so hard it would definitely bruise. "Try it brat, and find out where else I can stick a bullet in your dear daddy."

I stilled ever so slightly, but maintained my furious glare on him.

"Your town works for me." He began dark and slow, piercing me with his narrowed eyes. "Your daddy works for me. Your big brother works for me. And now you work for me, too. I want you finding things for me, you understand? You're dad is going to be out of commission for a while so you'll have to pick up the pace for him. If I come back here and there's not something interesting for me I'm taking it out of his hide."

"You go right ahead then." Dad interrupted, stumbling to his one good leg. "I don't mind working on a bad—AHH!"

Dad stopped when Negan's gun spit a bullet into his right arm silencing him and making him lose his balance once again.

"I'm not talking to you, motherfucker!" Negan roared. "Stay the fuck down and butt-out of our private conversation!"

"Leave him alone!" I shrieked, drawing a knife and damn set on driving it straight into whatever shriveled tumor served as Negan's heart. It whistled as I slashed it back and forth trying to find contact with his abdomen and hopefully slash it enough to spill some of his intestines. It only reached far enough to scratch the leather before Negan caught my wrist with his other hand, joining it with the one suspended above my head and tugging the blade away. Now both my wrists were held above me, and no matter how hard I kicked or thrashed, I couldn't break free of him.

He regarded the stiletto. "Holy fuck, kid! You were totally prepared to knife me, weren't you? There was no ounce of hesitation in your eyes when you pulled that."

I kept fighting, tugging and trying to rip out of his grip but he was ten times my size and I knew the one hand he had hold on me now was strong enough to keep holding me for the entire day if he really wanted to. Just then he pulled me sharply up, tugging my body entirely off the ground to look him square in the eye. His voice once more dropped several octaves as he stared me down and I finally stilled when I felt the chill of the blade press hard against my throat.

"You're not fucking listening. As impressed as I am with your enormous balls and the cold killer stare you've mastered, it's a little grating, so unless you want me to keep on using your father as a target you better SHOW ME SOME FUCKING RESPECT!"

He roared right in my face and the force of it spooked me enough that I went limp at last, but my glare stayed on.

"That's better. Now… you went off and killed my girl Lucille." For a wild moment he looked terrifyingly unhinged, like it didn't matter if I was just a kid or not. He looked angry enough to beat the shit out of me, or worse. "By all rights I should rip your little throat out for that with this letter opener right here. There's this part of me that's screaming to do it. However, like I said I'm so motherfucking impressed by that throw that I can't seem to find it in me to do that. Anyone your size with an arm like that is way too fucking valuable to just waste like that. So you're going to work for me. When I come back here in a week I want what you found for me. If you don't fucking deliver I'm putting another bullet in your daddy, only this time it's going to be somewhere you can't take it out of. Do you understand?"

I was so furious that a pool of angry tears had slid from my eyes and I finally dropped my gaze, staring at a zipper on his jacket while my head nodded up and down in surrender. It didn't seem wise to speak; my voice would choke if I did. I was already crying and I didn't want him to hear my fear as well.

"I'm glad you've come around. This is so fucking exciting. And who knows…" he announced putting pressure on the knife so that I raised my gaze back up to look at him, "if you impress me again next week, I might just reward you for your services. I don't normally do that, but since you're already such a tiny badass I might just make an exception."

With those words he threw me to the ground where I crumbled hard, scraping my hands against the pavement as I landed. I looked up at him and he pocketed my knife, winking as he turned. "I like you kid. I don't want to kill you just yet."

As he grew distant I looked around and realized that all eyes in the whole town had been aimed at us. Even the saviors had paused as they watched in awe, totally transfixed for what had transpired. When Negan turned it seemed like a bolt of lightning had struck all his men individually and they jolted back to life, finishing their work to load everything on the trucks and head out once more.

I jolted as well springing to my feet and rushing towards my dad. He was bleeding bad; the worse I'd ever seen. People were already running to help hoist him up and get him to the infirmary. He had lost some blood but otherwise he was completely conscious. I couldn't imagine how bad it must have hurt for him but he was taking it like a man.

I followed Michonne, Carl, and Aaron as they spread him on one of the surgical beds. Heath pulled a tray of instruments towards him as he rapidly looked Dad over. "Nothing looks to be majorly damaged. I think you'll live."

"That's some good news."

Michonne noticed me and Carl just then and moved us for the door as people prepared for surgery. But before I had gone I caught the words Dad shouted at me before we had gone.

"Judith! You're grounded! AGAIN!"

"That's fair!"

The door closed and Carl and I were left outside while the adults got to work.

Author's notes: Things are heating up now. I was waiting forever to post this chapter. Here's where things start getting good. By the way the song she sings is a poem written by me for a spur of the moment. I thought it was a bit like a nursery rhyme. Since people pretty much had to start over from scratch since the epidemic it would make sense that they might develop little rhymes to maybe teach children about the dangers of walkers and what not in the forest. So that's just a little tune Judith made up on the spot.

Guys if you get the chance I would really appreciate some feedback about what you think of this story. So if you get the chance it would mean a lot to me if you review. Tell me what you like, what you dislike, what you think I could improve about it. I'm very interested to hear your thoughts. It really, really means a lot.