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Dale was dead. Ripped apart by a walker. Rick had begged both Hershel and Adeline to save him, but there was nothing either of them could do, his insides torn apart as he lost blood rapidly. The poor man suffered greatly in his final moments.
This was now the third funeral they had held and the fifth body they had to bury out by the trees, it was becoming more like a graveyard. It made them all wonder how many more graves they'd have to dig. Who would be next? But this was their new normal. In a post-apocalyptic world, your lives hung by a very teeny-tiny thread covered in scrapes and bruises, tomorrow wasn't guaranteed.
That was something Adeline thought she took for granted. Going to bed in a warm cozy bed beside her husband with her daughter safe and tucked in just in the next room. She knew that wasn't the reality for most out there.
Winter was coming, daytime was getting shorter, darker and no doubt colder. Hershel had made the decision to move the group inside the house— so now all nineteen resided in the house, it would be a tight squeeze but the Greene man wasn't cruel, he wouldn't leave them out in the cold to freeze, and that would be selfish and rude— especially leaving a young boy and pregnant lady out there. It was safer to have them all in the house, with an unpredictable prisoner locked in the barn and the imposing threat of walkers constantly at their throats.
Hershel had generously offered his bedroom to pregnant Lori and young Carl, suggesting he would take the couch he'd spent a few nights of his own on. Maggie, Jen and now Andrea shared a room, Beth and Lola remained in their own shared bedroom, Carol had taken the spare room downstairs— what used to be Shawn's, meaning the rest of the group would inhabit the living room floor.
Adeline had helped the new residents move their stuff in and get settled, the rest of the group securing the farm for the winter months to come— hammering wood panels to the windows, herding the cattle, stocking up the basement with water and food, resetting the generators.
She was outside with Jennifer, moving old furniture off the porch.
"Are you okay?" Adeline questioned her sister.
"Yeah," Jennifer replied, shoving a garden gnome into a box filled with many other garden accessories.
"You sure?"
The youngest sister nodded.
"Well, if—" She was cut off by alarmed shouting. Everyone began rushing over to where Shane's yells became louder.
"Rick! Rick!" His shouting became more urgent as he emerged from the trees, blood dripping from his nose and down his neck, it looked broken, a little purple. "He's armed! He's got my gun!"
"Are you okay?" Carl questioned, concerned for the man.
"I'm fine. Little bastard just snuck up on me. He clocked me in the face!"
