Chapter 15

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"Gonna be tight," Rick says. "Fifteen people in one house." After the funeral, Hershel had told Rick he wants us moving into the house where it's safer and warmer. The chill of winter is starting to set in. At first it'd been a relief, but now it's becoming an annoyance. 

   I hadn't gone to the funeral. It didn't feel right when I'd been the one to put a bullet in his head. When I hadn't been able to save him.

   "Don't worry about that," Hershel says. "With the swamp hardening, the creek drying up . . ."

   "With fifty head of cattle on the property, we might as well be ringing the damn dinner bell," Maggie finishes for him.

   "She's right. We should've moved you in a while ago," Hershel says. 

   "All right," Rick says. "Let's move the vehicles near each of the doors, facing out toward the road. We'll build a lookout in the windmill, another in the barn loft. That should give us sight lines. Both sides of the property. T-Dog, you take the perimeter around the house. Keep track of everyone coming and going."

   "What about standing guard?" T asks. 

   "I need you and Daryl on double duty." I have a feeling I won't be watching the prisoner after the incident with his nether regions and trying to slit his throat after Rick didn't shoot him. 

   "Gotcha," T-Dog says and walks off. 

   "I'll stock the basement with food and water, enough that we can all survive a few days if need be," Hershel says. 

   "What about Patrols?" Andrea asks.

   "Let's get this area locked down first," Rick says. "After that, Shane assigns shifts, while me and Daryl take Randall offsite and cut him loose." I shake my head. 

   "We're back to that now?" Shane asks, mirroring my thoughts. I'd like to go back to not at all agreeing with him, please. This is more annoying than Andrea's voice. 

   "It was the right plan first time around," Rick says. "Poor execution."

   "That's a slight understatement," Shane says. 

   "You don't agree, but this is what's happening," Rick says. "Swallow it. Move on."

   "You know that Dale's death and the prisoner - that's two separate things, right?" Shane asks. Finally, we disagree. Dale wouldn't have been out there sulking if we'd never brought Randall back in the first place. "You wanna take Daryl as your wingman, be my guest. Better than the lying killing psycho bitch you seem to love so much."

   "What did you just say?" I snarl, taking two threatening steps forward, one hand on a gun and the other on a knife. He kicks off the truck he'd been leaning on.

   "Are you as deaf as you are crazy?" he asks. "I mean, what kind of teenager takes a man's penis off like that? And it's not like you hesitated putting a bullet in Dale's brain."

   "Why don't you come over here and find out, Mr. I'm-going-to-say-my-best-friend-is-dead-so-I-can-get-in-his-wife's-pants? Homewreckers aren't as bad as rapists, but they're certainly up the on the list of people I don't particularly like." He scoffs and steps towards me. Several people surge between us, preventing us from possibly murdering each other. How did this go from him being passive aggressive towards Rick to us going for each other's necks?

   "That's enough!" Rick snarls. "From both of you. Ivy, walk away. Now," Rick demands. I don't move, glaring at Shane from the other side of our human barrier. "Ivy!" he snaps and I glance at him. "Walk away," he says in a calmer voice. I growl and spin on my heel, stalking off. 

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