Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The cold wind nibbles on Grace's skin, creating goosebumps along her arms. Rick and his group are packing up their things to move into the farmhouse after Dale's sudden death.
"Gonna be tight. 14 people in one house," Rick points out, placing his hands on his hips.
"Don't worry about that. With the swamp hardening, the creek drying up..." Hershel starts to speak.
"With 50 head of cattle on the property, we might as well be ringing a damn dinner bell," Maggie finishes her father's sentence and Hershel shoots her a firm glance.
"She's right. We should've moved you in awhile ago," Hershel nods his head.
"All right, let's move the vehicles near each of the doors, facing out toward the road. We'll build a lookout in the windmill and another in the barn loft. That should give us sight lines both sides of the property," Rick announces.
Andrea closes the tailgate and gives it a soft slap. T-Dog glances back at Andrea and lets his foot off the brake, letting the truck roll down to the front of the farmhouse.
Grace helps the others get situated inside the house and steps outside.
Grace sits down on the old rocking chair and picks up her book. As she flips open to where her bookmark is, Carl comes rushing up the porch.
"Grace, can I tell you something?" Carl asks with a soft voice, nervously shifting his weight back and forth.
"Sure," Grace nods her head, placing down the book.
"Dale. It's my fault that he died," Carl blurts out and Grace's stomach twists into uneasy knots.
"Why would you say that?" Grace asks, her eyes widening.
"I saw that walker. I was gonna shoot it. It was stuck in the mud, but I was gonna do it. It got free, came after me, and I ran away. If I had killed it, Dale would still be here," Carl explains, choking on his words.
"Carl, stop. Dale's death isn't your fault. You have to believe me. It's not your fault," Grace speaks sternly and Carl lowers his gaze to the ground.
"Are you going to tell my parents?" Carl asks, his lips trembling.
"No, of course not. Come here," Grace opens her arms and Carl runs into her embrace. She tightens her arms around the little boy and holds him dearly.
