The next morning we buried our own, and burned the rest. That's our rule, bury our own, burn the ones that we have no attachment too. But I recognized faces. There was the book store manager with only half a face left, a girl I saw regularly at the laundromat, her arm had been torn and there was nothing but a bone hanging from the flesh socket. There was also a police officer who patrolled the streets, I've never once seen him handcuff someone, he's one of those policemen who gives people warnings, and asks what they want for Christmas even though he's too poor to buy everyone in the city of Atlanta presents. There he was, gray skinned and yellow eyed.
That morning Daryl told me to keep the kids in the tent while they cleaned up. I said I'd help, so I explained the best that I could to Chris and Mary that they had to stay in the tent no matter what. If they have to leave for the bathroom, or anything, they had to call for me, or Aunty Dylan, who was going to be staying in the RV with Gwen. Nobody dared to ask her to leave Gwen's side, it was hard enough for her to stay in the RV while Glenn helped with everything. Being a Dixon, she's always antsy to do something, something helpful. Which was one of the funny parts about her being with Glenn, he always treated her like a princess, never wanting her to lift a finger.
There were a few people that Shane, Daryl, or Rick felt we had to hit over the head again. I didn't volunteer myself to do any of that, I just cleaned the camp. I cleaned around the fire pit, and picked up all the food, cups, dishes, and whatever else that was thrown about last night. The RV needed to be washed some, and there were plenty of dishes to clean for later use. While I knew I wasn't going to touch any of the now dead-for-the-second-time people who were sprinkled about our campsite, I knew no one else was going to worry about any of our other chores.