Rick, Michonne, & OTA - cleaning up the mess
There was an obvious shift in the environment when it seemed as though the spirits had given up the fight in trying to overpower them for the empty vessels. Whatever the Astral Team had been doing, it was working, or at least scaring them off. Having the numbers helped this time and Rick was thankful that they were able to rally instead of losing someone else he loved.
Of course they couldn't prevent all casualties. In this new world there was even more that Rick couldn't understand and control, only capable of anything humanly possible with the resources he had. He of course felt bad for the few that didn't make it, but the familiar sense of self guilt that usually came when things out of his control didn't hit him as hard as it had before. This could be on account of becoming harder with time, or because he was literally too exhausted and confused about the whole situation to be sure if there was anything he could do to prevent everything. He was just a man in a world of zombies, wood creatures, and now? Dead spirits. Bullets didn't work anymore, and he had yet to find a replacement.
He couldn't say how long it'd been since they'd gone about taking the bodies in, keeping guard, fighting, and then getting them back to where they'd belonged, dispersing people back to their friends and family, handling those who'd passed properly...
Rick made sure communications with anyone who'd contacted him settled before he put that damned phone in the back of his pocket, locking up the rest of the cells. There'd be a slight worry of getting to sleep tonight, but he didn't think he'd have any trouble finding it.