In a tiny holding room, Daryl was stretched out on a cot silently praying The Lord's Prayer. He estimated hours had passed by since he and the others were moved from the highway to wherever he was. He didn't know the fate of Rick or anyone else in the group. The last contact he had with everyone was when they were being transported. When their captors placed the sacks over their heads he knew that they had no intentions of killing them at that point. If their captors wanted them dead they wouldn't have been concerned about them knowing the location of their base. Even more curious to him was the fact that he wasn't manhandled when he was moved to the vehicle. The people took enough care to tell them when to step up into the truck and where to sit so that no one tripped or fell. As soon as he was situated, he called out to Carl and Michonne. Before they placed the sack over his head, he saw a man carry Judith to a separate vehicle. With Rick gone, he had to make sure the other two members of his new immediate family were ok.

"I'm here." Carl whispered to his right.

"We're all here, I think." Beth responded.

Quickly, Daryl did a role call. Everyone answered except Michonne.

"Where is she?" Carl asked nervously.

Daryl slammed his fist on his cot, recalling the frustration of his last conversation with Carl as they were being transported. He didn't know where Michonne was at that point. And now, he had no idea where anyone was.

A knock at the door startled Daryl. "Come in?" He replied, faltering. If he was a prisoner why would his captors knock on the door?

The same older black man Daryl had seen on the highway entered the room with a guard. The man had a tray with a pitcher of water and some cups. He placed the tray down on a table in the middle of the room.

"Come, sit, Mr. Dixon." The man said, pointing to a chair at the table.

Daryl hesitated wondering how he knew his name. He gave the guard at the door a quick look-over before he cautiously moved to the table. After Daryl sat down, the man sat across from him. The two men didn't speak. They studied each other more closely.

"I'm Congressman Douglas Monroe of Ohio. The turn completely wiped out the entire line of power in our government making me the highest ranking official left to lead Alexandria."

"We're in the safe zone?" Daryl questioned.

Douglas laughed. "Is that what they call it? Young man nowhere is safe. But maybe the word safe is all relative now."

Daryl nodded his head in agreement. "Where are my friends?"

The congressman poured a glass of water and handed it to Daryl. "They are here in the complex receiving medical evaluations. I met with all of them before I came to you."

"Rick?"

"You mean the sheriff?"

Daryl nodded again. "What did you do with him?"

"Sherriff Grimes was very sick when we brought him here. He was severely dehydrated and is being treated as we speak. Dr. Shaw told me that another day out there and he would have been dead."

"My nephew and sister?"

"You mean Carl and Carol?"

"Carl and Michonne."

Douglas raised an eyebrow. "Michonne is your sister?" He said sarcastically with a laugh.

"Yes she is my sister." Daryl shot back at what he interpreted as ignorance. He quickly wondered if the anger he was feeling was how he made others feel in the past when his own ignorance and bigotry cut down people.

"It's just that-"

"I don't give a damn what you think about it." Daryl stabbed back.

"Mr. Dixon there's no need to feel defensive. All of you seem to have a very unique bond with one another. Maybe you can tell me about how all of you found each other one day over some Wild Turkey."

Daryl glared at Douglas. "Maybe."

Douglas got up from the table and paced around the room. "If you and your friends decide to stay with us there are of course stipulations. You have to pull your own weight. We expect you to utilize your talents to help Alexandria thrive. Crime will be adjudicated to the fullest extent of the law. Our society may have fallen, but we've still got to maintain order. We would never expel anyone from our community; however we do have a small prison population. We're still working on our housing developments so you and your group will need to share residences in the meantime. If you want to expedite the process you all are more than welcome to help with construction. There's no electricity in the homes. You either use candles, lanterns, or flashlights. We're using generators here so that's why there's electricity. Each week we're securing and expanding the city. We could use help with patrolling the walls and making runs."

Daryl nodded.

"I truly believe your group was brought here for a reason. This could be our finest hour if all of us can work with one another." Douglas pleaded. "I sincerely apologize for the severe treatment in the beginning. It's something I didn't want to do but under these circumstances I can't take foolish chances. I have people to protect."

Daryl was still perturbed by Douglas' amusement when he said that Michonne was his sister. He loathed condescension. However, he agreed with Douglas' thoughts on their arrival more than he wanted to admit. The congressman offered him a chance to be somebody and it would foolish to rebuke him over pettiness.

"What do you say, Mr. Dixon?"

"I want to see my friends." Daryl poured himself some more water and gulped it down. He kicked his legs up on the table, praying that he still he still appeared indifferent.