Daryl

They drove through the night and the next day. Gas was getting low so they stopped at a car lot to siphon from the shiny cars sitting in a row. It took a while since each one had only a couple of gallons for test drives. They filled the tank and the gas cans. It should be enough to get them home.

And it would have been but the Prius broke down not far from Birmingham, Alabama. A hundred and fifty miles from Atlanta along an empty stretch of road with no vehicles and no houses nearby that might have yielded transportation. Daryl knew they'd find something eventually but it was early evening and it was getting more dangerous to be out in the dark. If they didn't come across transport soon they'd need to find shelter for the night. They took their food, water and weapons and set off walking.

Five miles later there were still no vehicles in sight but they heard the sound of an engine in the distance behind them. They readied weapons and stepped off the road into the trees. Whether they tried to hitch a ride would depend on what was coming their way. It was dusk and the light was going fast.

As it drew near, Daryl frowned and craned his neck to see the driver of the yellow Jeep. He stepped onto the road and held out an arm. The Jeep sped up and moved to the far side of the road in order to zoom past but as it got closer it slowed again and came to a stop. The window rolled down and a woman smiled. "I don't pick up strangers but I'll stop for Daryl Dixon and his friends."

"Carol. Glad to see you made it out of L.A." Daryl leaned down and looked across at a young girl. "With your daughter. Sophia, right?" The girl nodded.

Daryl whispered to Carol, "Your husband?"

Carol's smile faded. She shook her head.

Daryl introduced Glenn and T-Dog and they all piled into the back seat.

"What happened?" Carol asked.

"My Prius died," Glenn said glumly. "I might have skipped some regularly scheduled maintenance."

"I saw it a few miles back. Terrific gas mileage, I bet."

"Yeah, but your Jeep is still humming along. Did you have trouble finding gas?"

"Everybody in my neighborhood mows their own lawn and a lot of them weren't home. I raided their garages for gas cans."

Daryl looked over his shoulder and peeked under the tarp covering the cargo area. It was neatly packed and stacked with gas containers of varying sizes. "Smart," he said. "We'll be glad to help with the driving."

"Thanks," Carol said. "I'm running on adrenaline with no one to switch off with. I don't like to drive at night but it's cooler and I wanted to keep moving when it was dark."

She pulled over and Daryl drove. T-Dog rode shotgun. Carol curled up against one door with her daughter tucked against her. They slept, exhausted. Glenn napped against the other door. Daryl had thought Carol was a calm, capable woman during the flight but now he was impressed. A recent widow on the road for three days with a young daughter to protect. This was one tough woman.

Two hours later it was full dark as they approached Atlanta. There was an unfamiliar glow against the night sky. Benford and the Dixon homestead were on the other side of the city.

"There's a quarry a couple of miles off the road. We can get water, maybe spend the night. I don't like the look of Atlanta up ahead. Maybe there'll be people at the quarry who can tell us what's going on. T and Glenn, have the guns ready just in case. Carol and Sophia, stay down."

Daryl drove slowly up the lane. He could see vehicles ahead in a rough circle and campfires beyond.

Suddenly T-Dog said, "Oh, shit. Big white dude coming out of the trees with a rifle in one hand and his other hand is a hook! This don't end well for black folk."

Daryl braked. He and Glenn both called out, "Merle?"

"Daryl? Glenn?" Merle approached the Jeep. "You made it!" He stooped to look in. It took him a few seconds to look over the occupants and know that somebody was missing. "Amy?" he asked grimly.

"She was attacked on the way to the studio. She got there but she died a few hours later."

Merle grimaced. "Andrea's with the kids. She'll take it hard."

"How do we tell her?"

"I'll do it. But she'll probably wanna talk to you sometime. Drive on up. I brought extra tents."

Merle traded guard duty with a Hispanic man called Morales. Andrea heard the commotion of their arrival and came out of Merle's big family tent. She knew just looking at them that it wasn't good news. Merle took her aside and spoke quietly. Andrea started crying softly and he wrapped her up. They walked away a little so she wouldn't wake the kids.

Glenn

Daryl and I put up the two-man tent that Daryl shared with Merle before he married. A smaller tent they used as boys is big enough for T-Dog. An older white-haired man named Dale has an RV with two beds and he offers the extra bed to Carol and Sophia.

We're reunited with Daryl's family and settled for the night but sleep doesn't come easily.

The next morning we learn that the military called in airstrikes and released napalm in Atlanta in an attempt to stop the spread of infection. It didn't work. The city is not only overrun with walking dead but parts of it are burned.

It's not officially summer but Georgia is already hot and dry and the water was almost gone so Merle left a note for Daryl and moved his family to the quarry.