Disclaimer- I don't own Walking Dead or any of the characters, but I like to play with and torture them at times.

Warnings- Rated M for cussing, nakedness, violence, improper English usage

Welcome to the sequel to Exile. I hope you like it. Did you know that there really is a town called Woodbury in GA? It is just a bit south of Atlanta. How cool is that?

Exodus -a journey to escape from a hostile environment.

Two hours after leaving the lake house and its inhabitants behind, Daryl pulled over and studied his road map. He turned onto Rte 18 South in Griffin after consulting the map and he decided to take Rte 18 down to Woodbury where he would jump onto Rte 85. If he followed Rte 85 it was a straight shot right down to Fort Benning.

Of course, nothing ever goes as planned and about six miles from Woodbury an overpass clogged with several burned out cars and tractor trailers squashed his plans. Daryl cussed himself blue in the face as he was forced to turn around and backtrack to Flat Shoals Road and bypass Woodbury, picking up Rte 85 in Warm Springs. All that farting around to get around Woodbury cost him precious time and when he came upon the clogged up portion of Rte 85 just North of Midland, it was almost 3:00 in the afternoon.

He shut off the truck and stepped out of it, shouldering his crossbow before climbing up on top of the roof of the truck. Daryl shielded his eyes with his hand and looked down the road. The traffic jam wasn't too bad, but it was larger than the ones he'd had to clear by himself the day he had left the Greene farm and found the house by the lake. Of course, one of the jams had been impassable that day due to an overturned logging truck. In this case here, the vehicles clogging the roadway were all cars and pickup trucks, so this wouldn't be too awfully hard. He hoped it wouldn't be, anyway. He double checked his map for an alternative route. The only alternative would add at least another hundred miles to his planned route and there was no way in hell he was going to waste that kind of gas just to avoid a bit of hard work.

It was extremely hot and it wasn't long before Daryl was soaked with sweat. The heat coming off the pavement and the vehicles was close to unbearable but he sucked it up and continued to work on clearing the roadway. A couple of the vehicles had bodies in them and after opening the door and getting a good whiff of the vile, putrid smell inside one of these particular vehicles, Daryl found himself on his knees and clutching his stomach as he violently regurgitated his lunch.

Yes, he could skin and gut animals with the best of them and he was no stranger to incredibly offensive odors, but the smell of 'eau de liquified decayed human' was unlike anything else. It was so horridly disgusting that even the seasoned hunter was brought to his knees. "Holy fuck." he moaned as he clenched his stomach. "Think I'd rather stick my nose up a skunk's ass than to smell that." He gave himself a few minutes to let the wave of nausea pass before he got back to work.

After three hours of maneuvering vehicles to form a space wide enough to get his truck through, he took a break. He could feel the heat rising off his body and through his sweat drenched clothing.

"'S hotter 'an hell." Daryl mumbled as he cracked open a water jug. He drank deeply and then poured a bit of the water over his head and let it run down his back and chest. He closed his eyes and thought about the house and the people he had left behind. What had the group done about the Carol situation? Was she a danger to the rest of the group or was he her only target? He was sure he had been the topic of at least a couple of conversations earlier today, probably mainly about his lack of manners and what an unreliable asshole he was. He hadn't said "goodbye" to anyone and had just slipped away like the sneaky weasel that he was. He smiled to himself. He would have loved to have seen Maggie's face when she found the heart shaped stone an the flowers he had left her. He sighed at the thought of her. She really had become his best friend and he was going to miss her.

"Shoulda fucked 'er before ya left, dummy." Imaginary Merle snickered. "'Course, hindsight's always better 'n foresight, an' that gal, mmmmm hmmm..she had a real fine, firm hindsight, din't she baby bro?"

The memory of his hands on Maggie's fine ass caused Daryl to swallow hard, and then he pushed the memory away. He had work to do and dwelling on that highlight of his time at the lake house wasn't going to get the damned vehicles moved out of the roadway and might end up making him more uncomfortable than he already was. He wiped his brow and went back to work. By the time the sun had set, Daryl had moved eleven vehicles far enough apart to get his truck between them.

For dinner, he mixed up a quart of powdered milk and drank it and ate three bags of the beef jerky that Rick had so thoughtfully packed in a plastic shopping bag and left on the floor in front of the passenger seat for him. The bag was full of the packages of dried meat and Rick had stuck a note inside the bag on top of the packages that read, 'I heard you like this crap. Enjoy!' Beef jerky was a little slice of heaven as far as Daryl was concerned and he exerted an amazing amount of self control to keep himself from wolfing down more than just three bags of the stuff.

At about 9:00 pm he settled into the truck to try to get some sleep, curling up on the bench seat and hugging one down pillow to his chest while burying his head in another. He was glad that he'd pilfered the pillows when he left the house. He was sure that when he found Merle, (he wouldn't allow himself to think "if" now, it was always "when") Merle would have plenty to say about his big, soft pillows and what a pussy he was for taking them. Daryl snorted. He just bet that a day or two later good ol' Merle would be claiming one of those pillows as his own.

Daryl gazed at the stars through the windshield and shifted to try to get a little more comfortable. It wasn't happening. His muscles ached, his head ached and his right hand burned and throbbed where he had amputated his pinky finger. He considered taking a Tylenol with Codeine and mentally reprimanded himself. "Don't need no pain meds jes' for this. Suck it up an' stop bein' a wuss."

The night was hot and humid. Daryl's shirt was damp with sweat and it was sticking to his chest and his back. Finally it got to be too uncomfortable and he groaned and sat up. He peeled the damp shirt off over his head and threw it behind the seat. It was stifling hot in the cab of the truck. The windows were both down about an inch to let air circulate but the air outside was stagnant and heavy. Daryl didn't dare to put the windows down any further. He had always been a light sleeper and it used to be that the smallest sound or nearby movement would wake him. He could go from 'dead to the world' to 'wide awake' in a second which was a great survival tool. Unfortunately and much to his dismay, he had recently lost that ability. He suspected it was a side effect of being sedated so damned many times over the past couple of weeks and he hoped the loss of his ability wasn't permanent. Because he was such a sound sleeper now, Daryl was afraid that if he left the truck's windows down and a walker or two showed up, he wouldn't wake up until he was already being eaten.

He shifted again on the seat and for a minute he wondered what the hell he was doing there. Here he was, in the dark, by himself, stranded on the highway and trying to get comfortable on the bench seat of a truck when he could be sleeping in his own comfortable king sized bed beneath a ceiling fan in the safety of his own room. He smirked. It wasn't his room or his bed anymore, though, was it? No, he'd burned that bridge when he left the group early that morning. Daryl wondered who would end up with his bedroom suite. Would Rick and Lori take it? Would Dale? Would they draw straws or play poker for it?

"Welcome to Texas Hold'em Strip Poker! Today's contestants are playing for what used to be Daryl's bedroom suite! Don't worry folks, we've fumigated the rooms, changed the linens and patched the bullet holes in the bathroom! Now Andrea, take off your shirt. What? You say we haven't dealt the cards yet? We'll take a short commercial break and be back in a minute with Texas Hold'em Strip Poker!"

Daryl pushed the game show brain fart from his head and closed his eyes. Was someone sleeping in his room back at the house tonight? Daryl finally gave in to his exhausted body and fell asleep, despite the heat.

At 3:45am he stepped out of the truck and rubbed sleep from his tired eyes. The air was much cooler now and he started to work on moving the rest of the vehicles in the road out of the way so he could continue on to Fort Benning.

Daryl wiped the sweat from his forehead with his t-shirt and looked at the clogged expanse of highway in front of him. He glanced at the sun and sighed. The position of old Sol indicated that it was only about 9:00am. Daryl had started working at a little after 4:00am, trying to clear the rest of the vehicles that blocked the roadway before the sun rose and brought with it the stifling heat. He had stripped off his t-shirt at about 7:00am and by 8:30am he was seriously considering working in only his underwear. The air was heavy and Daryl figured that the temperature was at least 90 degrees.

"In the shade." Imaginary Merle added.

"In the shade," Daryl agreed. In five hours time he had managed to move twelve vehicles. He folded his t-shirt and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans as he slowly walked back to where he had parked his truck. He climbed up onto the hood and pulled his hands away from the hot metal quickly. "Ow, ow, ow." he muttered under his breath and he loosely shook his hands as if that would cool them off. He hoisted himself up onto the roof of the truck and quickly stood up to survey the roadway ahead. Only five more vehicles to move and he would be through this damned tangle of cars. Beyond this traffic snarl the roadway up ahead was clear as far up the road as he was able to see.

Daryl made a slow full turn as he stood on the roof of his truck, looking around in all directions. The area around the highway in that section was wooded and there were deep ditches on both sides of the road. There were no walkers in sight. The cicadas hummed and Daryl could hear a couple of squirrels chattering to each other. Depending on how long it took him to move these last five cars, he might try to get a little bit of hunting in.

He had a good supply of canned goods and three whole cases of Pop Tarts along with some MREs packed into the truck, but he wanted to save those if he could. He was going to try to make it to Maine when he was done searching for Merle and if he did make it to Maine, he would need those food supplies. He had read about the climate in Maine and it wasn't unusual to have periods in the winter where snow storms dumped several feet of snow and the temperature went below zero for days at a time. He would rather not have to hunt in those conditions and temperatures if he could help it.

He surveyed the area around him once again before climbing down off the roof of the truck. Daryl grabbed a gallon jug of water out of the truck cab and drank about a quart of it. It was getting hotter and he had to make sure he didn't become dehydrated. He reached into the truck, popped open the glove compartment and pulled out three bottles of pills. Amoxicillan, Dexone and Dilantin. He fished a pill out from each bottle and tossed them into his mouth, washing them down with a couple of glugs from the gallon jug of water. Hershel had emphasized that skipping doses of these medications was not a good idea and Daryl had almost forgotten to take them. He smiled as he imagined the old vet standing in front of him with a stern look on his face as he shook a bottle of pills at him.

Daryl wondered if Hershel actually would move back into his farmhouse. He had said that he wanted to, but wouldn't it be better for him to be around the others? He wasn't getting any younger and he really seemed to enjoy spending time by the lake. It would be nice if Rick asked Hershel to stay and then let Hershel have the master bedroom suite.

Daryl finished moving the last vehicle, a very nice Humvee H3 out of the roadway. It had started right up, much to his surprise and he was able to maneuver it through a gap he'd created when he'd move two other vehicles. It was an awesome vehicle and he considered taking it, but the damned thing, as beautiful and well equipped at is was, was a huge gas hog and for that reason he couldn't justify keeping it. "Maybe I'll swing back through here with Merle and he can decide if he thinks it's worth takin'." Daryl told himself. After all, it was an automatic and surely Merle could still drive an automatic.

Daryl rolled his windows down as he drove away from the section of roadway he'd worked for hours to clear. It was a little after noon and the humidity had gotten worse. Daryl could tell that there was a helluva storm coming in from the east. It would be on him in another couple of hours. He decided that he would get off the highway and try to find a place to wait out the storm. Hopefully, he could find an empty house or gas station to hunker down in for a while. He reached over into the passenger seat and pet the stuffed skunk sitting there and then pulled a bag of beef jerky out of the grocery bag propped up next to it. A sign next to the highway indicated the exit for Midland was just half a mile up the road. Daryl would try his luck at finding a temporary shelter there.

Thus endeth chapter one..