It's hot and chaotic in a hospital that hasn't seen air conditioning in over a year. The air is humid, muggy in the middle of summer, and then it's not. The skin on Daryl's face prickles-- the tears still on his face cool at an alarming rate. His unsleeved arms begin to shiver. He's pretty sure he's never been this cold.

He sees he's not alone. There are others caught in the cold darkness. He searches for a familiar face, and finds none. Standing sullen and angry, he watches as the soldiers gather, guns raised, and keeps his head down. He knows when to wait for an opportunity.

As cold and angry as he is, this is a good distraction. It takes his mind off what just happened back in Georgia. This is cold, terrifying, but it's not Grady, it's not the gun in his hand, the sight of her bleeding out on the floor. He keeps trudging onward.

He sees someone trip in the deep snow, and catches them before they fall completely. "Watch it," is all the comfort he can muster.

The little room they're set up in is creepy in its cleanliness. Daryl hasn't seen anything like this in years. It shouldn't goddamn exist.

He sits in a corner like a caged animal, hackles raised, waiting for an opportunity to strike. He doesn't answer any of the guards' questions, facing them with a complete silence, and doesn't ask any of his own. But it's clear he's listening, watching, waiting, for anyone careful enough to look. He doesn't have the most welcoming demeanor, sitting there alone, head bowed and expression twisted in a dark glare.

When the guards and scientists finally leave, he gets up, and begins checking the walls. He runs his fingers over them, climbs up on tables and bets to pat down the ceilings, looks under the beds. He's clearly searching for something, and doing so with a stubborn efficiency.

When they're all herded in for a 'checkup', that, Daryl thinks, is the end. He waits in the back, ready for them to start opening people up. It doesn't happen the way Daryl expects. Whatever they're doing, whatever they want, it's clearly something bigger than just food.

That just means it's worse.

He watches the line of people get called in for 'tests', and he studies the room. "Ain't no easy exits," he mutters. "They know their shit. Done this before."