The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon

-Paris, that's a straight shot. -Angers will be safer.

Isabelle: There's a man there with a radio.

He can connect us to our people in the North.

Quinn: Whole city's gone mental.

Isabelle: I can't leave my sister behind.

Don't I fucking always take care of you?

Isabelle: Laurent is special.

His mother died in childbirth.

Genet: Three years to get this ship seaworthy.

The whole endeavor scuttled. Because of what?

One American?

Isabelle: This is the town of Angers.

We can radio from here and get directions

on where we should head next.

Here -- take these.

Protect the horse.

You sure this is the place?

Our contact here is a musician.

He's been living in this theater for years.

Des gens?

Amis?

Bienvenue.

Des vivants.

Hold up.

Ask him about the radio.

Anglais.

I speak.

Sky blue, grass green.

Where is Brian?

He is in the kitchen?

Voilà.

La vérité est l'espoir.

Truth. Hope.

Radio. Come on.

Please, come.

Now we hear music?

Oui, oui! Le Nid.

Of course.

The radio could call. To there.

Can you fire it up? Get it going?

Going?Yeah.

Oh, no.

Do you like a show?

What the fuck?

I use some parts for...

Comment on dit...

Amplification?

Do you like Ravel?

The hell is he talking about?

Come on, come on!

Yeah, come on!

Please, come on, come on, come on, come on!

[ "Bolero"playing on speakers]

[Discordant notes play on stage]

You see? Music.

Culture! It lives!

Even now!

It still lives!

[ "Bolero"continues in distance]

[Discordant notes, growling continue]

We shoulda stuck to the plan.

It was worth a try.

Eh, it was a stupid detour.

Paris is too dangerous.

It's too dangerous everywhere.

We did it your way. Now we're gonna do it mine.

We're going to Paris.

Hyah!

Will there be hungry ones in Paris?

Imagine so.

But you're good at fighting them.

Everybody's good at something.

Alright. Hold up. Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Welcome home.

[Man singing "People are Strange"in French]

Your mother's high school, Laurent, was in the Marais,

right after this bridge.

Regarde,Laurent.

What's written on this car? I've seen that before.

It's Pouvoir Des Vivants.

It's a movement that started after the outbreak.

Most of the city is under the control of Genet

and her guerriers.

Like the guys at the abbey?

In desperate times, people cling to order.

Yeah, or God.

Laurent: Molière is buried here.

And Proust.

Sylvie: And de la Fontaine.

Daryl: Oh, yeah?He wrote fables.

Like "La Mort et le Bûcheron."

It's about a weary woodsman who wants to die.

But when Death comes, he has a change of heart.

He asks for help carrying his burden,

so he can keep going on.

It is about fortitude.

Sylvie: What is it?

Jim Morrison.

Who's that?

He was an American rock star.

He was in a band called The Doors.

He died in Paris?

Yeah, yeah. I guess so.

Not to fret, Monsieur Daryl.

You will not die in Paris.

Hm.

Stop!

No.

My name is Fallou.

That is Emile.

Bastien. Nadine.

We've been waiting a long time to meet you, young man.

I bet you got a radio here, right?

You hear that?

It's Paris crying.

Come.

Et voilà.

Home, sweet home.

We take turns for the daily tasks.

We welcomed our 64th member a few months ago.

A baby girl was born.

The dining room.

Here's the kitchen.

Ca va? Bien.

Our garden.

Ah.

Two and one half million.

That's how many rivets Gustave Eiffel used to build it.

Looks like it got the tip knocked off of it.

A military helicopter crashed into it at the beginning.

When the winds blow, the metal groans.

Laurent: It must be magical,

to stand under it

and look up at the sky.

How about that radio?Ah.

Et voilà.