"Right behind you." The shock makes her croaky, and she has to wonder if he knows she just saw him get bit. Or maybe he didn't feel it and he'll realise once they hit safety and have time to catch their breath. Either way he's right, they gotta go. He doesn't wear a helmet on the bike. She could press the muzzle of her gun against the back of his neck and be done with it in seconds if she had to, even though the thought makes her fucking sick to her stomach with dread and grief.
He's got time, before he turns. Time to get them out of here.
She leaves the car, running back toward the bike, and jumps onto the back behind him. The engine snarls in the same tone he did. "I'm good, go!"
no subject
"Right behind you." The shock makes her croaky, and she has to wonder if he knows she just saw him get bit. Or maybe he didn't feel it and he'll realise once they hit safety and have time to catch their breath. Either way he's right, they gotta go. He doesn't wear a helmet on the bike. She could press the muzzle of her gun against the back of his neck and be done with it in seconds if she had to, even though the thought makes her fucking sick to her stomach with dread and grief.
He's got time, before he turns. Time to get them out of here.
She leaves the car, running back toward the bike, and jumps onto the back behind him. The engine snarls in the same tone he did. "I'm good, go!"