Did this guy think they were friends all of a sudden? There wasn't a 'we' here, there was Bobbi and a potential bite victim and a horde of the undead coming after both of their asses if he didn't learn to listen. "Up!" she said again, darting ahead of him, letting him be bait if he really wanted to be. She wasn't strategizing with him, she wasn't empathizing with him, and she didn't want to hear another word until she had decided whether or not to shoot him. Following the sound of the gunshots, zombies were already surging into the building and swelling up the dimly lit stairs.
Five stories up, Bobbi burst through a heavy steel door onto the sunlit roof, the sudden burst of light making her squint, blinded, but she still slammed the door shut behind them and braced her back against it. Immediately, she raised her gun to her shoulder again, the survivor centered in her scope, and demanded, "Show me your arms." One eye peering down the barrel at him through the crosshairs, the other blinking open and closed as she examined him-- red-faced, from exertion or fever? Blood splatter, any of it his?-- she bit, "Turn around."