So Bobbi didn't have a conscionable reason to shoot him right there and put a swift end to however much more trouble he meant. She could hear the groans of the horde gathering below, those not quite savvy enough to find their way to the door and inside to their fresh, juicy meal. Inside, they hadn't quite made it up the stairs yet. And now Bobbi had to see this guy's pale, fleshy ass. She arched an eyebrow, sure that image was going to be etched in her brain forever.
"What's your name?" She kept her rifle raised, as if she hadn't decided yet whether or not to put a bullet in him. She couldn't anymore, not like this, not even for the horror of that awful tattoo or for telling her to 'chill out' like they had just run into each other at the Starbucks counter and she had no reason to take precautions, but she should have.