Doing exactly as he was he told seemed to be the way to keep this lady from shooting him, so Happy did just that. When their bridge was made and they'd both crossed it (he had to take a deep breath before because god damn, what a dizzying drop) Happy dutifully pulled back the board before she had to ask. Sometimes zombies could get intrepid because they didn't know any better than to be wary of a hundred foot drop. At least this way there were a few less undead following them.
As he jogged after her he finally thought to ask, "Where are we going?" A safehouse would be nice. He kinda hoped she wasn’t leading him to his death or something but that would’ve defeated the whole purpose of saving him in the first place. “-’Cause if we have to go down there,” he jerked his head towards the horde in the street below. “I’ve got a grenade to clear them out.” He’d picked it up in his travels and he’d been saving it for a special occasion.