Sure. He was welcome to keep on looking. In the interim, she had marched over to his tool box. A struggled glance behind her at him, still swimming in the rain coat. She looked so tiny inside of it. A child in her father's coat. Besides the gun, she probably didn't look like much of a threat at all.
"Morgan." She was great at telling partial truths. Giving som Capitol sheep her whole name wasn't going to happen but, her last name wasn't used so much. She'd still answer to it if he needed to use it. Of course, for all she knew, he could hack in and see who everyone was. She wasn't thinking that far.
She took out a philips head, the longest screwdriver in the box. These things were good at disposing of Zombies when they were out of bullets. Something was better than nothing. Then she peered down into the street, at the wreck that was her truck.
From inside her pocket her phone and buzzed and she fought with the slicker she was wearing to get to it. She stepped away just in time, narrowly missing a few ping pong sized of blob that pattered around her, bouncing lightly before sticking to the asphalt on top of the roof.
Got car started. Where are you? Fucking Pinky. She couldn't have loved anyone more than she did in that moment.
This was when she started texting back. Not secretly like he had. He'd been pretty dodgy about it. "Good news Graham. Someone's on their way."