Nick & Pikachu
As Nick began to try swinging his leg over the bike again, it was on the tip of Pikachu’s tongue to offer to get up and out of the way. That might have allowed Nick to maybe do it without having to bend his bad knee so much, which seemed to be the problem he was struggling with. The whole thing ended up being moot, though, since he nailed it on the second go.
Waiting while Nick settled in behind him, Pikachu gave a glance in either direction down the street to confirm that it was still empty. Not that they couldn’t outpace anything except maybe a runner on this thing, but they were close enough to the grocery store to hear shouts and the occasional gunfire, and it made him antsy.
“Where we headed?” he asked, hand resting on the key. Once the motor was roaring again, conversation would be a lot more difficult to carry off, and Pikachu didn’t have the first idea of where Nick actually lived. Somewhere in the LBJ District was a good bet.
A sense of relief coursed through him at the sheer fact that the Hellhound -- Pikachu, he remained himself -- hadn’t said anything about his struggle to get onto the bike. Nick knew it hadn’t been graceful, or even the least bit coordinated. But he was on the bike now and for that he was more than a little thankful.
Thankful because it meant he might make it out of this mess alive. Nick was going to have to come to terms with the fact it was a man wearing a wolf patch that had even made his escape possible, though.
While he should have said his place in the LBJ district, he knew that Lita’s place was closer and would be a better option. “The UMCB district,” Nick answered without hesitation. “The residential area near the hospital,” he added, knowing that conversation would screech to a halt once they began moving.
Reluctantly he also knew there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d stay on the back of this bike without holding onto the man in front of him. Nick’s knee was already throbbing with pain, a pain he had to grit his teeth against and remind himself that it was either this or die at the hands of shufflers.
This was better. So with a heavy sigh of resignation, Nick took hold of Pikachu, grateful on some level that nobody was around to witness this.
“You got it. I might have to take the long way round, so just hang on back there.” UMCB district was close, as least, but Pikachu wasn’t sure whether they’d find between shufflers here and there. They shouldn’t be a problem, with the bike, but it still might be a delay.
The motorcycle roared to life and the pair sped off. Being Road Captain, Pikachu had spent hours learning the layout of the city, both on maps and in actuality. Leaving the border between the Capitol and UMCB districts behind, it shouldn’t take long to reach the residential area Nick was talking about. And maybe luck was with them. The biters -- and there were biters -- were only in small packs not large enough to cut off any road access. Pikachu simply weaved around them until the first houses were in sight.
“Which one?” he shouted, over the noise of the engine. With lucky, they wouldn’t be too far away.
Nick spent much of the ride wincing and gritting his teeth, cursing the fact that that men with motorcycles were the very reason he was even in this position in the first place. He very nearly let out a sigh of relief as they turned down Lita’s road and he just barely heard Pikachu over the roar of the motorcycle engine.
“Second house from the end on the left,” Nick yelled back, his words muffled by the noise, but hopefully still heard.