Bishop and Shelby
“It’s better than staying here and definitely getting trapped,” Shelby responded, not eager to keep moving, but not real attached to the small space near the dumpsters that she’d found for herself. And Bishop had a weapon, which was more than she could say.
“My car is in the lot, but I’d be happy to just get somewhere that doesn’t have people eaters.” She was proud of herself that her voice didn’t wobble when she said it. For some reason it mattered to her whether or not Bishop thought she was some frightened college student. She was, but she didn’t want that to be the thing he remembered most. “I’m pretty quick too, so if you clear a path I’ll keep up.”
Bishop was relieved when it didn’t take much convincing at all to get the young woman to leave her hiding spot outside of the store. Soon enough it wouldn’t be safe anymore and he couldn’t with a clear conscious leave her there. “Alright,” he began, motioning for the girl to move close to him. “We ain’t going for your car though,” Bishop informed her, the tone of his voice making it clear that this wasn’t up for discussion.
His bike was parked about a block away, Bishop preferred not to park in the mess that was so often Walker’s parking lot. Being out of the fray meant an easier time coming and going, and for once he was grateful for the habit he had formed in regards to where he left his bike. “You got a thing against motorcycles?” he questioned as the noise from the shufflers increased, moving closer to what was soon enough not going to be a safe space anymore.
Shaking her head rapidly, Shelby replied, “No.” Her Gram’s might have a thing or two to say to her about accepting rides from strangers on such a dangerous vehicle, but Shelby wasn’t in the business of turning her nose up at a way out just because it didn’t come with doors. “I’ve never ridden one, though.” All she had to do was hold on though, right? That was easy enough.
“Which way?” Because the crowd wasn’t getting smaller, with more people exiting Walker’s and more shufflers attracted because of it.
Without missing a beat, Bishop pointed west, away from Walker’s. “That way,” he answered as one final glance was thrown in the direction of the growing crowd and the noise from the shufflers. “And it ain’t hard to ride one, all you gotta do is hold on.” Bishop assured the young woman as he set off towards the motorcycle in question. His strides were long, but he tried to keep his pace manageable so as not to lose the petite woman -- even if she said she could keep up, Bishop tried not to make it any harder for her to do so.
To their right a small gathering of zombies were ambling their way towards them, still far enough away that Bishop wasn’t concerned, but close enough that he wasn’t about to turn his back on them either. With his free hand he pointed in the opposite direction of the zombies. “Go that way,” he directed the woman from the bakery, keeping himself between her and the zombies. His bike was just up around the corner, but Bishop knew a hell of a lot could happen in the few minutes it would take them to get from the point they were at to his motorcycle.
Shelby turned around and looked at Bishop wide eyed. “You aren’t going to leave me, right?” She went the direction he indicated though, sprinting as fast as she could. Her fear lessened at the realization that they were out of the worst of it, and she slowed at the turn, not sure if she was meant to go right or left.
“Which way?” she asked again, and felt like a parrot on repeat.
“No, I ain’t going to leave you,” Bishop replied quickly, voice gruff though not unkind. “What sort of person do you think I am to offer you help and then leave you?” he continued while they both moved at a healthy clip down the street, Bishop mere feet behind her as she ducked around the corner. He could still hear the shufflers ambling about in their direction, but there was enough distance between them now that he wasn’t nearly as concerned as he had been moments before.
“Right, take a right,” he supplied, waving a hand in the direction of the black motorcycle that was just down the alleyway to their right. “Bike’s right over there.” Bishop tacked on, just in case in her heightened state she didn’t see the motorcycle.