"My reaction times are much, much faster than an ordinary human's," Pietro retorted, perhaps a shade more defensively than was strictly necessary. The clipped tone was accompanied with a frown; he wasn't particularly used to having his abilities questioned, but then, this wasn't his homeworld and Simon wasn't a member of his team. It wasn't the guy's fault that he didn't know.
"I'm from a war zone. It was just part of the training." This time, the tone was a little more gentle. Pietro was trying. "I--"
He was a good scout, too. His speed enabled him to travel large distances quickly, and he'd developed a good eye (and ear) for trouble. Experience had taught him that very loud sounds rarely meant anything good, and the scream coming from down the street? It was not good.
Pietro turned, got a glimpse of the mass of zombies coming around the corner, and immediately hauled himself from the vehicle. The keys stayed in the ignition and the engine was left running, but the driver's door hung ajar. "I guess they got into the bus."
The zombies had run down a middle aged woman, and had crowded around to fight over the meat. "Go." Pietro said, gesturing wildly at the car. "I'll distract them. Go, get to the hospital."
There were just too many. Too many to evade, once they got the scent. They'd chase the car, and even if they couldn't overtake it (hey, other people in the City had powers too; it wasn't out of the question), they might track the scent to the hospital.
It couldn't be allowed. Simon had been so adamant about getting there - the word 'cure' was a magic one, and if a cure was a possibility and not just the ravings of some crazy person? The only option was buying the stranger some time. "If you see Fred? Tell her to hide the next time she sees me - just in case. She should not try to outrun me; I can break the sound barrier on foot."