Gunshots. More than once, Magnolia heard gunshots. Her heart soared in her chest as she started her bike and shoved her helmet down on her dainty head - walkers didn't carry firearms, there were humans nearby - but then plummeted seconds later - what were they shooting at? We're there walkers nearby? Or was it one of the looters, shooting to kill other survivors? Magnolia's efforts increased tenfold to get her bike outside, jogging beside it while gunning the throttle so it'd move under its own power. As soon as she passed the glass doors, she swung on with a well-practiced, graceful movement and shot forward before her ass had even hit the seat. She didn't know where she was driving, but she prayed it was towards other survivors - hopefully not looters, either.