"Ha! F*cking city foke got it good huh?" Floyd whispered to himself as he mounted the beast. The sun shone directly on the black exterior of the Triumph Bonneville. The ape hangers were perfectly aligned. Though there was dust surrounding such beauty, a descent of water would clean it right up. Floyd then hoped on the machine, falling with a sight to its bobber style. He prepared to turn it on when his hand grasped nothing but air. The key was not on the ignition, so he grunted. 

He got off the bike and pulled his bow from around him. He pulled out an arrow from his hip quiver and prepared to strike. He looked nearby to find missing person and his eyes caught his victim. A walker, about five eleven - six feet tall. He had on a plated Levi's button down which was covered by a leather vest with a name braided on the pocket. "Its you ain' it big guy? Ain't know the city had bikers like you" Floyd said to himself as he aimed his bow to the biker's forehead. With a release, the camouflaged arrow swished through the silent breeze and brushed straight through the biker's skull, sending him straight into the concrete below him. The thud of his body colliding with the surface echoed through the thin streets. Floyd walked up to the walker and searched its pockets, locating the key to the beauty of a bike. It was his lucky day. 

After removing the arrow, he returned to the Triumph. He hoped back on and placed the key into the ignition. With a twist, the engine ran, but startled to stall. The motors monstrous noise echoed like the walkers thud, but twice as loud. Out of nowhere, walkers began to exit the nearby building. "Ugh, c'mon, c'mon!" Floyd started, turning the key twice more, facing the same effect. The bike would not start. The closer the walkers got, the more anxious and angry Floyd was getting. With that urgency on his mind, he noticed the kick start the Triumph had. He kicked it forcefully and the bike started, a burst of noise echoing through the city. With the walkers a couple feet from him, Floyd hit the acceleration and squeezed through the walker's grasp. 

As he drove through the profound crowded city, the moans began to follow him distantly. Floyd ended up with two choices a couple minutes later. Before him lay train tracks; train tracks which he could follow left or right. With a quick exhale, he turned to his right and began to speed through the soft and muted green grass. All that could be heard was the growl of his 'new bike'. Then within minutes to his march along the trail, the bike started to stall yet again. Within seconds to the stalling sound, the bike stopped in its tracks. Floyd ran his hand along his face and stepped off, kicking the machine on its engine then slowly sat next to it with his elbows on his knees. His eyes were squinted due to the glare of the sun. With sweat running down his face, he stood and started towards the near railway cars. There was no longer any breeze and the heat was unbearable. The cars would be great shelter for the upcoming night. One can even make a fire without worrying of burning down. As he reached the first one titled 'Express Agency', he couldn't help but notice a walker trying to make its way into a specific car. Floyd pulled out his trench knife and clanked it against the Express Agency, calling for the walker's attention. "C'mon you dumb dead bastard. I ain't got all day" Floyd called out as the moans started towards him. 

Without any further hesitation, Floyd walked up to the walker and jammed his knife into the walker's head, causing it to instantly drop dead. He then continued slowly towards the car the walker was trying to get into. "Hey! Anybody in there?" he asked before placing his hand on the door and prepared to open it widely, knife in hand. As he pulled it open, another walker jumped out, landing on top of him. With his left forearm, he held the walker back by its neck. With his right, he pushed his knife clean through the head. The zombie fell to its right. It was 'dead'. That's when a noticeable sound rang in his ear. The roar of what seemed to be a Harley was in the distance. The roar stopped once Floyd regained his balance. Slowly and steadily, he continued down the tracks, hiding behind the cars as his bow was loaded with an arrow. After a good jog, his eyes gazed upon a large man. He wore a damn skull on his head, like a freaken mask or something. "Look at this douchebag" he said, watching the situation from afar, waiting to see what happened next. He wasn't stupid enough to interfere in another persons problem, it didn't involve him.