Bigby sat there in his truck with his eyes closed. He would not get out of his truck and utterly break the person who had hit his truck. The dumbass who had totaled his truck because they couldn't be bothered to pay attention to the road. [i]Multiple tons of metal, plastic, and cloth...and they can't look ahead...[/i] He thought before his eyes snapped open. With a squeal of stressed metal he shoved his door open. Well that was good, the metal wasn't welded together from the impact. The other vehicle was smoking while his trucks bed was half collapsed.

"Didn't even touch the brakes..." He muttered to himself while stroking his beard. He turned from the crash to the occupant of the other vehicle and could only see airbag through the window. Hell he wouldn't be surprised if they were dead. That kind of impact could push the engine into the front seats. The airbags started to deflate and revealed something he didn't like the looks of. A person was thrashing in their seatbelt, their lower body crushed like he figured it would be. But the only sound was an oddly savage growl and grunts. The person should have been screaming their head off before succumbing to tremendous blood-loss. A person would survive barely five minutes with both arteries in the legs so messed up. It didn't help the persons eyes were red tinged and milky like the dead.

He could hear sirens in the distance over the feral growls but they weren't getting closer. Actually...the city sounded pretty quiet. The normal din people made was gone. Popping open his nearly destroyed tool chest in the back of his truck he pulled out his normal deterrent of choice. It looked like someone had whittled a log down into a club shape and stuck and X of steel down its center to make a wooden flanged bludgeon. To hold it together so it didn't split were metal bands that had charred the wood. There wasn't a law against having a weapon, it was always about concealed weaponry.

"Well if they have a problem with it I'll just ask for an escort..." He muttered. The city was making him feel uneasy. It had this air of panic and fear. [i]Thanks for the empathy mom....[/i] He thought as he started a light job towards his favorite bar. He looked at the closest street sign and made a note that he was on Ennerdale Street. Up ahead on the right was the rear of the police station, so he'd be coming up on Fisson Street soon.

When he took the turn onto Fisson he gave a slow blink. Up ahead was a single person sort of wobbling while stationary in the middle of the road. "Bit early to be that wasted ain't it?" He called out while eying his surroundings. The figure ahead turned slowly and the more that was revealed the more Bigby didn't like it. The front of the person was drenched in still gooey and fresh blood. A gurgling groan came from the creature as it started shuffling towards him with arms outstretched. Its hands clenching and unclenching, the digits caked in more blood and other things the smith didn't want to think of.

"Yeah, no." He said before quickly darting around the shuffling monstrosity. He was not the police nor was he a doctor. He had no idea what the hell was going on but he wasn't going to just bludgeon a fucked up person to death. He was by far the faster of the two and it was easy to lose whatever the person was. Gunshots echoed off in the distance, that was a true rarity in Raccoon City. This got him to get his hustle on. It took him a few minutes from a good run to get to the bar. He pushed open the door and went inside before closing it behind himself. "The hell is going on out there..." He huffed while wiping some sweat from his face. He was so not big on running, but sometimes you had to.