Stewart plopped into the driver's seat with an irritated groan. Not only was the world going to shit, but he had complete strangers piling into his vehicle and like the chick in his backseat, he felt like vomiting too. After all the running, blood and gore, and the dead walking around to eat people, he deserved to vomit. This bull was disgusting! "Eugh..." With a sigh, he leaned forward over the steering wheel and popped the keys into the car's ignition, priming the engine until he heard the engine rattle under the hood. No luck. He cursed under his breath as he tried again, listening to the engine jump to life and the usual jazz music radio station replaced with static. A sigh escaped his lips and he adjusted his glasses before standing up, looking towards the those that weren't already in the car.

Cupping the side of his mouth, he shouted and waved towards gun-guy and bait-person. "The cars up, get moving!" He lowered his head back into the car, checking if everything was actually ready. He had adjusted the rear view mirror, fiddled with the window wipers like an amateur, and then finally, reassured the readiness of his vehicle. "By the way, I'm Stewart." He said out loud, staring up at the mirror.