Calista took a deep breath and climbed onto the motorcycle, following Daryl's instructions.
The cruiser was big. The seat was higher than she expected, and the bike itself felt heavy.
She recalled Daryl's movements, turned the key, and pressed the ignition.
It should be kind of like riding a scooter... right?
"Vrrr..."
The vibration of the engine traveled through the frame, making her heartbeat pick up slightly.
She carefully twisted the throttle, just a little.
The motorcycle lurched forward all of a sudden.
Whoa.
Way stronger than a scooter.
"Ah!" Calista let out a small cry, instinctively squeezing the brake. The bike wobbled and nearly tipped, but she caught herself just in time by planting her foot.
"Relax. Go easy on the throttle." Daryl called out from the side, a hint of tension in his voice.
Merle watched with amusement. "Calista, this is making you more nervous than killing walkers."
Leah said nothing, but her eyes stayed locked on Calista and the bike, her body leaning forward slightly.
Calista's face flushed a little, mostly from embarrassment.
She steadied herself and tried again.
This time, she controlled the throttle more gently, and the motorcycle rolled forward smoothly for a short distance.
"That's it. Keep that feeling." Daryl's instructions were as concise as ever.
Next came turning.
That was much harder than going straight.
On her first attempt, the angle of the lean made her panic. She eased off the throttle without meaning to, and the bike nearly stalled and tipped over.
On the second try, she gathered her courage. Her body leaned slightly with the bike, her eyes fixed on where she wanted to turn, her wrist steady on the throttle.
It worked.
The arc was a little stiff, but she made her first turn.
"Not bad." Daryl gave a rare bit of praise.
Encouraged, Calista kept practicing.
She learned quickly. Before long, she had the basics down. Straight riding, turning, stopping.
She was nowhere near as smooth as Daryl, but she could now handle the bike on her own without issue.
The wind brushing past her hair, the engine rumbling beneath her, it all stirred a sense of excitement she had not felt in a long time.
Speed. Control.
Daryl watched as she went from clumsy to capable, a hint of surprise and approval in his eyes.
Her adaptability and nerve were beyond what he expected.
Teaching her had gone far more smoothly than he thought.
Daryl climbed onto the motorcycle they had unloaded from the pickup earlier and rode a few laps on the other side of the open space, getting used to it.
The familiar feeling of riding eased some of the tension in his body.
Merle watched Calista circling on the bike, then glanced at Daryl and clicked his tongue at Leah. "Tsk. Looks like I don't get a chance to show off."
Leah glanced at him. "You're better off driving the pickup. That's more useful."
In the end, considering their vehicles, their numbers, and Calista's excitement after just learning to ride, they decided to split up while heading to the town bar.
Calista and Daryl would each take a motorcycle, handling mobility and scouting.
Merle and Leah would take the old pickup, carrying any extra supplies they might find.
"Alright, let's move." Calista put on her helmet and goggles, swung onto the Harley, and felt her pulse rise with the engine's rumble. "Let's find Rick and the others and see how Hershel's doing."
Daryl nodded and started his motorcycle.
Merle fired up the pickup, still muttering, "Damn it. I wanted to ride too..."
Leah sat in the passenger seat, watching the two motorcycles roll out of the repair shop, one to the left and one to the right.
Calista's blonde hair fluttered beneath her helmet. A handgun Leah had just given her was tucked at her lower back, already loaded with the bullets she got from Rick before they left.
Leah quietly checked the weapons and supplies in the pickup bed, making sure everything was ready.
The roar of the motorcycles and the deeper rumble of the pickup shattered the silence of the dead town.
Calista took the lead, riding the black Harley. The wind pressed against her body, and a sense of freedom and control unlike anything she had known surged through her.
The frustration and fatigue from earlier seemed to be blown away by the rushing air.
She carefully controlled the throttle and her balance. The bike followed her intent, carving a smooth path through the empty streets. Still a little stiff, but already taking shape.
Daryl followed closely behind, scanning both sides of the street.
The pickup driven by Merle trailed behind, its engine rumbling like a drumbeat pushing the two steel riders forward.
But as they passed through an intersection, seven or eight walkers wandering ahead were drawn by the engine noise. They all turned at once and began slowly closing in.
"Watch it up ahead!" Daryl warned immediately, steering with one hand while reaching for his crossbow with the other.
Calista's heart tightened, but she did not panic.
She remembered what Daryl taught her. Keep your speed. Control your direction. Find the gap.
She lowered her body slightly, locking onto a thinner opening in the group. Her wrist stayed steady as she prepared to accelerate through.
At that moment, the passenger window of the pickup behind them rolled down.
Leah leaned halfway out. The wind whipped across her face, but her arm holding the pistol was rock steady.
She did not hesitate.
The pistol gave a series of muted, rapid pops.
"Bang. Bang. Bang."
Three precise shots.
Three walkers standing in Calista's path dropped instantly, dark blood bursting from their heads and clearing a section of the road.
Almost at the same moment Leah fired, Daryl moved.
Holding the crossbow in one hand, he stabilized the bike with sheer strength through his arm and core, aiming at another walker closing in from the side.
The bolt shot out.
It pierced straight into the walker's eye, the force throwing it backward.
The two attacks happened almost in sync. Clean. Efficient.
Leah cleared the path. Daryl covered the flank. Their coordination felt like that of long-time partners.
Before Calista could even react, most of the obstruction ahead was gone.
She locked in, seized the opening, and twisted the throttle.
The Harley growled low and surged forward, slicing through the gap like a streak of black lightning.
As she sped past the fallen walkers, Calista instinctively leaned with the bike, mimicking the motion of racers she had seen before. The turn was slight, still a little raw, but undeniably sharp.
The tires gave a soft hiss against the ground as she left the remaining walkers behind.
"Nice!" Even Merle could not help shouting from inside the pickup.
Daryl watched that smooth lean, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
Her learning speed and nerve were something else.
He quickly reloaded his crossbow, accelerated, and rode straight through the remaining walkers right after her.
...
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