Gordon had, by that time, landed the bounding bike on their makeshift road with a thud that could knock fillings loose, bits of metal on the bike scraping the rocky armorescent plating and kicking up showers of sparks. Sorry, Zero.

"Hm?!" He risks slowing to a crawl for a moment to follow Joel's indication, and something else catches his eye. A rocky shoulder process that, as the beast raises his hoof, angles down into a ramp...

"Hold on. I've got an idea!"

Oh hell. He revvs the repulsor and aligns with the ramp in the scant second that the beast is resting. Then he punches it just as the shoulder flexes again, making their planned launch procedure suddenly and terrifyingly obvious.