He grunted. A pick-up truck with men in the back drove past--one had his visor up. Derek watched them unflinchingly, and soon enough the man with his visor up started shooting the other men in the vehicle. Nell squealed, but Derek silenced her by grabbing the back of her neck and squeezing--not so gently as Nell would have liked.
The visorless man was shot down by a comrade after his body had been used to kill two of the men and seriously wound a third. Nell listened to the yelling.

"...happened to him?"
"...Doug were here he'd know what..."
"..lost his marbles..."
"Walker is gonna be pissed..."
"...Jesus motherfucking Christ..."
"The Afterdark."

The driver got out of the cab, and another man came from the passenger side. The passenger was shouting violently about "the girl" and "The Afterdark" and how everyone ought to "keep their goddamn mouths closed or so help me I'll slaughter you like the pigs you are."
"He's nice," Derek said, with much sarcasm, under his breath.
Nell thought that, in other circumstances, Derek and this yelling man might have gotten along. They both liked slaughter, for starters. The Afterdark watched the scene. Only his eyes moved, the rest of him was at a standstill. Slowly, one muscle at a time, he shifted his stance so he'd be ready to spring. The tendons in his hands stood out like he had pencils under his skin.
Being tackled by Derek would be like being tackled by a lion, Nell thought. Her heart fluttered, and she didn't understand why.
The man was still yelling, "Helmets on! Visors down! If your face isn't protected, he can hear your thoughts and control you like a puppet!"
He'll do more than that, thought Nell, He'll kill your ass.