Oscar and Rachel's statements of concern for the dead reassured J.D. that he wasn't the only human being on the team, although it would be an overstatement to say he was comforted.  Comfort was going to be hard to come by in their current situation.  Sweat was already moistening every inch of Happy's body, both in and out of his suit, while a little phalanx of ravenous insects had descended upon the nutritious bounty he had just expelled onto the jungle floor.  Many of the attackers diverted to investigate the edible opportunities in the youngster's hair, ears, eyes, and nose, not to mention every bit of exposed skin.  A few adventurous bugs were even burrowing under his collar to get to whatever lay underneath.<br/><br/>Once he had calmed down a bit, the speedster turned his attention to making the environment a bit less miserable.  He covered the puke with handfuls of vegetation to minimize the stench and selected a wide, foot-long leaf to serve as a makeshift fan.  Flapping it at high speed dispelled the eager insects around his head and also created a much-needed breeze to offset the jungle humidity, which seemed to lap at the visitors with warm, dripping tongues.  He considered fanning his teammates too but decided not to volunteer such a service without being asked, since it was likely the others were untroubled or at least less-bothered than he by the hardship of the tropical setting.  Plus, if a few of those burrowers got into the costumes of his distaff counterparts, maybe they'd have to shed some of those pesky outer garments ....<br/><br/>(Or so one could hope.  That horniness could coexist with shock and anger in J.D.'s mind was merely a consequence of his tender, puberty-stricken age.)<br/><br/>The suggestion to bury the bodies was welcome, in part because it gave the troubled hero something to do, a small way to help in this disconcerting situation.  Seizing a jagged piece of metal that had once been part of the fuselage, he followed the lead of his comrades and sliced up enough stray cloth to encase the bodies, then hacked away the flora over a section of the jungle floor about 12-feet-square in size and 4-feet deep.  It would be more than enough to serve as a temporary gravesite, although he waited to fill it until his teammates gave their okay.  Besides, moving the heavy corpses was a task better suited to a super-strong partner.<br/><br/>All the talk of EMPs and nuclear bombs kept the teen's anxiety level at a 12 out of a possible 10.  The sudden appearance of a local in need of help struck him as highly dubious:  this guy has a car accident, his wife needs help, and by coincidence, a quartet of American superheroes literally fall out of the sky, within walking distance?  It was a scenario unlikely enough to have come straight out of a comic book ... but in spite of that, Happy was curious to at least investigate.  After all, superheroes weren't much use unless they had far-fetched obstacles to overcome and helpless civilians to rescue.