Mumbled curses eventually led to a repeating of the phrase "I'm okay, I'm okay." This only happened after he had finished getting the goo off of his face and out of his eyes, which still burned. He felt like vomiting himself, but he managed to push down the sickness, and not let it control him.<br/><br/>He tossed his shirt to the side,  the damned thing was soaked in the goo, and he no longer cared for it; he'd rather be shirtless, even if it is cold out tonight. He flashed the writer a sheepish smile, glad for the care she gave him, even if he felt somewhat undeserving of it. "Thanks...c'mon, we need to get going."<br/><br/>He was kind of happy that the fight seemed to be over, though he could hear, and then see, the lone zombie. He also was likely to be hearing gun shots elsewhere still, a reminder that the threat is not over; and if their's no more gun shots? That'd actually freak him out. But, that's neither here nor there; that lone zombie;If he wasn't feeling so shitty and afraid the recoil might make him puke, he might have taken a shot at it. Instead, he just climbs down the ladder, a bit slower about it than when he had gone up.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Inventory and Character Status</div><div class="spoiler_body">Standard Issue Handgun (Ammo: 7/9)<br/>Insulin Pump (Battery life: 17 days, insulin reservoir: 200/300 units)<br/>Continuous blood glucose monitor (Battery life: 17 days)<br/>Glucose Tablets (x20)<br/>Three vials of Humalog (2,800 units)<br/><br/>Current HP/SP Status:<br/>Body Points:       85/90<br/>Stamina Points    57/62<br/>Status: Tired, Restricted<br/></div></div>