"Reckless, I suppose I am, yeah," he said, "but given that I blew up a gas station, who is really more reckless, me, or the people who follow someone who does that? After all, even if I'm not the baddest, I'm still clearly not someone you want to fuck with, after all, and a bullet is a whole lot more accurate, and intentional, then a gas explosion."<br/><br/>He got up from where he was, and pulled off his shirt, rolling his gun up in it, with the barrel protruding. He put it down beside Alice, where one might usually put a pillow, and then he kicked off his shoes and stripped off his pants, laying them out like a blanket.<br/><br/>He finally lay down beside her, pulling off his boxers and stretching out, using his shirt roll like a pillow. The apocalypse had been kind to his body, he was all muscle and no fat. In fact, though his figure was lean, there wasn't a spare gram of fat to be found anywhere on him, and as such, his smooth skin was tight over firm muscle everywhere. He'd laughedthe first time he realized he looked like a kind of statue, from a sculptor who'd forgotten that humans usually only possessed a few exceptional characteristics, instead of all of them.<br/><br/>Still, the end of civilization had treated most people well in that regard, at least those an stayed active. Though, he got the sense that there was something else going on, especially given that he'd only been getting better over time, physically, when his diet stayed the same, and his exercise didn't really increase. The bite came to mind, but he'd only heard rumors, and he took rumors with a grain of salt.