“Listen, old man. I didn’t drag my ass all the way here to die in a police station from grandpa not handling his case of the sniffles.” He was purposely calling her short now, she knew he was. If she was going to get stuck with ‘little girl’, he better get used to her calling him 'old man’.
Wait, he was in a group? As in, teamwork and all that? Well, holy shit. “Like I said, I’m split from my group. The slightest sign of a storm and everyone got confused on where to go. Unbelievable.” Of course she wasn’t in a group, not long-term wise anyways. She was used to going solo, less people to rely on the better. However, a game would be boring if other 'players’ weren’t involved. She never would do anything to cause harm to the group, just slowly separated from them whenever the time calls for it and would join another if the opportunity presented itself… Mostly.
“Look, you said it yourself, outside is a death wish. I have a better chance hiding in here than running outside wet, cold, and with impaired vision. I haven’t had a gun in a while, but I seem to be getting by.” More like 'Whenever I find a gun, I have no bullets and when I find bullets I have no gun. So fuck 'em.’ Sure, it wasn’t the most sane thing to do, but so far she was coming by on sheer luck. That, or her previous group served as a wonderful distraction for the would be swarm in this building.
“I’m handling it just fine. If anything, if I slip up they’ll just think I’m one of them or some shit, they’re zombies. Real original name calling by the way, haven’t heard that one a hundred times before. Nice try, sweetheart.” The gambler could blatantly tell she was just trying to get back at him with those sad excuses for insults. Absolutely adorable. It still irked him to be called old, especially when Coach had nearly a decade on him, but if she wanted a reaction she would have to try harder than that.
“It starts drizzling and they scatter like rats? Wow, you must have really lucked out with them, amazing teamwork there.” He should feel sympathetic for her landing herself with such idiots, but them’s the brakes sometimes and it doesn’t involve him, so sucks to be her. It made him glad that he had the team he did, even if he rarely told them as much. They’ve been through hell and back and stuck together the whole way, regular ol’ Horsemen of the Apocalypse as Ellis puts it. They were, unfortunately, getting good at this. Which led to Nick glancing down the hallways, his fingers idly rolling over his rings, feeling off-put by the lack of the near-constant growls he’s been accustomed to. He wasn’t anxious, just... antsy. Yeah, antsy.
“Still, could've picked a better hide-out. Hey, there’s a shoe store down the road if you wanted.” Nick snarked, sticking true to his woman-hating persona, but beneath the joke was an actual recommendation. It’s where he got his new worker’s boots after all, the dress shoes from before not exactly made for a zombie apocalypse. Now if they just could find a men’s clothing store...
“There’s plenty of hand guns in here, plus some heavy duty gear hidden away for riots, I think you’ll find something.” Why the fuck was he helping her? God fucking dammit, he hadn’t meant to say that. This is what he gets for traveling with goody-two-shoes, ughhHHH-- “Though if you’re “getting by” just fine, then that just leaves more guns for us, which is more than fine by me.”
