"Look, you got a dead man lying right at your feet." // from Esme to John!
"I know how this looks, ma'am, and truly, I apologize for any distress I'm causing, but fact is, while this gentleman appears to be deceased, appearances can be deceiving."
There is maggots in the corpses eyeball. John finishes loading bullets into his six-shooter, "here, look, can set your watch to it," he's leaning over the body, motions for her to join him, six-shooter in one hand, pocket-watch in the other.
When the minute-hand hits twelve, with an uncomfortable gasp and rigid flail, the corpse sits up, looks around.
"WHERE AM I?!" It demands.
John shoots him again, muzzle flash lights up the room, he gets him, right in the back of the head. The body remains hunched over, John pulls his shoulder so he's lying back down again. "We got another hour, then he'll be right back up again. Just don't make a lick of sense."