"I think", Ten Point's eyes were still wide with surprise and disbelief. "I think it's a fucking laptop, unless I've just suddenly gone completely crazy and am just now starting to hallucinate." God, how badly did he miss video games. He still had his trusty old PSP stuffed away in his bag, but the battery had long since died out, the screen was cracked and he'd lost the last of his games while hiding away from a group of infected under an old bridge somewhere around Arkansas.
He closed his eyes and shook his head violently, as if trying to get rid of the hallucination he surely was suffering from. But still, when he opened his eyes again, there was that guy with that laptop. Playing Dead Island, on top of everything.
"How?" was all Ten Point could muster before reaching out to touch the keyboard tentatively. "How on motherfucking Earth do you have a working laptop?"
Grabbing the scabbard from his back and placing it gently on the floor - one must honor ones rifle at all times, right? - he folded his legs under him, sitting cross-legged next to the still very nameless guy. "I mean," he muttered, "with no electricity and the world being what it is, how the hell did you manage to keep this in one piece and working? You must be a fucking miracle worker." Ten Point turned to look at the guy, completely baffled by how the day had turned out.