Commotion? The question was in her eyes, but just as quickly it disappeared when she realized what he meant. “The fire escape was a piece of shit,” Angel replied bluntly. There wasn't much emotion in those words. The moment itself had been terrifying – the fire escape plummeting with her still on it – but it seemed inconsequential now. A moment she could rewind in her mind and feel as though it had happened to someone else, instead of her.
“I was moving. You stopped me.” It was accusatory, but not angrily so. Indeed, it was simply another observation; her generally quick thoughts slowed considerably from the impossibly huge rush of adrenaline and fear.
Angel's eyes went to the zombies again. She sniffed and tried to stretch her injured shoulder. “Why not? I'll probably be one of them soon. Quarantine's a nightmare.” Based on some of the stories she'd heard from people in government-regulated Quarantine, it was almost as bad as being trapped in a room with a zombie.
She shook her head again, now struggling with the choice of running again, or killing the man and letting the zombies eat him while she escaped. Angel could consider that option all she wanted, but when it came down to it, she'd never sacrifice someone else to the undead. Especially when she was one step closer to being one.
“So what're you going to do, stay out here with me?” She challenged. As if he'd do that for a stranger. “At least if I'm out here, I'm not stuck in a cold room alone. I can move around out here. Wait out the two weeks.” Angel knew she wasn't explaining herself as clearly as she normally could have. Stress did that. It made sense in her head, at least, and that was all that mattered.