Angel looked at the gun like the stranger had handed him a dead kitten, he wasn't interested in using it in the slightest.

"Considering I just got here..." He shrugged and twirled the hilt of the machete in the palm of his hand. Angel watched zombies walk unsuccessfully through Dean's wall of flame. Although running felt like the smart thing, Dean didn't look interested. Angel, suffering from his own hero complex, wasn't going to leave him behind.

The thought crossed hid mind of knocking Dean unconscious and dragging him to safety, but considering Angel's present circumstances that wouldn't be easy. Or likely.

"Guy with guns, big bad. Big bad, Angel. Glad we all know each other now." There were still plenty of other zombies around, some opportunistically finding a way through the flame with the first. Angel kicked his leg up and then back, the zombie's head rotten enough that it's skull caved in and it collapsed.