During those ten minutes, Harry excused himself and listened to Bob for exactly two minutes on what was happening outside. Then he returned with a pair of shotguns and passed one over to the Winchester. "Sam, right? Most of those zombies, turns out, are just people. Normal, regular people who dressed up for a gig on Halloween, and became their costumes. This is because the entire fair is built on the site of a Hellmouth, a gate to Hell."
As he spoke, he was breaking down his gun, checking the safety, loading it up, and getting it ready for action. The wards were good, certainly, but it never hurt to be extra prepared.
"You're in York, Pennsylvania. Not sure how long you've been mostly dead, but it was six months for me, even when it felt like an hour. Different for everyone. Important notes? Your brother is here, I've got Bobby Singer on speed-dial, and Jo... you know Jo, right? She's down at the motel with Dean."
By the time he was finished explaining, Phaedra was back. Harry approved of the beers being handed out, and snagged one for himself. His fingers brushed against Phaedra's as he did, and a nearly electric sizzle coated his skin where hers had brushed.
Harry felt his heart start to beat overtime. He glanced down a bit, and met her eyes for a flickering instant.