Julian had stopped short when the scent of blood hit the air. Because, at the same instant, the heavy scent of death following the zombies had also vanished. Vanished, as thought it never was. That didn't happen with scents. They lingered, for hours or days, in that fourth dimension of time.
It was replaced with the thick scent of makeup, of sweat and exertion, of fear and confusion and one single boiling point of fury located directly beside him.
He wasn't fast enough to stop the hunter, but he was quick enough to grab the actor - one he even recognized! - from replying in kind. "Whoa, Jason-- Jason!"
He held onto the young man's shoulders, pulling back gently. "Hold on man, you just... you scared the shit outta my buddy there."
The former zombie turned, holding a hand to the side of his jaw. "Jules? Man, he shoulda read the rules! You don't touch us, we don't touch you!"
Julian relaxed his hold a bit. "Dude, you did touch him. His arm's bleeding." He shifted his hold, and held up Jason's hand so the young man could see the blood on his fingers. Jason blinked, then swore, wincing as his jaw shifted. "Shit, man, I'm sorry. Uh. Look, can we just not mention this? I'll say I fell, they'll patch me up, no harm no foul? Can get your arm looked at too."
Julian let his classmate go now, looking at the hunter. "You okay?"