The first thing out of Merrick's mouth is perhaps the least encouraging in terms of future survival ever excepting things such as "Auuuughgurgle" or "Oh God, my arm" of course.
"Oh. So that's what was wrong with the guy in sound stage 2." Yes Merrick, yes that was what was wrong with him and maybe you should stop being amazed over that, wipe the foaming latte mustache from your lip and crack that zombie across the face with the chair you were sitting in.
The thing's head snaps around on it's neck with a wet sort of crack, shambling back even as Merrick stumbles forward, both carried by the force of his swing. It's a fight in earnest after that.