"Far be it from me to depress the bartender," Noah said, lifting his glass to Jace and then drinking some more down. It went down a lot easier than he'd expected, somehow. He was fine with not getting into anything deep, anyway. Noah had enough moments of deep rumination in the middle of the night as it was; no point in doing it now, too.
Noah shrugged a shoulder. "If there's a new type, I didn't see it," he said. "Just zombies, zombies and more zombies. Ad infinitum." Now that was depressing. You shot ten and it seemed that thirty more shambled up to take their place. Idly, he wondered how well grenades worked on zombies. He'd sure love to find out sometime. "Oh... yeah," he replied to Jace saying he liked knowing what was going on outside. "I don't go out too much. Not immune as far as I know. But I do a lot of guard duty, so I see things."
He drained his glass completely and asked, "Hit me again?"