The sound of a gunshot no longer startled him like it used to and, now, to be honest, it was almost comforting to hear it, knowing that it meant someone was around and for the time being, they had his back. Brennan wasn't used to depending on people, not since he seemed to have made himself an antagonist on the island. He was well aware of his reputation in the safehouse, not that many of the survivors were subtle about it. Elliot tended to blow up at him more often than the rest, though Brennan typically let him vent since that was what he was doing every time he berated someone. He could sort of sympathize with him too on some level, but he's never really had the opportunity or will to express it, since most of his energy went into not just punching the guy in the face and carrying on with whatever he had been up to prior to the interruption.
Even after so many battles, Brennan still wasn't quite used to the feeling of cold coagulated blood on his skin and it made ever inch of it crawl with disgust. If he had a weaker stomach, it might have even made him queasy, but there were a lot of things a zombie apocalypse, and few options in terms of food and cooking ability that could probably give anyone a stomach of steel. But Brennan just couldn't get over the feeling of that blood on him. He quickly wiped it off his face, taking a hit to his ribcage for it. It staggered him a little, but he recovered quickly and took the things head off shouldering its body to knock it out of his way before stabbing another in the temple and dropping quickly to both dodge an arm and to pull one of his knives out of the frontal lobe of one of the other infected.
When she'd attached the light to her gun, he was more than thankful and actually said a quick thank you before using the new amount of light to see exactly what they were coming up against. Two more shots went off and he truly was impressed with her ability with a gun. Maybe he would swallow his pride long enough to ask her for a lesson or two, but now wasn't the time to think about the future when he had enough problems in front of him. It looked as if every single one he had seen off the coast had made the long journey to the island. It was starting to worry him, but it looked like they were in fact all here, meaning that none had gotten any closer to the safehouse. Small blessings, he mused, as threw one of the knives at another infected, lodging it right in between its eyes as he grabbed another one and punched it in the temple, crushing the fragile bone and then got it under its chin snapping its neck back.
His efficiency with dealing with these things was a troubling thought when he let himself spend time mulling it over; the fact that he had become a calculated and proficient killer weighed on him more than he'd like to admit, but he still took that knife and twisted it in the zombie's neck to be able to hack at it's spine with one of the heavy-duty knives made for cutting through bone. Another couple shots went off and he looked up to see two more infected drop, before a third shot hit something that sounded incredibility close to him and he saw one on the ground reaching at him. He mercilessly stomped its head in. There were still a few stumbling their way over to him, but it gave him more than enough time to catch his breath and wipe a bit of blood off his face and attempt to judge if the swimmer that had gotten him in the chest had actually done any considerable damage. At least, he thought he had the time. He turned to look at Rae to check on her since her gun had been silent and saw that a swimmer had her by the arm. She wasn't moving and Brennan didn't waste any time in taking out a knife and hurling it at the infected's arm causing it to let go. He wasn't sure if the things could feel pain so he imagined it was more shock than anything else and he launched himself at the thing, taking it down to the ground.