Felix shook his head, trying to see if he could recognize anyone's phone in particular to swipe for the hell of it, or for some use he could figure out later, but a tiny voice in the back of his head nagged at him not to do it, not tonight. There wasn't even a silent, half-assed excuse that Pam might see, or he'd probably have to figure out how to get rid of it later. Just a quiet little don't do it.
And he didn't.
"Yeah, something with more range than a fucking butter knife sounds great," he chimed in, then glanced at the countertop where the bottles from the night before still sat. "Should we take some of those? If you're shooting shit you'll need light. Molotovs would probably do it and my hand-eye coordination isn't complete shit. Unless somebody moved the gas can they had out there." He realized he'd messed up with that knowledge a little too late, at first worried that she might wonder how he knew any of that. But she hadn't been out there, as far as he recalled, and probably wouldn't know if he had been or not. He could always say Lennon had mentioned something when he'd come over for the night, which he figured on any normal day might distract her more than anything else he'd said. Maybe not right now though. Had Lennon mentioned something? The night before was a bit hazy. "Might want to grab food and water if you haven't already."