[Jake could resent him all he wanted just then, because Graham wasn't leaving his son to fend for himself in the middle of a zombie wasteland. Once they were safe and out of the damn door, he figured Jake would want to go his own way. Didn't like it much, but he understood, and he expected it. Here, though, here he didn't have a choice. The boy could hate him but at least he'd be alive, better that than dead and liking him some. Ghosts and hallucinations weren't near the same as the real, living thing, much as he wanted them to be.
He went round the front of the truck, climbing into the passenger's side and settling his bag down between his feet. Maybe this wasn't real ideal, but Graham was glad to see his son all the same.] Not out to home, no. [Explaining wasn't going well, and he took a second to mull over his words.] Home is outside the hotel, but there's no way out. Some people go back, but it just... happens. No warning. Can't control it. [He shrugged.] Used to be here. Then, went to Gotham. Like the comics. Most recent, was in New York.