She really couldn't bear seeing him like this, like his spark had gone out. He'd been so inspirational before, and okay perhaps she already knew what he'd said - that there was nothing that could be done. It was all just plugging the holes, but she didn't want to believe it. Because she needed some sort of hope, she needed to not feel completely fucking useless. She needed to believe that against all odds things would somehow things would be okay, in a reality she wasn't even a part of any more.
Her hands were still shaking, as she continued to drink. She wanted to get out of here suddenly, to run into the middle of the jungle and just scream at how utterly shit this whole thing was. It shouldn't have mattered. She wasn't there, but it was just the sheer unfairness and futility of the whole thing that made her blood boil. "Then why the fuck are you admitting it now?" she asked. She didn't want him to be defeated, she wanted him angry and passionate and animated.
"Pretty much," she confirmed. "There's the odd weird thing, y'know zombies, weird weather all that bollocks, but it's no where near as bad as it was on the train. And like you said there's more room. My bedroom's like twice the size of one of the cabins."