The first thought Bruce had was that one of the zombies must have infected her with something. There was a raw, cold fear that he had put her in danger; that yet again he had put someone in harms way by letting them fight with him.
Kneeling down beside her, Bruce looked at her, trying to assess what had caused this without speaking. The girl was vomiting. Asking her to reply right now would be something like the dentist asking you questions with his hands in your mouth.