"Next time one comes a'meanderin' by, I won't shoot, let 'em on up and see if it can give you a hand." With the coast clear for now, Mal needed only to nod in the direction of the pile of bodies to direct Wash to keep watch. His boots clicked upon walking halfway up the lowered hatch to check on his transportation and mechanic. "What's the outlook, Kaylee. Ain't comfortable waitin' much longer."
While Mal wasn't talking to him, Wash was in agreement. Zoe was out there. Sure she could take care of herself, Wash didn't like knowing how that process was faring. Resting against one of the cargo crates that formed their blockade, he kept his eyes trained ahead. Maybe Zoe was trying to get to them. Maybe she'd get here before they got out there. The idea that he wouldn't see her again, it didn't exist. At least, he wouldn't let it exist. She was out there and they'd find her. He wouldn't..
"Incoming!" A groaning figure stumbled unknowingly toward the pile of headless bodies. Wash steadied his aim and soon the straggler was less part of his skull and an addition to the collection. "You know, this doesn't get any less gross no matter how many come in."