If he wasn't quite so drunk off his ass, Barney would have squealed like a woman, in a most-uncool fashion, and possibly attempted to scoot away from Michonne. Alcohol had pushed him, obviously, into a state that no longer identified blatant threats or even implied ones as a danger.
Instead he quirked a brow, face contorting in confusion. "Walkers? I haven't...seen any old people here.."
This chick was damned crazy. If she wasn't so hot and he could stand to walk, he'd probably leave, but to go to where? Nowhere, may as well stay.