Travis' head was spinning as so much shit went on around him. He wasn't built for this kind of stress. He wasn't built to save lives and fight…whatever those things were. As the russian walked up, rather abruptly, Travis glanced to him, a bit light headed from all the blowing at pumping. He didn't stop his pumping, only turned his head to the side a bit, confused by the man as he dipped once again and blew a huge gust of air into the girl's lungs.

"How long do you do this before you admit that a person is croaked?", he asked harshly, his breathing rapid as he straightened and continued pumping, "C'mon…"

His head snapped up once more at the cop that suddenly showed up, and he took her in. She was just what they needed. They needed guidance, and a skilled gun to protect them while they were vulnerable. They needed an advantage over some of the freaks out there.

As Travis dipped once more to blow air into Ryland's lungs, she gasped suddenly, nearly killing him as their lips locked. Her hands began flailing about, slapping at him and finally grabbing his hair to pull him away from her face.

"Whoa…hey. Stay down. Seriously, you want to stay down…", he explained, pressing her shoulders down. She didn't speak, only stared at him with wide eyes, her hands clutching at her throat, "We're working on that, sweetheart…"

Out of sheer worry for her safety, Travis turned the valve on her nearly empty tank as far as it would go, causing it to hiss loudly into her nose. With a gasp, she began to calm, her entire body shaking.

"There we go…", he whispered, pushing some of her hair out of her face. He let out a loud sigh, and sat back on his ass, his eyes finally training on the situation above them, "What the hell are you supposed to be?", he sassed at the Russian.