The silence of the seventh floor was not an adequate answer. Callahan sighed and considered his options. His room was on this floor, so he could barricade himself in it, hole up inside with the provisions stashed in the room's refrigerator, or he could figure out what was going on and if there was at least one other person here who didn't have an urge to knock his brains in, at least subconsciously.

Reasoning that people stricken with this literally violent sickness would probably not try to stay in their rooms, but would go out looking for blood, he walked down the hallway, dodging the occasional maniac or two, and tried to see if anyone else had the idea of holing up in their rooms. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself, but he figured that in the unlikely event that he would gain an ally, then he would prefer that scenario to the other one which involved people biting at his flesh.

"Anyone out there? Well, I suppose I can't swear by the queen, but by the cross of Saint Patrick I promise you I'm a normal person!"