"Where are we going to find people anyways? All anyone wants anymore is to protect themselves. Taking someone they've never met all the way to CA on the snap of the fingers is not something people just do anymore."

Gareth shrugged. "Like helping out strangers was high on a lot of people's lists before the shit hit the fan," he growled. "We find someone willing to help and they can pull their own weight? I say it's worth giving them a talk to at the least. Not a big group, but a couple extra sets of hands and eyes couldn't hurt, ya know?"

Gareth spun, suddenly, ravioli can falling to the table as he reached back and drew one of the two kuhkri he carried from the sheathes sewn into the lining of his vest. The handles stuck out from beneath the garments hem at his waist, putting them within easy reach. His other hand he held up toward felicity, signaling for silence. 

A moment later he heard it again, echoing up the fire escape. The clang of metal striking metal. He ran across the apartment and put his back to the wall, window on his right and leaned over just enough to peek out the window. 

He couldn't see anything but judging by the noise, someone was climbing the metal steps. The dead don't climb. 

"What do you want?" He called. "We don't want any trouble but we will defend ourselves if you're looking to cause any!"