[center][color=39b54a][h1]Robert Moore[/h1][/color][i]Interacting with [@Wick][/i][/center]

Robert was taken aback when another person approached him. He recognized her, but again, he didn't know her name. If he wasn't so shaken, he thought his face would have turned red from the embarrassment. Yet another person whose name he didn't know. However, her next words would have made the blood drain out of his face just as quickly. Her words brought to mind the man he'd first tried to help and his imagination helpfully supplied images of that man rotting out in the sun outside.

He felt like he was going to be sick. Instead, he simply nodded at her and continued on with trying to save those he could. 

He reached yet another person on the ground when he saw the woman from before come in. He felt his muscles tense, especially when she called him over. A feeling of dread washed over him. What sort of words were going to come out this time?

He steeled his nerves and stiffly approached her. He glanced at the box in her hands. Another wave of unease rushed over him. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what was coming next. When he reached her and scanned the contents of the box, he felt like he knew what it was she was going to say. There were a few answers as to where she'd gotten the items in the box, but there was one that rose to the forefront of his mind. 

Her words confirmed it. His throat felt dry. He knew it was logical and rational, but the sheer callousness still stunned him. He knew that this would raise his chances of survival. He knew the dead probably wouldn't need this stuff anymore, but... He heard his muffled voice before he even realized he'd opened his mouth.

[color=39b54a]"What the hell!? You can't just-! You can't-! Kh-!"[/color] 

His outburst stuttered to a stop as he made a growl of frustration through gritted teeth. He was breathing heavily. He struggled to understand what he wanted to say. He understood the woman's logic. It was rational. So what was it about this situation that made him so upset? 

Was it the fact that this person had just asked a teenager to help her rob the dead? Was it that she so easily said the words to a person she didn't know very well? Was it that he hadn't even finished rescuing the living yet?

What was it that he wanted to say? You can't just ask that of me? You can't just steal from the dead? He didn't know what, but emotion was surging forth from somewhere deep within.

This was all too much for him. Too much stress, too much terror, and the prospect of having to go through the belongings of the dead right after rescuing the living only served to increase the strain. He was fifteen. He'd been fourteen when he'd been brought into the bunker. He was still a teen whose voice had finally stopped cracking a month back. He was still a kid who hadn't even seen people die! Until now. 

His fists were clenched by his side as he shook with emotion. He dropped his eyes. He understood it, he understood what she was asking for and why. He just couldn't stand it. This was all too much for him right now. He dropped his head, sucked in a deep shuddering breath and turned away. He forced his hands to relax as he hurried away. 

[color=39b54a]"Whatever. I'm going back to work."[/color] he muttered.

He hastily began dragging someone who was still alive back into the depths of the bunker with his head down. He felt like he was about to explode. It was only after he'd made it to the back of the bunker that he realized his jaw was hurting. He'd clenched his teeth too hard.