Conell did as he was asked. Something that he definitely didn't like, but the situation called for it. Now was not the time to a pointless asshole. He leaned against the truck, trying to keep his eyes scanning the land around them but they inevitably kept falling on Marshall and Luke. It was a shitty situation. His arrival in the group would now be marked with the death of one of their own. An unfortunate thing, but maybe his arrival had helped. If he and the copper had not arrived would the two men have argued? Maybe Luke wouldn't have stormed off, maybe he would have turned in the truck or back at camp and been a much bigger threat. Maybe didn't help anyone. It had not happened, this had, and it sucked big time. A minute or so passed before a shot rang out, signalling the end of the young man's life. Conell certainly did not see this coming when he took that handgun an hour or so ago. 

Marshall came back wearing a sad face and placing a hand on Conell's shoulder, something that made him tense up.

"Let's get the hell outta here."

Conell simply nodded, getting back into the truck and staying quiet. He definitely wasn't qualified to console.

“Sorry man.”

It was all he could say.