Travis narrowed his eyes at the man as he approached, perking up the second he saw the tank. No one else was dying because of him. No one else was dying around him, if he could help it. His hands were shaking as he watched Ryland's lips begin to change colors, first purple, and then nearly completely blue.

"She's dying, man…", he murmured, placing a hand on top of his head as he sat back on his ass. Just a few days ago, he was laughing with the old man about some of the people who were coming down with this "sickness". They had discussed that the victims were most likely on some sort of bad drugs, and would be brought back to health, but would probably get away with murder. He never thought it would come to all of this, and he damn sure never thought he would be the hero, running around saving people…only for them to die before they even had a chance.

However, as the man approached them, and explained that he was there to help, Travis clutched his gun a little tighter, his sheltered nature not wanting him to trust this stranger. After a second of fighting his own hand, his face shaking in frustration, he let go of the gun, and sighed, reaching out to take the tank.

"Th…Thank you.", he stuttered, not meeting the stranger's eyes. Ryland's mouth dropped open, and a small breath left her chest, and her body fell still, "What? No no no…You don't survive all this shit to die like this. C'mon…"

He passed the tank to Shannon, not even gesturing for her to obviously hook it up and get it running as he placed his hands over Ryland's chest and began pumping. After a few seconds, he pinched her nose and held her head back, blowing in her mouth.

"Give me a break, girl…C'mon…"