Nathan blinked once. Then twice. Then a third time for good measure. The feeling in his chest was still there, but in all fairness he didn't know much about his enigmatic rescuer. He listened closely; he wasn't blessed with supernatural senses, but they had been trained to spot any obvious warning signs. He was still slightly shocked at the display the newcomer had just enacted, but the overwhelming gratitude killed the surprise. "Not really, just general graveyard sounds, crickets, crying widows, the wind" He smirked, happyto be still able to make shitty jokes in inappropriate situations. "Thanks man, I was feeling kinda like a buffet for a second there. Name's Nathan"

"Holly hellfire, son, that was incredible!" Stanley shouted, walking up to the pair with his hunting rifle lazily rested on his shoulder. "Appreciate you rescuing the damsel in distress here" He guffawed, slapping Nathan between the shoulder blades.

"Go have a 'Nam flashback, grandpa, I had the situation in the palm of my hand" He stopped, turned and pumped five rounds from his handgun at a silhouette in the distance. The body slumped and fell into the moonlight, revealing the classic rotted mug of a re-deadified zombie. "Thanks, fortunately timed zombie guy!" Nathan shouted at the unmoving corpse. He turned to Zan, "These zombies are a lot stronger than regular; I think they've had a little help" He lit a cigarette, pointing next to one of the recently disturbed graves. 

"We saw a bright flash coming from this grave, before the un-corpses emerged. Grandpa thought he spotted someone fleeing the scene, but I just chalked it up to his eyes being old and weary"