Deon had no interest in talking to this kid, the only thought on his mind was to get some food. He would do whatever it took to keep his two-hundred dollars not only secret, but fully intact as well. If his sister did come back, she might not have any money. And the longer Deon held onto the money, the more valuable it would become since everyone else would start to fret it away. Well...Deon had to think that there was an 'everybody else.' This kid was still alive, and now he was mentioning some woman who sold food so she obviously was doing well. He had to think though, if this Martha Stewart was doing so well, able to provide food to those who needed it...how did she come off so easy? The entire city around them was a wrecked city of death, plague and turmoil. No, something didn't smell right to Deon, and it wasn't the sweaty kid walking next to him.

"Something like that." Deon answered curtly and pushed on ahead, making it clear to the boy that he wasn't there to talk, only to survive. Once they made it to the indicated door that the boy had pointed out, Deon rapped his knuckles on the door, a strategy coming to his mind as he waiting for this Martha to open it for them.