"Everyone hopes for a lot of things," he said without amusement, his mouth twisting slightly as if the words on his tongue were laced with lemon juice. Ryan didn't bother affirming that he would indeed let her go if his end was inevitable. There wasn't any other option, not for him. But he also didn't care (or so the man said to himself) if Sophie saw him as bad, heartless person, so, why discuss the good deeds he would do, but won't. Because he was not going to become a zombie. No way in Hell, Heaven or whatever the heck actually existed.

They could discuss how good or evil he was after he had his freedom back. If he was being honest, he thought that the plan forming in his mind wasn't much kinder than the fate originally in store for her. Ryan wished he could share it with her, attempt to explain, but he couldn't trust that during drug induced haze and perhaps even torture the blonde would go through, she wouldn't spill it. Then they both would be doomed, as theatrical as that sounded.

And why on Earth she'd agree to it, anyway? No, she'd say 'screw you and your zombifying, I'm not going to go through anything to help your sorry ass and why should I trust anything you say!?' He wouldn't blame Sophie, he'd do the same in her situation. Heck, he'd be a lot more rude and physical. Of course, he could try to play on that pity note, tell her she'd a honorable thing and that since he already had her captured, he had no reason to lie, but...

The woman's last statement brought him out of his thoughts and he shook his head. "Settle down. We're not going anywhere just yet. Not for an hour at least." Ryan stood up, flinging backpack over his shoulder and looked about the room, as if trying to spot something that he had missed previously. But there wasn't anything. Hm, maybe getting out of here wasn't such a bad idea after all. He felt like animal in trap, although this was probably safest place they could be right now. His thoughts were tumbling over all the junk here, he needed free space in which his idea could grow, take a certain shape. He had to have clear, definite plan ready before he took Sophie back through the portal. Nothing half-baked would do.

"On second thought," he spoke and moved towards doors, pushing the furniture stacked in front of it to the side. The man did it as slowly and quietly as possibly, still not believing that the zombies were actually nocturnal or anything. When their exit was cleared, he cautiously opened doors and peered outside. It was rather dark and empty in the hallway and Ryan motioned for blonde to follow. He headed for stairway and headed up, entering attic. It was just as clustered with broken furniture and thrash as all the other rooms in this building. He inspected ceilings with scrutinizing look.

"Ta-dah," he commented her unspoken question with smirk (damn, part of his face felt stiff when he moved it), pulling on a string that opened ceiling hatch. But the rusty ladder that should have slid down to the floor didn't come all the way down. Instead, it got stuck about 1/3rd and Ryan refused urge to grimace. He reached up and tugged it roughly with his left arm, but it didn't budge. Humorlessly, he thought he'd rather drag the whole roof on them than get the ladder down. "Can you reach it and pull yourself up or you'll need a lift?" he asked, looking at Sophie.