It's almost uncomfortable, looking over the crowd. Fear. Pain. Hunger and anxiety and for a moment it is all too terribly familiar in the worst way. Older faces, different faces but the expressions are the same. She's seen this before, in the compound.

Adele shakes herself free of it and offers a nod to Daisy, one hand pressing against her side. Just a scrape. She'll live. She's endured worse.

"The man with a knife in the corner, there. Stabbed him." One cut along the shoulder from...she can't even remember when. Face purpled with a black eye. "The rest...scrambled. They are either unconscious in the kitchen or hiding behind the bar. They left when I pulled out my gun."

She doesn't mention the dead girl. Doesn't think about it. Does her best to breathe evenly and not vomit on the nightclub's floor at the memory.