Rose only obeyed for the sake of keeping them together. Lights and sound flew by them in a haze. She wove through rows of jingling slots and tables, wondering how Sherlock was navigating so smoothly. Along the way, she picked up a thin, metal stick used for wrangling dice. It wasn't heavy, but she could certainly get some swinging force behind it.

The storage room door opened, and Rose halted long enough for her head to clear. "This is daft. We'll be cornered," she protested. Her eyes remained fixed on the rest of the casino. She saw no zombies in the immediate vicinity, but her hand still death-gripped her makeshift weapon.

"Get what'cha need," she suggested. She could stand guard while the gents gathered supplies. Maybe she was wrong, but closing themselves in a storage room didn't seem the safest. It wasn't particularly... armored.