"Yeah, if the land is viable. If it's just irradiated dust, fuck that. We can eat the roaches if it comes to it. What I'm saying is if we can't grow shit up there, or can't survive up there, then there's a finite amount of stored things in here."

It feels weird to say; he's never been responsible, but he's trying to act like an adult for the most part. At least until this place becomes too claustrophobic in the weeks ahead and he can't take it anymore.

"We'll have to ration shit," he suggests it like he hadn't just helped himself to an apple five minutes ago.