Mr. Anger Management takes the bottle and looks down at it, holding it up to the light to check out the colors of the glass and gives up when he realizes it's pointless.

"Then we don't have a lot of time either way," Apollo decides, bottle gripped firmly in one hand and a book in another. This was his only weapon.

"Alright. Grab the gun, get the ghost. Everybody good?" Apollo waits politely one second before he turns on his heel and peers out the door. Now to only get upstairs without any obstacles again.

"I'm really not in the mood for any zombies and I have a feeling it's possible," he comments flatly. Just saying.