Learned in Landels? Well, he'd learned that a half-blinded, mute cripple could still pack a wallop if he happened to be armed with a shovel. And he'd learned that trying to pick a fight with someone else higher up the food chain was apparently a bad idea. Oh, and that he wasn't as freaked out by the idea of mutants running around with their mutant powers as he would've thought he'd be. But that probably wasn't what Armand here was expecting to hear. He probably wanted something a bit less personal and more useful, like Brock had some secret to scrapping by this long.

Brock thought about it. Weeding out the stuff like he happened to have someone to do the fighting for him and all those details, he supposed a lot of it was dumb luck sometimes. Lucky that he hadn't run into that many creatures, and those freaks that he had run into, he'd been able to take care of it, the coming dayshift saved their collective butts or he'd had some fellow patients as distractions.

"I can't really say there's one surefire way to survive here," Brock said, trying to keep it somewhat vague. "But I guess just have a lot of friends. Or just travel in groups. Safer in numbers."