It didn't look fine to Indy, but then again, "fine" was relative, and in this situation anything that wouldn't prevent her from running or fighting probably qualified. Her point about his back was also well-taken, so Indy surveyed the street warily while the other two spoke Legalese. Even the horse looked like its hide was rotting off.

He was impatient to get moving again. The Zombis out here might've been slower, but the three of them were still a magnet for anything looking for a midnight snack. A spike in the volume of the moaning behind him made Indy look over his shoulder; a nearby group had found them and was starting to shamble its way over. He turned and swung the whip sharply around at eye level, hoping to keep them back a ways. How did these things pick up on their pray, anyhow, Indy wondered. Smell? Sight? Echolocation?

He didn't want to spend any more time waiting around to find out. They--well, he and Franziska, at least--had rudimentary ways of defending themselves, so what was the next step? Find meaner-looking weapons or help people who didn't have them, he guessed. Find somewhere safe, maybe set up some kind of barricade. Anything would be better than standing still in the middle of the road.

"Why don't we have this discussion on the way," he cut in. "If you still need a weapon, Dent, let's get it and get somewhere safe."