"Fuck knows," Elvis says, shrugging probably a little too easily. "Your guess is as good as mine." All he does know is that, whatever is going on up on the street, he doesn't want to have any part in it. He's always been more comfortable than he expects most people would be in a situation like this, being down in a basement with dead bodies, but he thinks he's a hell of a lot calmer here than he'd be above ground right now, in no small part because Gwen is with him, too. An apartment would be an easier, if still not particularly likely, target for a break-in. If she were out out on the streets, he'd be nothing but worried. As it is, waiting everything out down here doesn't seem like the worst thing. "For that matter, I'm not sure I'd want to find out."

He's long since been more inclined to believe the worst in people than the best, but this is something else entirely, something he wants no part of.