Your guess is as good as mine.

[ He says. Sourly. With acerbic tone and curled lip, honestly Tezca is probably one of the few people that would either recognize the dour, angry little man. His arms are loosely crossed across his chest, and one eye seems to drink in every detail of the room with his unblinking eye rounding back, and forth, and all around, the other following, but he doesn't have to appraise Tezca to know who he is. The voice is enough.

Odd, of course, that there is someone here that he recognizes right off the bat, and since... he's been dumped the whole load of the same information everyone else has, he has questions about that, but he certainly doesn't jump to ask them. That's because Tezca asked the most important question of all.

Where the hell is he going to find a smoke? ]

There has to be something if there's that few people left. Vices always follow destruction.

[ And he would know that one better than most, wouldn't he? ]

Think they will let us leave? [ A beat, and he spread his hands as if he's being magnanimous. ] If we ask nicely?