West folds and pockets the pamphlet he's been holding onto, and steps through the door, and looks up and around at the city, but as for enjoying the view, he more looks like it is some weird bug he is encountering, and he would like to poke it with a stick. Maybe only until it stops being annoying.

"Close enough to undead." He repeats that, and lets the statement hang for a moment. "Would you call her a doctor?" There are many, many questions he could ask. He is refraining from the incredulous ones, and sifting through the basics, first. About Pickman's situation, and the city. "I don't need a sandwich, thank you. Cross-city communication is primarily through this network. I assume getting word out of the city is not so easily accomplished?"