Iman squints at her, wholeheartedly not buying it, but trying to decide if it's worth pursuing just now. Probably not. To badger Jodie about it would be stalling from the real problem, as well as likely losing her only acquaintance as of right now.

"Thanks, then," she says, glancing back down at her hand. She sighs and drops it to her side, attempting to remain composed while rage and panic bubble up underneath. "Well, this is balls. Can't even leave the island, you say? I suppose we can't contact anyone outside Manhattan? Has anyone tried? Well, you might not know, I suppose. I'm gonna need to get in touch with these organizations. The Rebels and the other one? Or are they not speaking?"

Actually, first things first.

"You know what I really need right now, though," she says, blowing through all this without giving Jodie a chance to speak, "is a motherfucking drink. Take me to the nearest three bars. I mean if you want. I can probably find them myself." She shrugs. Jodie seems incredibly cagey, and Iman can't entirely blame her. She can drink alone, if she has to. She's pretty good at it.