For a moment, it appears as if Santana is going to speak, but it passes quickly and leaves her looking more confused than anything else. She presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth as her jaw drops open further, wracking her brain for something to say. "Rough," is the most that she comes up with, because what the hell else is there to be said? 'Wow, that sucks for you. Sorry your world ended.' Actually, she has to wonder if it even all that bad, the zombie plague. She can't count on both hands the number of people she'd not mind having reason to bludgeon with a — well, with whatever works best for killing zombies.