By the time he'd reached the building around noon, the mud he'd so carefully re-coated the reflective lining of his jacket with the previous night was flaking away. It was probably something he should have been concerned with, but between the cold, the hunger, and an oddly persistent headache, he just couldn't be bothered.

He's been exploring the building for about an hour when he becomes aware that the creeping nausea he'd chalked up to hunger is growing.

Oh.

...This is a wonderful time to be getting sick.