The scene inside the restaurant was a very rare occurrence. Jonathan moved to the front of the crowd who made way for him easily thanks to his imposing stature and appearance. His grip on his pipe tightened as he approached the door. He wanted to know what was beyond it by looking through the glass windows, but they were covered in some kind of grime. He rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue - not that anyone could actually hear or see these actions. He then slowly approached the doors, having been overcome with curiosity and the will to protect. The crowd had held their breath and he extended his arm to open it when someone burst through the doors. Jonathan quickly jumped back and raised his pipe.
It was a waitress. He narrowed his eyes at the waitress with his pipe aimed at her. She shakily pointed back at the kitchen. Jonathan could clearly see the bite on her arm - crimson liquid dripping from the wound. The moment he saw it, he knew that others noticed it as well. They broke into murmurs and suggestions on what action they should do next. He looked at the waitress without much interest. No, there was something else in there. He also knew that there were those who don't become full-fledged zombies because of zombies and that might be the case for the waitress. Jonathan wasn't an expert in this so he didn't really care. He swiped off a relatively clean towel and then handed it to the waitress.
"Tie it around the wound. Good luck." He offered those words so that she would calm down and try to become optimistic. He wondered if it could work in an area where someone was openly suggesting to kill her.
They couldn't risk the protection of everyone just for her, after all.
However, just as he finished saying those words, the zombie finally came through the door and swiped at the waitress. This caused the population to burst into panic as they ran away from the infected human - stumbling over furniture and pushing each other to get away quickly. The waitress was now cowering over to the side, bleeding from yet another wound. How saddening. Jonathan looked back at the zombie who was no proceeding to go to the others who were panicking. Jonathan had faced so many of those zombies that he didn't even feel afraid anymore - not that he could afford it in this world. He heard the man from earlier yell something about taking care of the zombie. There was no need to state the obvious, at least, not for him.
He quickly aimed to hit the zombie with the full force of his power so that it would stumble back to the kitchen. It would leave the opponent dazed for a while and he would take the chance to strike the zombie with a downward swipe. He wasn't scared of leaving himself open to the zombie's attacks as it wouldn't really affect him all that much aside from yet another torn clothing that he would just have to stitch himself. The wound, itself, would be no problem. Not with all those radioactive pools scattered around Pallet Town.
@Leaves