Nick nods to the first question; it was according to his watch anyway. He had considered the possibility of taking himself out than have one of those seemingly indestructible fuckers come at him. But there's still some fight left in Nick and he intends to escape. They can't stay in the closet forever phrasing, especially since the animatronics don't seem to be letting up either.

He takes in a deep breath, exhaling as muted as he possibly can. He doesn't know how good their hearing is, but he imagines their senses are better than that of lurkers. He never thought to reach this conclusion, but he'd much rather take his chances with the undead. Four lurkers are nothing compared to even just one of these guys.

"The chicken," he answers, still holding the gun in one hand and the flashlight with the other. "Shootin' at it didn't do shit so guns might as well be useless. And I got a feelin' they know where we are...they're just waitin' for us."

As he says that, he inhales sharply as if to expect the closet door to rip open right that instant. For his near curt response, it's pretty easy to tell that he's been rattled by what he's seen. And Nick has seen some shit.