ReAnimator/ Walking Dead: DeadFall

Two

     She had found a couple of cans of Campbell's Soup. Once in the kitchen, Herbert was presented with a choice. "Potato soup or Cream of Broccoli?" "Potato, I guess.", he said. She handed him the pop top, a spoon and watched the look of incredulity pass over his face. "You're not going to heat it up?", he asked. "There isn't exactly electricity, friend. Besides, this stuff is already cooked. It's just a matter of heating it up. It won't kill you.", she assured him taking the first bite of the cream of broccoli. She grimaced a bit but dug into it. Without much options, he pulled the pop top off and dug into his own. The couple did have a good supply of Ginger ale, she slid a can over to him. "I'm guessing one of them loved ginger ale. So do I.", she replied setting the can of soup on the counter. Herbert finished off the soup, then cracked open the can. Thankfully it was still carbonated, the fizz tickling his nose. Mischa walked back into the office, locking the door. The smell of decay permeated the office and apartment, but opening the window a bit to air out the stench. Herbert found a dingy couch in the small living room and plopped down, this was all too much for him to deal with. Everything had happened in one fell swoop. One minute he was swamped in the emergency room, the next watching as a fat guy ripped Dan's neck open. He'd been hiding out in his house for a few weeks until things got too dicey and he was forced to leave.

"You alright?", Mischa asked walking in. "Exhausted.", he said his arm thrown over his face. "Ain't we all. This place is the best for now. If things quiet down in the morning, we'll head south. Get some sleep. I'm too keyed up right now.", she said heading into the office. Herbert fell into a dreamless sleep. He'd never gotten more than a few hours a night of sleep. Before he knew it, he was being shaken awake. "Hey, sleepyhead. Time to get moving.", Mischa handed him a small plate with crackers and another ginger ale. "While you were sacked out, I packed up the rest of the food, medicine, and soda. We could always use the medication to trade if we need more food. I found some packed bags in one of the motel rooms. Someone left in a hurry and must have forgotten their stuff. I found some clothes, men's about your size.", she set down a large plaid suitcase on the floor. "I'm fine.", Herbert was pretty OCD about his clothing. "No, you're not. You can't move fast when you're wearing suit pants and dress shoes. Find something to wear. I'll bag your stuff and when we can get to where we're headed, I'll personally wash them for you.", Mischa put her foot down.

Herbert was about to balk but stopped when he saw she had her arms crossed and was frowning. "Fine.", he muttered, unzipped the suitcase. A pair of black boots sat neatly on the clothes, under that were jeans, T-shirt's, socks, and some personal hygiene items. "The bathroom is back there.", she said. He could see she wasn't leaving him with any choice. Mischa watched him stand up and carry the bundle of clothing and boots into the bathroom. She bent down to zip up the suitcase again. She had also checked the other rooms for any food, liquids or other medication. She found a large stash of pot which she promptly dumped out, some Xanax, Prozac, and several bottles full of OxyContin. It puzzled her to think someone was transporting this much Oxy. Whatever the reason, it would serve them well. Trading purposes and all. Her brother, Merle would have probably downed half a bottle of it before she could have stopped him. The man absolutely lived for being numb and dumb. All the stuff she had scavenged, she put in the back of the truck. Dr. West had been sleeping like a rock when she came back. She recognized him last night when she saved him from the dead man. She'd worked a case involving him and his roommate. It was utterly bizarre and something she'd never forget.

One of her colleagues had told her about the strangeness of Dr. West. He had shown her a notebook taken from the house. It made her wonder if he'd been missing it. The scientific formula inside was complex and almost beyond her scope. Whatever he was trying to concoct it might have benefits. It seemed like he was making an attempt to extend terminal patients lives. Or at least that's what she garnered from reading it. She knew it was evidence but couldn't bring herself to put it in evidence. She kept it until all this went to shit. Packing her own belongings before bagging town, Mischa brought it with her. Herbert came back out of the bathroom, a bit astonishing that him wearing normal clothing made a big change in his appearance. Aside from the glasses, she wouldn't have guessed he looked better wearing blue jeans and a blue Harley Davidson T-shirt. "The boots fit alright?", she asked. "Surprisingly, Yes.", he said taking the plastic bag she offered for his dirty clothes. Damn, why'd he have to look good in those jeans?, she mused. Herbert picked up the suitcase and waited for her get ready.