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For Doctor Fletcher Jackson,
zombies were the least concern of the team at Base Delta. For instance, the
blood-stained floors were really quite a haggard sight. And the canteen could
do with serving more meal options.
Persistent groans disrupted Fletcher’s
train of thought. The scientist turned to behold his latest specimen cocking
its putrefied head at him quizzically, obviously confused by his master’s lack
of interaction with him. Fletcher grinned at his grimy prodigy. His favorite
specimen, Grim, had already learned more in one week than any of his subjects
had picked up in a month. It was his fifth week of experimentation, and the
rotting lab rat had begun to grow on Fletcher.
Grim groaned lowly and pointed to a
damp cardboard box of miscellaneous objects Fletcher had scavenged for
experimentation. Fletcher looked to the box and chuckled.
“Oh, so you’re ready to get
started?” Fletcher asked the shambling corpse light heartedly. Grim’s dead,
clouded eyes had a small glint in them, and he responded ‘enthusiastically’
with a rumble.
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