"A body's a body," Graverobber was growing mildly annoyed, but at least her voice wasn't high-pitched like a few of the blondes he had run across. "You'll decompose and become the same thing, sweetheart."
Brushing the last of the wooden debris off of him, it was only then he reached over to brush the dirt that the girl had so graciously kicked at him off of his shoulder. He grabbed his Zyringe--a syringe used for the sole purpose of extracting Zydrate filched from GeneCo's Post-Plague Renascence faire--and hopped back into the hole he'd dug. His boots made an odd thumping noise as they hit the old wood and he put a gloved hand on the corpse's face.
Forcing it's head up, Graverobber inserted the Zyringe into the nostril, a faint hissing sound coming from it. The man let out a slight sigh, pleased with himself, and pulled the plunger back. Immediately the glass vial began to fill with blue liquid.
"Zydrate is GeneCo's gift to mankind," he explained. "The ultimate painkiller." He looked over his shoulder, smirking.
"A world your pretty little face wouldn't understand."