O'Brien had been doing surprisingly well after taking a couple of the antibiotics that Laney had brought him the previous evening. Usually the first dosage or two of antibiotics was like a jump start to your system, and he was definitely feeling it. He wasn't at 100%, yet, and that may have been due to the lack of blood in his system. He was still a bit pale, but his fever had broke, so that was a plus. He no longer felt hot, cold, hot, cold, and then hot, and then cold again. He was doing good.
But he felt like he still needed to get out to a pharmacy, himself, and bring back as many antibiotics that he could find. If not for himself, then for others that might need them, considering the doctor and nurse characters in the infirmary at the Library, where he had been staying, kept saying that they were running low on medicine. The least O'Brien could do was help. And he might as well, while he was feeling up to it, just in case he started going back down hill later.
Clearly O'Brien was stubborn and had not learned his lesson, before, when he broke out of the infirmary and left the Library to go out and find a coat, etc. Had it not been for the nice young woman-- Ellie, who rescued him, he'd probably be dead. But he'd likely not admit that he was saved by a woman that was several years younger than him, and tiny! He appreciated it, though.
He had on the red coat that Ellie had helped find for him, the coat that he had decided made him look like a fireman or an Antarctic EMT, and the sports bag that he'd taken from that same department store, the other day, was slung over his shoulder. He'd need something to carry the bottles of pills back in.
As he approached the Fancy Pharmacy, he spotted the group of scantily clad shufflers and hesitated a moment before reaching into his coat to pull his gun from it's holster-- just as a precaution. When he made his way closer, an amused smirk slid across his features, when he realized the group of female shufflers were obviously no strangers to that corner. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, he was pretty sure one of them was that chick the Mayor was caught with not long before the outbreak. Interesting.
He kept his eyes on them as he made his way quietly across the street, carefully climbing up into the window to hop down into the Pharmacy. Giving a bit of a look around, O'Brien really didn't know where to start, and he didn't have much daylight left either, so he quietly continued further into the store, his gun at the ready-- just to be safe. He hated, hated, hated when the fucking zombies jumped out of nowhere to attack. He prayed that he wouldn't have to deal with any of those startling situations, this evening. He was still a sick man, after all! Dealing with a flesh-eating monster was not something he really wanted to handle, at the moment. He just wanted to find some antibiotics-- and maybe some fancy band-aids with the nice, little pictures on them, and get the fuck out.