Getting away from the infirmary wasn’t ever easy for Zach, but that was more his fault than anyone else's. He had become some kind of twisted workaholic, something he had never been before the world went to hell – but he was now. Still, he could get away from the infirmary if he wanted to, and when Talia had asked him to come help her out at the lab he had agreed, if only to try and break himself of this dangerous work habit, one that was bordering on overworking. Now, that’s not to say he wasn’t worried about leaving the infirmary, but Ty was around that day and he trusted the other man to keep and eye on Samson and make sure things ran smoothly in his absence.
He was leaning against one of the counters in the lab as Talia dug through drawers for a set of gloves. His gaze kept drifting over to the shuffler laid out on the lab table, and he was trying his best not to be creeped out by it. Normally zombies had never bothered him, but ever since his run in with Gordy it was hard to look at them as just zombies. This guy had been someone’s son, brother or maybe husband.
Shaking his head, he tried to clear his head of that thought and remind himself that this wasn’t a person anymore. Thankfully Talia asked him a question and he was able to focus on that and not on the shuffler on the table. “I’m fine, trust me I’ve dealt with worse,” he paused. “Alright, maybe not worse, but I’m doing fine.” He had to admit she wasn’t lying though; the smell would take getting used to.
“You mean you haven’t figured out how to do that yet?” Zach asked curiously, surprised that team science hadn’t figured out a way to determine that. “But you are gaining data, which means you have to be making progress,” at least that’s how he saw it. “So what do you need me to do here?” This was asked as he motioned towards the shuffler, not entirely sure what being Talia’s assistant in all of this would entail.