“Nice cover,” Talia deadpanned as she sifted around in her tools. They weren’t really hers, but she used them most often so she’d taken possession of them for the most part. “I hardly think there’s anything worse than rotting zombie corpse, but that could just be me.” Putrification was by and far the worst smell Talia had ever smelled, she had nearly thrown up the first time she’d been faced with a zombie corpse. She’d come a long way from then.
She could understand Zach’s surprise; it would seem like something they had already perfected, but as far as she knew they hadn’t. “It’s possible that someone has, but I haven’t, no,” she answered with a shake of her head. “We don’t have the advanced equipment to run the proper tests to get accurate answers.” At the very least they would need a machine capable of running a CAT scan or an MRI; neither were exactly portable or easy to find these days.
“We have made progress though,” she admitted. “Not as much as I’d like, but small steps are better than nothing.” Maybe her expectations were too high, though, there was always that possibility.
Turning back to the table she set the tools she’d gathered on the space beside it and looked up at Zach with a grin.
“How are you with cracking a ribcage?” Digging around in the chest cavity had little to with the tendons and limbs, but she couldn’t pass up the chance to do a thorough autopsy on the zombie. She might learn something new even. “I could do it myself, but I might as well put your brute strength to good use while I have you,” she stated and outstretched her arm to where Zach was standing, offering him a set of gloves of his own.