"Mushrooms, mushrooms, mushrooms! That's all I've been eating for days, and even those ran out…"
The man banged his head against the wooden counter. The petri dishes clattered following the impact. Strains of mold could be seen staining the dishes, but the man didn't seem to care about those.
Dr. Eliot Voss was one of the few who got trapped inside UCSD's research wing when things went to hell.
Twelve days of isolation had taken their toll on him. Patches of his hair were missing, probably scattered all over the room.
"I should have listened to my parents," he grumbled, banging his head on the counter again. "This place is dangerous, even without the zombies. Fucking thieves are everywhere!"
He was once held to be a brilliant mycologist. Some of his work included working with lion's mane mushrooms and their medicinal properties.
The same mushrooms he had been surviving on. Since they were grown for research purposes, the quantity wasn't huge. Just enough to feed him once a day.
