"The grouping is very important when it comes to having a blood transfusion. The patient's body can start producing antibodies that attack the antigens on the blood cells in the blood that was given to the patient. For example, a patient who is blood group B has naturally occurring Anti-A antibodies in the blood," Nami read aloud. "See! It matters, you can't just hook him up to just anybody willy nilly."

"Luffy did it," Franky muttered.

Nami made a face, "Should I also shoot you? Will you get back up?"

Franky pouted, "I have…"

"Yes, yes, we are all impressed. You are very masculine," Robin assured him impatiently. "But we need to do something. How can we test for blood type?"

"Guys," Usopp panicked. "I really think he's dying…"

"Calm down," Clay insisted, placing a hand on Usopp's shoulder. "We'll get it figured out."

"Ya know," Nami decided. "We should just get on the intercom and tell Luffy to get his ass down here. That'll work. Right? Right, Franky?"

"Yeah, sure," Franky replied, shrugging his broad shoulders. "I felt awesome after mine… well, when I eventually woke up…"

"Oh God," Chopper sighed, pressing his hands to his cheeks. "We're going to kill Sanji."

"We're not going to kill Sanji," Robin argued. She seemed to reconsider her words before adding, "But he might die on his own…"

"Robin!" Nami chastised.

"I am also bleeding a lot," Franky remembered, nearly slipping in the blood that pooled beneath him. "Fuck…"

"Hellooooo," Brook spoke into the intercom, "Paging Mr. Luffy and Mr. Zoro. Please return to the daycare. Mr. Luffy and Mr. Zoro, please return to the daycare. Your children are ready for pickup."

"Nice," Nami sighed, rubbing her temples. "Hope they aren't in the middle of anything important."

"More important than Sanji bleeding to death?!" Usopp snapped. "I don't think so."

"He's tough. He ain't gonna die from a little blood loss," Nami argued.

"What do you think he's made of?" Usopp groaned, shaking his head.

"He already looks dead to me," Robin sighed.

"Robbie, baby, pull back… Too dark."

"Might I take a look?" Brook offered, leaning over Sanji and Usopp.

Usopp looked from Brook to Nami to Clay before tossing his hands in the air, "Why not?"

"I may have been born at night, but it wasn't last night," Brook said, chortling to himself. "I know a few things about first aid."

"Great!" Usopp breathed in relief.

"The skeleton man is working on Sanji," Chopper whispered, shaking his head. "Who's in charge here?"

"No one. None of us!" Nami barked, pushing herself to her feet. "This is the downfall of civilization." Nami pulled her coppery red hair back into a ponytail. "We can build EMPs and chemical bombs but can't patch up some wounds…"

"I'm sorry; I didn't go to medical school. I went to engineering school…" Franky replied, making a face.

"Then why the hell were you a mechanic?" Nami retorted, shrugging one slender shoulder.

"Because it's hard to get a cushy engineering job with a felony," Franky shot back.

"Don't fight," Clay instructed. "Everyone's just stressed out. We need to remain calm and civil."

"A felony?!" Usopp looked Franky up and down.

Franky leered, "Yeah. A felony. What?"

Usopp shook his head, "Nothing. Nothing…"

"So, what do you think?" Clay asked, leaning over Brook and Sanji expectantly.

Brook shrugged, "Gosh, no idea. He looks bad."

"That was helpful. Thank you," Nami groaned.

"I'm going to go look for blood," Clay announced. "It doesn't matter his blood type if we find O blood."

"Oh my god! Duh!" Nami exclaimed. "Jesus. That's like junior high level science…"

"I'll come with you," Robin said, following after Clay.

"Whoa! Wait a minute…" Usopp panicked. "It's dangerous out there."

Clay nodded, "I'll be careful. And I'll protect her."

"Yeah, you'd better," Franky grunted, handing Robin a bright pink handgun.

"I'll be right back. Wait here," Robin replied with a smile. "And put pressure on the knife wound."

"So where do they store blood in a hospital?" Clay wondered aloud, turning to look at Robin as they walked.

"Well, at the zoo…" Robin trailed off, reading the signs above their heads. "Pathology."

They stepped over dozens of mutilated bodies before they reached pathology. It took several minutes but finally they were able to find the blood bank refrigerators. Clay clapped his hands and knocked his hip against Robin's in celebration, "We did it!"

"There isn't a whole lot," Robin realized. She searched the rummaged-through fridge, pulling the bags of O type blood. "There're six. Think that's enough?"

"Six more than we had earlier," Clay replied. "I bet there're more of these; throughout the hospital." Clay and Robin looked at each other, feeling more confident. "I bet there's blood kept near the operating rooms and such…"

"I bet you're right."

"Let's get this started," Clay decided, grabbing the bags of blood from Robin. He placed them carefully in his jacket, holding the bottom hem tightly. "And then we can look for more…" Clay clicked his tongue. "Of course we need to keep it cool… and…" Clay sighed heavily, "And they expire."

"First things first," Robin insisted. "Sanji." Robin smiled slightly before adding, "And that big idiot Franky if he needs it too."

"I know, right?" Clay chuckled, "How dare he get stabbed?! Like it's all about him…"

"Oh, I know," Robin gasped, shaking back her long black hair. "He wilts without the proper amount of love and attention. I've tried to toughen him up, but…"

"Hands up!"

Robin froze in her tracks, her eyes and mouth wide. She looked from the man who spoke to the one beside him. They were both armed; dressed in camo with dark paint smeared across their skin.

"Ah, hello," Robin said, flashing a beautiful smile. "I was worried. I thought we'd run into bad guys…" Robin turned, smiling reassuringly at Clay. "We were just on our way back to the ER. Our friends are waiting."

"Friends?" the other man muttered, shoving his gun forward menacingly.

"Yeah," Clay said, licking his lips. "Friends."

"What're you doing here?" the first man questioned, taking a cautious step forward.

"One of our friends is hurt," Clay answered.

The man turned, his brows knit together as he scowled, "I was talking to her."

Robin smiled, tight and annoyed, "One of our friends is hurt."

"Is this friend a girl?"

Robin and Clay exchanged looks. Robin held her jaw tight, her eyes dark and angry, "Nope. All big, burly men."

"Loads of 'em," Clay added.

"Get on your knees," the shorter man ordered, gesturing with his rifle to Clay.

"Why?" Clay demanded.

"Get on your knees with your hands behind your head."

"What the hell for?!" Clay growled, pulling himself up to his full, impressive height. "Hell no. You can't just order me around…"

Robin pulled the handgun from the waistband of her shorts. She stepped forward, holding the gun in both hands, "Do not think I won't shoot you."

"Whoaaaa…" the men cackled. The shorter man slapped his leg, stepping closer, "That's a pretty little pink gun you have there."

"Now we're in a Mexican standoff…" Robin murmured, nodding her head in acceptance.

"Hey," Clay hissed, "I don't have a gun…"

"That's what makes it a Mexican standoff," Robin breathed out. "I think."

"Fuck this!" Clay growled. "Fuck outta our way or the lady's gonna shoot your dicks off."

"I was going to aim for the head," Robin replied in amusement, "But that'll work."

"Do you even know how to use th-"

Robin fired a warning shot into the air. The tiles above crumbled, crashing to the ground. Dust and debris filled the room like smoke. Clay grabbed Robin by the arm, pushing her ahead of him. He ushered her out of the pathology lab and into the hall. He shook his head and exhaled heavily, "Pep in your step. Pep in your step."

"That was…"

"The whole world's gone to Hell!"

"But it was kinda exciting!" Robin insisted. "I've really only ever done that at the range."

"I can deal with a little less excitement right now," Clay whispered, pushing Robin around another corner.

"Oh, don't give in so easily," Robin teased. "We still have to figure out how to do a transfusion."

"Sanji's doomed…" Clay decided.

"Hey, you! Stop right there!"

Robin jumped in surprise. Clay reacted quickly, moving to block her from view. He threw up his hands, a sheepish smile on his face. "Ah… hello…"

"Where's Lee and Carter?" A man demanded, stepping forward from the group. He held a shotgun in his arms, blood spatters on his shirt and shoes.

Clay shrugged his broad shoulders, "Who?"

"Wrong answer, asshole!"

Robin let out an involuntary scream as the man fired. The shot gun sprayed, tearing through the walls. Clay knocked into Robin forcefully. Pints of blood cascaded down his abdomen and over his feet to the floor.

The insane spray of blood caused a moment of confusion. Clay used it to his advantage. He shoved Robin into the closest room, locking the door behind him.

"Oh my God… you're bleeding… You've been shot…" Robin realized, shaking her head in disbelief.

Clay nodded, "It's okay, most of it isn't mine." Bullets ripped through the door. Chips of melamine flew through the air. Clay grimaced before turning back to Robin, "Alright, there has to be something useful in here…"

Robin looked around, opening the cupboards, searching for something useful. Clay moved equipment, blocking the shredded door as much as possible. Another bullet struck him, this time in the shoulder. He hunched over, resting against the machinery for a moment.

"I have an idea," Robin whispered, running across the room toward Clay. She grabbed him, hooking her arm around his. "Give me the broken bags…"

Clay unzipped his jacket, handing Robin the damaged packages of blood. Robin purposefully created a trail toward the window. She fired her gun rapidly until the glass shattered.

"Alright," Robin breathed out, running back toward him. "Climb up."

"Up there?" Clay asked, staring up at the small space above the cupboards. "My fat ass will-"

"Move your ass!" Robin hissed quietly. "I don't wanna die right now."

Clay and Robin barely had the chance to lie down before the door was open. The machines were shoved out of the way and the group of men swarmed the room. They opened cupboards and looked under counters. They searched behind curtains and in the bathroom. Finally they followed the trail of blood to the window.

"Damn it." Robin mustered up the courage to lift her head. She spied on the men. They stared out the broken window, their guns clasped tightly in their hands. One of the men kicked the wall roughly, "They're gone."

Suddenly the men pushed backward, winding like a coiling snake. They then scattered, turning and running in terror. Robin braved it; she sat up in surprise watching as a horde of zombies spilled in through the smashed window. They were close and fast. And the men weren't able to fire fast enough.

Most of the men simply ran. They abandoned the group and bolted down the hallway. The men who stayed were on their knees, quickly overpowered by the zombies. The men's screams could barely be heard over the bloodthirsty shrieking. And then everything was quiet. The zombies shuffled out of the room and down the hall, leaving carnage in their wake.

Clay inhaled sharply, holding his bleeding wounds. He let go of his body, practically collapsing on the top of the cupboards. He looked up at Robin and shook his head, "Crazy lady, now we have zombies to worry about…"

Robin shrugged, "Better than maniacs with guns."

"Is it?" Clay wondered, watching Robin as she climbed down from on top of the cupboards. Robin assisted Clay as much as possible. She tried to ignore the insane amount of blood pouring from Clay. It's not all his, she reminded herself. She tried to keep her face neutral but Clay could tell, he asked, "Do I look that bad or do you just have resting bitch face?"

"Both, maybe," Robin sighed, wrapping her arm around Clay in a protective manner. "Let's get back to the others."

"Just carry me," Clay groaned teasingly.

Robin laughed softly, "Sure thing."

But when Robin looked up into Clay's face he wasn't smiling. His face was tight and drawn and his eyes moved rapidly from side to side. All he managed to say was, "Oh shit."

He shoved her roughly, knocking her to the ground. She slid across the tiled floor, smacking forcefully into the desk of the nurses station. She grunted and struggled to right herself.

Two stocky dogs lunged at Clay. They ripped at his clothes and skin, his jacket falling in shreds to the floor. Clay struggled valiantly, he grabbed one of the dogs around the neck, pinning their bodies together. He held the second dog, hooking his bleeding hand around the muzzle. He laughed bravely, pained and terrified, and he shook his head, "Run, Robin…"

Robin climbed to her feet, "I'm not running. I'm a zookeeper for fuck's sake…" Suddenly several men in black uniforms and armor poured into the hallway. They raised their rifles. Robin screamed out, "Clay…!"

"If you shoot me you'll hit your dogs," Clay warned, still wrestling with the ferocious canines.

"Neither are the assets," one of the men clarified, gesturing to Robin and Clay. "All clear."

Another solider clicked off his safety, lifting his rifle to his shoulder, "All clear."

And then, all at once, several people fired. The walls and desks exploded, pieces of them flying everywhere. The dogs cried out and Clay felt them release their hold on him. Robin screamed as a bullet tore through her. She looked from Clay to the opposite hall, to temporary safety. Clay nodded knowingly. Robin licked her lips, her heart sinking into her belly. And she turned, running as fast as she could away from the massacre.