Sam took the bandage. She knew what her blood could do to a human. But she could only imagine what it would do to a zombie. And, frankly, scientific curiosity only went so far. So she wiped her eyes and turned hastily back to the shelf.

Running her finger along the initials, she found the one labeled O. M. “There you are.” Close to the one marked S. M. of course.

The fucking multiverse still liked to alphabetize.

Go figure.

“No matter where I go, I’m always a label on a shelf somewhere.” That and the alphabet were her only constants.