"<What are you doing here?>" 

Isam had been asleep for a couple hours by the time Omar found him. He was still sprawled out on the couch, his face buried in a cushion. He turned to look up at his friend, blinking a couple times. 

"<Sleeping.>"

Omar smiled and gave a half laugh. He and Isam had been through a lot together, and he considered Isam to be his best friend. He honestly didn't mind the man coming in to sleep on his couch. He'd gotten used to Isam and his strange quirks over the years. 
"<I'm sure you have a bed at home to sleep in,>" He said offhandedly as he passed into the kitchen. Omar had a basket in his hand, which he set on the kitchen table. He plopped down in one of the old, wooden chair and began to hum as he picked around in his basket, removing a large, green pod from it. Omar made a few cuts along the plant pod, causing white cream to ooze out.

Isam looked up from the couch to watch, mildly curious. 
"<You harvested your poppies?>" He asked, watching as Omar let the white sap leak into a bowl. 
"<One of the nurses came over to tell me that they were running low on pain killers. Something must have happened; a lot of people were hurt.>"

Omar was a simple man. He farmed and he grew his plants. He lived peacefully inside his little community, hardly speaking any English, but always willing to help those who came to him. He had a good heart. But, as far as Isam understood, he hadn't always been that way. Where Omar came from, greed was a requirement for life. He had stepped on plenty of toes to get where he was. 

"<There was an attack. A man was brought in from the desert, and something he said has led the others to believe that the undead coming here was no accident. You may want to ration those drugs; we may need more soon.>"

The drug business in Afghanistan had been one of the few that continued to thrive. In a country like theirs, life didn't stop because of the world ended. Hell, in a country like theirs, a bomb being dropped here and there was common place. The world ended and hardly anyone noticed. Life went on. The ancient nation hadn't survived so long just to die along with the rest of the world. 

Omar had grown up on a farm, his father having been very involved with the drug cartels around the area. Marijuana and opium grew in fields like corn, and people would do just about anything to get their hands on it. Omar learned how to grow, harvest, smuggle, and sell his plants. When he father died, he inherited the business. He became powerful, dangerous even. It was hard for Isam to imagine his sweet and patient friend ever having been a villain. 

Omar had heard about the ship leaving for the promise land, and he had the money to buy his way onto it. Once hardship came, Omar's true colors began to show again. He wasn't a bad man. Once he was removed from the drug business, he began to see what it had done to him. He held on to the seeds of his plants over the years, and when he got to the promise lands, he planted them with his only intentions being to make good use of his skills. Medicine was hard to come across, so making it was sometimes the best option. 

Isam began to nod off again by the time Omar had a full bowl of poppy sap. Omar poured his collecting into a bottle and capped it. He got up and dumped the empty pods in the trash before heading out the door. He paused to make sure the gate to his 'special' gardens were shut and locked before walking down the street towards the medical center. Omar loved people, but he didn't trust them very much. His poppies and marijuana plants were kept under secret lock and key, the ensure that other residents didn't misuse them. Omar was in the business to make medicine, not to supply people with recreational drugs.

Omar reached the medical center just as the doctor, he didn't know the man's name, and their leader, who was called the Mother from what he understood, arrived. A couple nurses rushed around, getting things set up to treat the injured. Omar reached out to grab the sleeve of one of them just as she hurried by, and handed her the bottle of sap. 
"Medicine," He said, his accent very thick. Most people who worked at the center knew him, and knew that he supplied them with their painkillers. They also knew that he didn't speak much English, and to keep their conversations short and simple. 

The nurse nodded. "Thank you," She said, taking the bottle to Tobias. He would know what to do with it. Omar hung back as the nurses got another bed ready, curiosity getting the best of him. He may not have understood a word any of them said, but he still cared about them. If the Mother was hurt, they were all in trouble. 

(Just to make it clear the little < and > symbols mean they are not speaking English)