Jenna shuffled down the street, her brain still a bit foggy, like she was stuck in a permanent Monday morning haze. Now and then, she would stop, distracted by something shiny—a tin can, a broken mirror—before remembering, "Oh yeah, I'm a zombie now." One thing was clear: she needed supplies. Snacks, mostly. Maybe some shoes.
That's when she spotted them—three zombies clustered around a fallen snack truck, groaning loudly in frustration. One of them, a huge guy in a torn business suit, was slamming his hands against the truck door as it owed him money. Another, a woman with half her face missing, was awkwardly trying to pull at the door handle, but it was clear her coordination wasn't what it used to be.
Jenna groaned in greeting. "Uh…g-graaaahhh?"
The zombies turned to face her, their groans echoing like a really bad choir. She blinked. How was she supposed to communicate with these guys? She waved awkwardly, trying to seem friendly. "H-hello? Grrrrrooo… snacks?"
The big guy groaned, pointing at the truck with a dramatic wave of his arm. "Right!" Jenna assumed that meant "help."
"Okay, okay, I got this," Jenna muttered, stepping closer to the truck. She focused her zombie brain on the task. "Truck…into…space." She tapped the side of the truck with her hand, and with a slow blink, the entire thing disappeared into her personal pocket dimension.
The zombies blinked back at her, their groaning shifting into a strange chorus of what sounded like awe. One of them, the woman missing half her face, groaned extra loudly, maybe trying to say "How did you do that?" but it came out more like "Raaaaah?"
"Ta-da!" Jenna said, doing jazz hands, proud of her space ability. She reached into her space and pulled out a random assortment of snacks. "Look! Chips! Ahem… grrrr…chips," she corrected, waving the bag in front of them.
The zombies stared blankly at the snacks. The big guy groaned again, slower this time like he was trying to form a sentence. "Raaaaghh… chiiiipssss?"
"Yeah! Chips!" Jenna said excitedly, throwing the bag toward him. It hit his chest and fell to the ground, but he seemed to appreciate the effort, bending down to pick it up as slowly as a zombie could.
Feeling victorious, Jenna rummaged through her newly hoarded supplies. Inside her space, she had collected all sorts of goodies from the truck: packs of chips, canned goods (beans and soup), boxes of cookies, and some bottled water. She also grabbed a couple of stray kitchen items—a spatula, some plastic forks—and, for reasons she couldn't quite explain, a pair of fuzzy slippers she found stuffed under the driver's seat. *Perfect for zombie lounging,* she thought.
"Okay, team," Jenna said, turning to her new undead companions, trying to sound like a leader. "We need more supplies. More snacks. More… stuff." She pointed down the street toward a grocery store. "Fooooood?"
The big zombie groaned in agreement. The other two joined in, their collective groans sounding more like a broken air conditioner than an organized response.
"Let's go!" Jenna shouted—or, tried to, but it came out more like "Graaaaah!" as her brain still struggled with being stuck between words and zombie noises. She motioned for them to follow her, pointing to the grocery store again. Slowly, they lumbered forward, their groaning chorus rising and falling as they followed her down the street.
As they reached the store, Jenna eyed the entrance, now boarded up. No problem for a zombie with space powers, right? She grinned, zombie-style, then blinked and focused. A moment later, the doors vanished into her space, leaving the store wide open. The zombies groaned excitedly, or at least she thought it was excitement.
"Alright, let's grab everything!" Jenna groaned to the best of her ability, gesturing wildly. "Hoard!"
The other zombies groaned back, still moving at a snail's pace, but they seemed to get the idea. One of them grabbed a bag of rice and dropped it, while the big guy tried and failed to pick up a giant tub of peanut butter. Jenna sighed. *This was going to be a long apocalypse.*