With the temporary alliance in place, Carl wasted no time getting the zombie gangs organized. He stood before them, trying to keep a firm hold on his patience. Jenna and her gang stood on one side, while Rook and his zombies loitered lazily on the other.
"Listen up!" Carl barked, pacing in front of the ragtag group. "We need to work together if we want to survive. These mutated creatures are not your typical humans. They're faster, stronger, and more dangerous than anything we've faced before."
Rook, arms crossed and a skeptical smirk on his face, wasn't convinced. "We're already surviving."
Carl shot him a glare. "Barely. You almost ran straight into a pack of wolves last night."
"That was strategic retreat," Rook muttered under his breath, while some of his gang grunted in agreement.
Carl rubbed his temples. This was going to be harder than he thought. On the opposite side, Jenna seemed oblivious to the seriousness of the situation. She was digging around in her space, pulling out random objects and inspecting them.
"Jenna, what are you doing?" Carl asked, his voice exasperated.
Jenna held up a toaster proudly. "Do you think the wolves would like toast?"
Carl's eye twitched. "Jenna, we're not weaponizing kitchen appliances."
Jenna frowned. "Not even as a backup plan?"
"No!"
As Carl turned to continue his briefing, Jenna leaned toward one of her zombies, who had found an old shoe and was gnawing on it. "He's probably just hangry," she whispered, causing the zombie to grunt in response.
Carl sighed. This was going to be a long day.