POV: Jenna
The forest had turned into a writhing nightmare. Vines snapped out of the ground like live wires, snatching up anything with a pulse—or whatever zombies had in place of one. Carl fought off a particularly aggressive root trying to curl around his leg, cursing under his breath.
"Jenna, could you—oh for crying out loud, stop looking at the plants!" Carl barked, his patience wearing thin.
Jenna was, predictably, more fascinated by the new mutation than concerned about the immediate danger. She eyed a thick vine with an almost academic curiosity, dodging it at the last second when it lashed out at her. "I mean, we could store some of this stuff. Maybe we can use it later?"
"Or maybe it'll strangle us while we sleep!" Carl snapped, cutting through another vine that slithered too close.
The zombie gang, in their usual clumsy fashion, seemed more of a hazard than a help, stumbling into traps set by the forest's roots. Jenna sighed—these guys weren't exactly battle-hardened soldiers. They were barely coordinated enough to walk in a straight line.
"Come on, Carl, think about it!" Jenna insisted, shifting from one foot to the other to avoid a creeping vine. "We're already hoarding supplies. What's a few killer plants?"
"Can we survive first, then hoard later?" Carl's voice was strained, his sword flashing in the dying light as he hacked at the foliage.
Despite the chaos, Jenna couldn't help but laugh. Carl, for all his competence, was wound up tighter than the vines around them. But she knew when to stop pushing his buttons—barely.
As they finally reached the clearing, Jenna stole a glance back. Her smile vanished as a massive tree-like creature rose from the ground, its bark-like skin cracking as glowing green eyes locked onto them.
"We've got a bigger problem," she muttered, her voice dropping.
Carl followed her gaze, and for a moment, there was only silence between them, broken by the distant groans of her zombie gang.