POV: Jenna
Jenna was elbow-deep in an old filing cabinet, tugging at a particularly stubborn drawer that had long since rusted shut. She grunted, giving it a final yank, and stumbled back as the drawer flew open. Inside was a tangled mess of papers, broken pens, and—her eyes lit up—a pristine roll of masking tape.
"Oh, come to mama," she whispered, snatching the roll and inspecting it like a jeweler examining a diamond. "This is going straight to the VIP section."
Her zombie gang groaned softly from their corner of the abandoned office building, their empty eyes following her every move. Jenna glanced over at them and grinned. "You guys don't get it, but this is peak apocalypse currency."
One of the zombies tilted its head, letting out a low, questioning groan.
"Okay, sure, it's just tape to you," Jenna said, stuffing the roll into her spatial space. "But wait until someone needs to patch a tent or, I don't know, tie up a rogue human. Then we'll see who's laughing."
---
POV: Carl
Carl leaned against the doorway, watching Jenna with a mix of amusement and disbelief. She was the only person he knew who could get genuinely excited about masking tape in the middle of an apocalypse.
"You know," he said, crossing his arms, "sometimes I wonder how I got here. Following a hoarding zombie who thinks tape is the key to survival."
Jenna turned, holding up a hand dramatically. "First of all, it's not just tape. It's a strategic asset. Second, you're here because deep down, you know I'm right."
Carl smirked. "Right about what?"
"Everything," Jenna replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She tossed him a random stapler from the pile beside her. "Here. Add that to your arsenal."
Carl caught the stapler, his smirk widening. "You're unbelievable."
"And yet, here you are," Jenna teased, rummaging through another drawer. "Don't act like you don't enjoy it."
---
POV: Rick
Rick paced near the edge of the camp, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. The alliance was hanging by a thread, and Theo's paranoia wasn't helping. Every time Rick tried to mediate, Theo found a new way to stir up trouble.
He glanced over at Jenna and Carl, who had just returned from their scavenging trip. Jenna was animatedly explaining something to Carl, waving her hands and laughing. Rick sighed. Whatever their dynamic was, it seemed to be working. Maybe too well.
"Rick," Sarah's voice pulled him from his thoughts. She approached with her usual no-nonsense expression, holding a clipboard that Jenna had likely scavenged. "We've got a problem."
"What else is new?" Rick muttered. "What's the issue?"
"It's Theo," Sarah said, lowering her voice. "He's talking to Kane again. I think he's planning something."
Rick clenched his jaw. "Of course, he is."
"We need to do something before this blows up," Sarah urged. "If he pushes too hard, the zombies might retaliate."
Rick nodded grimly. "I know. But if we act without proof, we'll just make things worse."
Sarah frowned but didn't argue. She knew Rick was right, but that didn't make the situation any less dangerous.
---
POV: Kane
Kane watched the camp from a distance, his expression calm and calculating. Theo was proving to be a useful tool, but even tools had their limits. If Theo pushed too far, he risked breaking the fragile alliance entirely—and Kane wasn't ready for that just yet.
Patience, Kane reminded himself. Everything in its time.
He turned his attention to Jenna, who was now showing Carl what appeared to be a collection of mismatched screws. She was an enigma, a chaotic force of nature that seemed immune to the usual rules of the apocalypse. And that made her both fascinating and dangerous.
"Let's see how long you can keep this up," Kane murmured to himself, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
---
POV: Jenna
Jenna flopped onto a pile of rubble near the campfire, her arms full of random finds from the day's scavenging. She dropped them unceremoniously in front of Rick, grinning as she presented her haul.
"Behold! The fruits of my labor," she declared, gesturing dramatically.
Rick stared at the pile, which included a half-empty can of spray paint, a broken pair of sunglasses, and a single glove. "Jenna, what is this?"
"Survival essentials," she replied without missing a beat. "You're welcome."
Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. "We need food, Jenna. Medical supplies. Not… whatever this is."
"Hey, don't underestimate the power of spray paint," Jenna said, picking up the can and shaking it. "Marking territory, leaving messages, distracting mutants—it's versatile!"
Rick groaned, but Sarah chuckled beside him. "She's not wrong," Sarah admitted. "It's… creative."
Jenna beamed. "See? Sarah gets it."
Rick sighed, waving her off. "Fine. Just—try to focus on the essentials next time, okay?"
"Always," Jenna said with a mock salute, already planning her next scavenging spree.