POV: Jenna
Jenna led the group out of camp with the confidence of someone who had just invented scavenging, despite it being a standard survival tactic. She had her trusty crowbar in hand, her zombie gang shambling along behind her like a mismatched entourage. Carl followed close by, his sword at the ready and his expression teetering between amusement and dread.
"So," Jenna began, spinning her crowbar like a baton, "here's the plan. We find the nearest abandoned warehouse or grocery store, and we loot it."
Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. "You mean the thing we've been doing since day one?"
Jenna grinned. "Exactly. But better."
"How, exactly, is this better?" Carl asked, his voice dry.
"Because I'm leading it," Jenna replied with a wink. "And we've got my gang. They're like pack mules, but scarier."
One of her zombies let out a low groan, as if protesting the comparison.
"Relax, buddy," Jenna said, patting the zombie on the shoulder. "It's a compliment."
---
POV: Theo
From the rear of the group, Theo watched Jenna with barely contained disdain. She treated the apocalypse like a field trip, and somehow, people followed her. Even Carl, who should have known better, seemed to tolerate her antics.
"This is ridiculous," Theo muttered to himself.
"Something wrong?" Kane's smooth voice cut through his thoughts.
Theo glanced over to see Kane walking beside him, his expression calm and unreadable.
"You know what's wrong," Theo snapped. "This entire mission is a joke."
Kane smiled faintly. "Perhaps. But sometimes, even a joke can serve a purpose."
Theo frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Kane's smile widened slightly. "Patience, Theo. All will be revealed in time."
---
POV: Carl
As the group approached a crumbling convenience store, Carl felt his instincts prickling. The place looked untouched, which immediately made him suspicious. In this world, untouched meant trouble.
"Jenna," he called, his voice low. "Something doesn't feel right."
Jenna, who had been peering through the dusty windows, turned to him with a grin. "You're always so paranoid. What's the worst that could happen?"
Carl opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, one of Jenna's zombies stepped on a loose plank. The resulting crack echoed through the air like a gunshot.
Carl sighed. "That."
The groan of mutated creatures answered the sound, growing louder by the second. Carl drew his sword, his body tensing. "We've got company."
---
POV: Jenna
Jenna froze as the first mutant appeared—a hulking wolf-like creature with glowing red eyes and patches of moss growing from its fur. It growled low in its throat, its sharp teeth bared as it stalked toward the group.
"Oh, great," Jenna muttered, raising her crowbar. "Nature's gone rogue again."
Carl stepped in front of her, his sword gleaming in the dim light. "Stay behind me."
Jenna huffed. "I'm perfectly capable of fighting, thank you very much."
"Yeah, I've seen your fighting," Carl said dryly. "You hit things and hope for the best."
"It's called strategy," Jenna shot back, but she stepped back nonetheless.
The wolf lunged, its massive claws slashing through the air. Carl met it head-on, his sword flashing in a precise arc that struck the creature's shoulder. The wolf howled in pain but didn't back down.
Meanwhile, Jenna's zombie gang sprang into action—or, rather, lumbered into action. One of them tried to tackle the wolf but ended up tripping over a pile of debris instead.
"Solid effort, guys," Jenna muttered, swinging her crowbar at a second wolf that appeared from the shadows. She managed to land a hit on its snout, sending it stumbling back with a whimper.
"Not bad," Carl called, his voice strained as he parried another attack.
"Thank you," Jenna replied, her tone smug. "I'll be taking that as a compliment."
---
POV: Rick
Rick and the others were holding their own against the onslaught, but it was clear this wasn't a normal scavenging mission. The wolves were too coordinated, too aggressive. It was almost as if they were being directed.
"Something's not right here," Rick said, driving his knife into one of the creatures.
Sarah, who was fighting beside him, nodded. "They're moving like a pack. Someone—or something—is controlling them."
Rick's eyes flicked to Kane, who was hanging back, watching the chaos with an unsettlingly calm expression. For a moment, Rick wondered if Kane had something to do with this.
"We'll deal with that later," Rick muttered, focusing on the fight.
---
POV: Kane
Kane observed the battle with mild interest, his arms crossed as he leaned against a broken lamppost. The wolves were impressive, but not invincible. Jenna's group was holding their own, though barely.
He watched as Jenna swung her crowbar with surprising precision, managing to fend off a particularly aggressive wolf. Despite her quirks, she had a certain tenacity that was hard to ignore.
"Interesting," Kane murmured to himself. "Very interesting."
---
POV: Jenna
By the time the last wolf fell, Jenna was out of breath but victorious. She planted her crowbar in the ground like a flag, grinning at Carl.
"Well," she said, "that was fun."
Carl raised an eyebrow. "You have a weird definition of fun."
Jenna shrugged. "Survival is what you make of it."
She glanced around at the group, who were all looking worse for wear but alive. Even Theo, who had spent most of the fight glaring at her, looked impressed—though he'd never admit it.
"See?" Jenna said, addressing the group. "Told you this would be productive."
Rick sighed, wiping blood off his knife. "Let's just get the supplies and get out of here."
Jenna grinned, already heading for the store. "Now you're talking my language."