POV: Rick
The group trudged back to camp, their faces heavy with exhaustion. The scouting mission hadn't gone as planned. No answers, no leads—just more questions and another close call with a mutant pack.
"We can't keep doing this," Rick said, his voice cutting through the silence. "We're spinning our wheels."
Carl walked beside him, his sword resting on his shoulder. "What did you expect? Answers written on a signpost?"
Rick shot him a glare but didn't respond. He was too tired to argue, and Carl wasn't wrong. Every step forward seemed to lead them further into the dark.
"What about Jenna?" Sarah asked, her voice hesitant. "She might've found something while we were gone."
Rick sighed. "If she didn't burn the camp down in the process, we'll call it a win."
---
POV: Jenna
Jenna was mid-negotiation with one of her zombies when Rick and his group returned. She was holding a slightly crushed soda can in one hand and gesturing wildly with the other.
"Listen," she said to the groaning zombie. "This isn't just any soda can—it's a relic. It adds character to the hoard."
The zombie growled in response, tilting its head.
"You get it," Jenna said, nodding in approval. "You've got an eye for quality."
Rick cleared his throat, and Jenna turned to see the group staring at her, their expressions ranging from confusion to exasperation.
"Oh, hey!" Jenna said, waving. "You're back. How was the thrilling world of scouting?"
Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me you didn't destroy anything while we were gone."
"Define 'destroy,'" Jenna said, grinning.
---
POV: Carl
Carl couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at his lips. Jenna's antics were as frustrating as they were entertaining. "What did you actually do while we were gone?" he asked.
Jenna gestured to her zombie gang, who were now sitting in a circle, growling softly to each other. "Team-building exercises. We're bonding."
"Right," Carl said, his tone flat. "And the soda can?"
"It's a centerpiece," Jenna replied matter-of-factly.
Carl shook his head. "Unbelievable."
---
POV: Kane
Kane observed the group from his usual vantage point, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. Jenna's chaos was a constant, but it was the group's dynamic that intrigued him most. Despite their differences—and their frequent bickering—they worked. Somehow.
"They're holding together," Theo muttered, his tone grudgingly impressed.
"For now," Kane replied, his gaze lingering on Rick. "But cracks are forming."
Theo frowned. "What's the plan?"
"Patience," Kane said, smiling faintly. "Let them unravel themselves."
---
POV: Jenna
Jenna plopped down on a crate near the campfire, her crowbar resting across her lap. "So," she said, looking at Rick. "What's the plan, fearless leader? Or are we just winging it as usual?"
Rick glared at her. "We need to regroup. There's too much we don't know, and every fight is costing us."
Jenna leaned back, balancing the crowbar on her knees. "Sounds like you're admitting we're in over our heads."
"We are," Rick said bluntly. "But that doesn't mean we give up."
Carl nodded. "We need a new strategy. Something proactive."
Jenna's eyes lit up. "Ooh, I've got an idea! Let's set a trap. Lure one of those big glowing nasties here and study it."
The group stared at her, stunned into silence.
"Jenna," Rick said slowly. "That might be the worst idea you've ever had."
"Or the best," Jenna countered, grinning. "Think about it. We could learn so much!"
Sarah groaned. "Learn how to die faster, maybe."
---
POV: Rick
Rick rubbed his temples, already feeling the beginnings of a headache. "We'll table that idea for now."
"Fine," Jenna said, pouting. "But don't come crying to me when my genius goes unappreciated."
Rick ignored her, turning his attention back to the group. "For now, we focus on defense. Fortify the camp, gather supplies, and keep an eye out for anything unusual."
"Define 'unusual,'" Jenna said, smirking.
Rick glared at her. "You'll know it when you see it."
---
POV: Kane
Kane leaned back against the tree, his smile widening. The group was floundering, their frustration growing with every setback. It wouldn't take much to push them over the edge.
"Time to add a little pressure," he murmured to himself.