POV: Rick
Rick stood between Jenna and the patrol, tension crackling in the air like static. He kept his tone measured, his body language non-threatening, but his mind was racing.
"We've been tracking what's been happening underground," Rick began, locking eyes with the wiry woman who seemed to be the leader. "The tremors, the glowing veins, the mutated creatures. It's all connected to a stone—a kind of artifact buried beneath the surface."
The woman frowned but didn't lower her weapon. "And you destroyed this stone?"
Rick hesitated. "We shattered it. But the energy it released—it's still active."
"Convenient," the burly man sneered. "So you're saying you didn't fix anything."
"Not entirely," Rick admitted. "But we stopped it from spreading—for now."
---
POV: Jenna
Jenna couldn't resist chiming in, her voice light despite the tension. "Yeah, we did the hard part. You're welcome, by the way."
The burly man rounded on her, his shotgun raising an inch. "You're lucky we haven't put a bullet in your head, zombie."
Jenna raised her hands, her grin unwavering. "And here I thought we were bonding."
"Jenna," Carl said sharply, stepping slightly in front of her. "Not the time."
"Right, right," Jenna said, waving a hand. "Serious talk. Got it."
---
POV: Sarah
Sarah's grip on her crowbar tightened as she scanned the patrol. Their nerves were obvious—twitching fingers, darting eyes—but so was their discipline. These weren't desperate scavengers. They were trained, organized, and ready for a fight.
"Why would you care about some underground rock?" the wiry woman asked, her tone sharp. "What's in it for you?"
"Survival," Sarah said bluntly. "The mutations are getting worse. The creatures we're fighting now—they're nothing compared to what's coming if we don't stop this."
The woman's eyes narrowed. "What makes you so sure?"
"Because we've seen it," Sarah replied, her voice steady. "And we're still alive to warn you."
---
POV: Jenna
Jenna stepped forward, ignoring the shotgun aimed at her. "Look, I know you don't trust us. Especially me. I get it—I'm dead, I have glowing zombie friends, and I'm probably not what you expected when you woke up this morning."
The wiry woman's lips twitched, though she didn't smile. "You could say that."
"But here's the thing," Jenna continued, her tone earnest. "I'm on your side. I don't want to eat your brains or raid your base or whatever it is you think zombies do. I just want to stop this apocalypse from getting any worse."
"And we're supposed to believe that?" the burly man snapped.
"Well," Jenna said, her grin returning. "The fact that I haven't eaten you yet is a pretty good sign, don't you think?"
---
POV: Carl
Carl glanced at the patrol, their hesitation evident. He knew Jenna's humor was disarming, but it wasn't enough to erase their fear. "She's telling the truth," Carl said, his voice calm but firm. "Jenna's different. And whether you like it or not, we're all fighting the same enemy."
The wiry woman studied Carl for a long moment, then lowered her weapon slightly. "You're serious about this."
Carl nodded. "Completely."
---
POV: Rick
Rick let out a slow breath, sensing the tension ease slightly. "We don't want trouble," he said. "We're just looking for allies. If we can share what we know—what we've seen—it might help all of us survive."
The wiry woman exchanged a glance with the burly man, then nodded. "Alright. We'll hear you out. But if you try anything…"
Rick raised his hands. "We won't."
---
POV: Jenna
Jenna leaned closer to Carl, her voice a mock whisper. "Hey, look at that. They don't totally hate us."
Carl sighed. "Don't push it."
Jenna grinned, stepping back as the patrol motioned for them to follow. "Relax, Carl. I'm a zombie of my word."
---
POV: Sarah
As the group followed the patrol, Sarah couldn't shake the unease prickling at the back of her mind. The humans might be willing to talk for now, but trust was a fragile thing. One wrong move, and this fragile alliance could shatter.
"Let's hope this doesn't backfire," she muttered under her breath.
---
POV: The Patrol Leader
The wiry woman, now walking at the front, glanced back at the mismatched group following them. She still didn't trust them—especially the undead girl with the glowing eyes and infuriating grin. But there was something about their story that struck a chord.
If they're lying, we'll deal with them, she thought grimly. But if they're telling the truth… we'll need them more than they need us.