The sun cast long, jagged shadows across the desolate streets as the group trudged onward. After their narrow escape from the diner, tension hung in the air like a storm cloud. Mallory walked at the rear of the group, her wrench tucked into her belt and Blinky perched dutifully on her shoulder. Scraps, ever the loyal canine companion, padded alongside her, his mismatched eyes constantly scanning for danger.
Altair's tablet beeped faintly, drawing everyone's attention. He stopped and frowned at the screen, his brow furrowing as he deciphered the data.
"What's it saying?" Kaelyn asked, her voice clipped.
"There's movement ahead," Altair replied. "It's not zombies, though. The heat signatures are too organized."
"Raiders again?" Vanessa groaned, gripping her blade tightly.
"Maybe," Altair said. "Or something else. It's hard to tell."
"Let's hope it's a group of traveling comedians," Mallory said dryly. "I could use a laugh right about now."
