For newbies, their sneaking skills weren’t bad.

  Weren’t good either.

  But they got inside the plaza. Made it into the tents. No instant deaths, no loud screaming. So... points for not failing the stealth tutorial.

  They looted differently.

  Harun and I expected teamwork. Maybe one watches while the other grabs supplies. Y’know, normal apocalypse logic.

  Nope. They split like a bad marriage.

  Max was... interesting. Not in the good way. He rummaged loud, knocked over a basket, tripped on a crate, and attracted a zombie like a moth to a disco light. Then he started poking at it with his butterfly knife. Quick little jabs. Then retreating. Then poking again. Rinse and repeat.

  It was slow. Painfully slow. But he didn’t die, and the zombie did.

  So hey. Functional chaos.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Nora, on the other hand? Quiet. Steady. Walked up to the nearest normal and wham. One solid hit with the wrench. Dropped it. Then finished the job with a slam that made me wince.

  Only then did she start looting.

  Different philosophies.

  Max gathered a small audience. Three normals started closing in on him.

  Harun tensed beside me. Ready to jump in.

  I held a hand out.

  "Not yet."

  I bolted toward Max.

  Didn’t say a word. Just ran, slid under a market table, and swung Ol' Reliable 2 hard enough to slice ankles. Two zombies staggered.

  I grabbed a plastic chair and hucked it like I was in a WWE promo. It smashed the two clean off its balance.

  Then I walked up and swung twice. Heads gone. Simple math.

  Max stared. Still stepping back. One zombie left.

  He looked at me, wide-eyed. That "please fix this" look.

  I gave him a nod.

  "You got this."

  He blinked. Nodded. And ran at it.

  He tried to mimic me. The table slide.

  It did not go well.

  Smacked his head mid-slide. Wobbled like a cartoon. Nearly faceplanted.

  E for effort.

  Still, he rallied. Grabbed the table, flipped it up, and slammed it over the zombie. Pinned it underneath.

  Then climbed on top and stabbed it. Over and over. Quick, aggressive, messy. Finally using his weight for something other than carrying guilt.

  If Gail was a tank, Max was a hatchback. Big-ish, clumsy, but had surprising torque once you figured out the pedals.

  Once it stopped moving, I gave him a thumbs-up.

  He looked like he just passed his driving test.

  I turned my attention to Nora.

  She had one on her tail. Walking backwards calmly. Letting it close in.

  Then... smash.

  Timed it perfectly. Knocked it down. And waited. Stepped around it. Swung again. Done.

  If Max was DPS by spam, Nora was a sniper with a wrench. Distance, timing, control.

  I had to admit...

  They were better than I was when I first started.

  That didn’t make me trust them.

  But it did make me curious.

  ---

  Tomorrow, we test something else.

  Maybe their instincts.

  Or their ability to follow orders.

  Or whether they snore.

  Y'know. The essentials.