Zombie Jamboree
Hinata scrubbed a grubby hand across her eyes and cracked her jaw on a yawn. She was on a dry island in the lobby It was a gaming table once)with a blank scroll spread out in front of her knees. She was making rapid notes and tallies next to a careful sketch of what appeared to be a trap door. By her knee was a small stack of notes; all that was left of her exploding arsenal unless she went back home.
No matter how many times she worked the numbers, or how many times she squinted at her notes, she kept coming to the same depressing conclusion: she wasn't enough. Hinata wasn't equipped, or trained, well enough to handle what she'd seen. She needed help, and she couldn't bring her team in. Their abilities relied a great deal on eating or biting, and she wouldn't allow them to risk infection from the nastier dead she'd seen.
That left the people in the hotel. Specifically the adults.
She was keeping an eye out as she reworked her notes. She had to recruit them!
No matter how many times she worked the numbers, or how many times she squinted at her notes, she kept coming to the same depressing conclusion: she wasn't enough. Hinata wasn't equipped, or trained, well enough to handle what she'd seen. She needed help, and she couldn't bring her team in. Their abilities relied a great deal on eating or biting, and she wouldn't allow them to risk infection from the nastier dead she'd seen.
That left the people in the hotel. Specifically the adults.
She was keeping an eye out as she reworked her notes. She had to recruit them!