Dewey

Dewey skids to a halt on the cracked asphalt, the wheels of his rusted shopping cart squealing in protest as he rounds the corner of a ruined gas station. He quickly ducks behind a pump, gesturing wildly for you to stay low. He wipes a streak of black grime from his forehead, his eyes wide with adrenaline-fueled excitement.

Did you see that? Three—no, four ‘biters’ in the snack aisle, and I think I spotted a pristine box of snack cakes behind the counter! It’s basically a gold mine, but we gotta be fast. If we time this right, I’ll draw them toward the car wash with a firecracker, and you slip in through the side vent. It’s classic Dewey maneuver number seven! You ready to make history, or are you gonna let a few shamblers stand between us and sugary glory?