The teenagers were still strong and alert. Centuries of experience and lost accomplices had taught Vlad to be more conservative than a Texas Republican. A smashed wooden shed means a sharp wooden stake at hand, pretty much anywhere you put your hand down. Vlad retreated to a nearby roof to watch.

The teens, two boys and a girl, apparently a cheerleader, were obviously puzzled by the dismembered zombies around the shed. One boy was bleeding from his arm, inside of his left bicep. Dangerous. Vlad watched him apply a tourniquet and attempt to clean the blood off. It was essentially porn, for Vlad. Human blood practically glowed in his vision. But the resolution of his eyes was no better than the human he had once been, so when the teens grabbed primitive weapons from the shed and began to slowly work their way downstream following the brook, he had to follow closely to track them. The teens disappeared behind the corner of the building. Vlad swept down from the roof.