[h3][hr][color=#A67846]Kenny Sokoloski[/color][/h3][hr][sup]Rushford: Jenkin’s Diner  ||  May 7th[/sup][center][indent] [/indent][/center]
Katie’s mention of the rooftop sounded like a good idea to Kenny. Conceptualizing the softball field from a bird’s eye view was something she’d done often, so she was partial to making strategies from vantage points. There were few safer ways to get a clearer grasp of their situation, and she was glad when Karen agreed. 

The supplies Lena brought up,  however, were overshadowed by her truck, even if Kenny knew a truck was nowhere near the answer to their problems. Besides the obvious gas shortage, a truck would struggle to fit three people, much less eight, and riding in the back was hardly an option at the moment. Still, a car was the safest mobile option they had, and it’d be another ace up their sleeve when they found a use for it.

[color=#A67846]“I’d like to volunteer to go as well,”[/color] Kenny said after Lena, glancing at the woman who’d volunteered first before looking around at the group. They were older than her, but she was fast, and that counted for something. As for the sick, dead, or otherwise zombie-seeming figures stumbling around outside, she’d gotten this far, and someone had to go. 

A ding from the toaster oven drew her attention, and she headed over, sliding the biscuits out onto a plate and grabbing some silverware before returning to the counter. [color=#A67846]“Biscuits are done,”[/color] she said, setting the plate down and glancing behind to where Katie stood in front of the stove. Breakfast was coming together nicely.

[color=#A67846]“Anyone want honey or jam for their biscuits?”[/color] she asked, checking the master condiment caddy beside them. Inside were bunches of small jam packets, available in strawberry, grape, and mixed fruit flavors. There seemed to be fewer packets of honey, perhaps because honey tended to be used for tea as well, but it was something. [color=#A67846]“Or margarine. There’re a few packets left.”[/color]