Once she gets far enough back up the shore of the lake, it's not too hard to figure out where they are. Coming up on Klaus, Diego, and Luther already well into the swing of things -- or so says the body that Luther just ripped in two, easy as though it was paper and not bones, and threw far out toward the middle of the lake as she was getting there.

There's an easier than it should be ease to it. Making the circuit of her gaze take in where each of them was, and how many were coming from each of the directions, and estimating how many of those fast, choppy waves were the warning of more undead things coming out of the water still. Like the house that night, and the bowling alley. It's almost too easy.

There's a nod at Luther, less hello and more like signing-in, at attention, accounted for, and turned from it, without a pause, toward one of the ones just stumbling out, as she flips the chair rod in her hand. The one was still soaked more red and grey than brown, and just came from being stabbed into the brain of another of those bastards.