As the group rode down the highway out of the city, Alice suddenly swerved and fell off Erzabet's bike. She was unconscious, and Rachelle quickly ran over to check on her.

"What's going on?" Erzabet asked, pulling her bike to a stop.

"Something's wrong with Alice," Rachelle said, "She's unconscious."

Erzabet hopped off her bike and walked over to see what was happening. "Let me take a look."

Rachelle carefully unwrapped the bandage on Alice's hand, revealing a deep cut. But as she inspected it more closely, she noticed something strange. The wound had been meticulously stitched and healed almost completely.

"This is more than just a cut," Rachelle said, "Someone's been performing surgical experiments on her."

Trace leaned in to look at the hand. "Looks more like a mountain cat's paw than a human hand."

Tailor furrowed their brow. "This is like something out of The Island of Doctor Moreau."

As they discussed what to do next, Alice began to stir, slowly waking up. The group quickly huddled around her, asking if she was okay and what had happened.

Alice looked up at them, her eyes wide with fear. "I just wanted to get out of the city," she said, "I didn't want to go back there."

The group exchanged worried glances. They knew they couldn't leave Alice alone, but they also knew they couldn't risk that one of the people they brought back to the survivors' camp was that doctor.

"We'll figure it out," Rachelle said, "We'll make sure you're safe."