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Wren

More than a week since the voice. Wren had tried to put it behind her but failed.

The darkness chilled her, and she pulled the black coat tight around her wiry frame.

A raider paced next to her. At first glance, Zander's appearance screamed bookworm not warrior even with appendages adorned with tattoos and spiked red hair shooting up to the stars.

He was too skinny, face too hawkish and angular, and movements too uncoordinated for a raider, but his basset-hound eyes told a different story. Intelligence radiated from him. His intellect had been tested when young and no one could beat the scores since. In practice or on a mission, he was dangerous, having mastered the use of weapons such as throwing stars, compound bow, batons, and knives. He rarely lost a fight and held a grudge for a long time if he did. Lucky for most of the raiders, he also had a big heart.

Zander noticed Wren's gaze. "Where are you heading tonight?" he asked.

She kicked at charcoal-laced sand. "Not sure. It's not like I have a plan every time I go in. Do you?"

"Of course."

The gates loomed tall in front of them. Wren veered off into the darkness. Zander followed.

She liked him but preferred raiding alone. Zander was smarter and more ambitious than most raiders, and she wouldn't put it past her dad to employ him to keep an eye on her.

"You should have a plan," he said. "I'm going for more medical supplies. While the pharmacy is getting good at reproducing some of them, we still always need more. Too many little kids and their snot noses."

"Good for you." Wren eyed the sky, checking for patrolling Phantoms.

"You should at least have a target." He trailed at her side.

It annoyed her. Everyone understood Wren worked alone, but Zander was attempting to work his way up the food chain and be the youngest commander in Grounder history.

He cozied up to Wren because of her connections. Most days Zander was tolerable, but not tonight.

"I'm going to target your face if you don't shut up," she said. "There could be Phantoms flying overhead."

His eyes rose toward the moon. "All clear."

Wren chuckled. "I got to go. I'll see you when I get back and we can get some grub."

"You're always hungry."

"I'm a growing girl." She gave him a wave and walked a few steps.

He didn't let her go easily. "What's the rush if you don't have an idea where you're going?"

"Maybe I have a plan but don't want to tell you." She smirked. "My haul might be so good you'd be tempted to steal it."

"Let's be partners for the night." He reached out to grab her arm.

"I work alone." She pulled away and quickened her pace.

He waved when she glanced over her shoulder.

She prayed he'd go his own way.

Once inside New State, her mission was to find out if the voice had been real or imagined. Not understanding bothered her, elevating her bad choices. She'd been returning later, pushing the limits, and acting secretive, confused about whether to share what happened.

Tonight, she'd find out if the stress had made her hallucinate. If it had, she'd have to take a leave because she'd never put other raiders in danger.

Her boots crunched through the grass as she moved closer. She found the pod easy enough, and hid in the shadows of a neighboring one, watching and planning ways to attract the boy's attention without waking the neighborhood. She slid her foot back and forth over the stones, unable to stand still, her mind and body on edge.