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Raven's eyes hadn't left Carl since the accident. Even now, as she moved through the wide gravel paths of New America, clipboard in hand, she kept track of him by sound—a shuffle of boots, the scrape of his cane, that careful cadence he'd adopted since the crash. She told herself it was just leadership: keep an eye on your people. But she knew better.
Morning in New America always started with a survey. She made her way along the perimeter, boots crunching over frostbitten grass. Dale was already waiting at the north checkpoint, his uniform crisp, face set in that particular expression of someone who hadn't slept much but would never admit it.
"Anything?" she asked, scanning the treeline. She didn't see Carl, but she heard him. Somewhere behind the community garden, he was talking to Judith, his voice soft but steady.
Dale shook his head. "Nothing but a couple of deer. No tracks, no fires, no new noise. We're good."
She nodded, but her mind drifted. She kept waiting for something to go wrong. "Keep the night patrols in pairs. And check the west fence—someone mentioned hearing voices last night."
Dale scribbled on his notepad. "You want me to send a team?"
"Go yourself," she said, almost snapping. She dialed it back. "You know what to look for. I trust you."
He gave her a wary smile. "You got it, boss."
As Dale strode off, Raven glanced around. Carl was out of sight now, maybe heading for the old schoolhouse they used as a clinic. She resisted the urge to follow. She needed to be everywhere at once, and nowhere in particular. That was the job.
She moved through the rows of tents and prefab cabins, nodding to people, answering questions, checking the water line. All the while, the image of Carl—limping, proud, pretending the pain didn't slow him—stayed with her. She told herself she was watching over him because he was vulnerable. In her gut, she knew she just couldn't look away.
She didn't notice Rick's eyes on her. He had a knack for blending in, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, half-shadowed by the morning sun. He watched the way she moved, the way her gaze always found Carl. He saw the worry she tried to hide, the way her fingers drummed against her thigh when she thought no one was looking.
By noon, Raven was back at the main gate, radioing in with the patrols. "All clear?" she asked, voice clipped, professional.
"All clear," came the reply.
She let herself breathe for a moment. Carl was at the far end of the field now, working with Judith to fix a broken water pump. Raven watched him, arms folded, jaw clenched. She didn't see Rick at all, standing just inside the gate, eyes on her, waiting for her to notice.
In New America, you learned to keep your guard up, to watch for threats from every angle. Raven watched over Carl, because that's what she did. She didn't realize someone was watching over her, too.
