The wind was chilly and the sudden squally showers almost sent our plans up in flames, but with money riding on this assignment, we couldn’t just wuss out. We hid outside the border waiting for the old man, whose wagon we sneaked into, to cross it. The borders of each sector were strict, and the guards followed the rules as if they were sewn onto their hearts.

The United Sectors, once known as the United States, were divided into five sectors 400 years ago. The Gold sector, a place full of wealth that could feed generations of the entire country for years to come. The White sector, a utopia that holds one third of the population. The Black Sector, an unknown place where no one has set foot in for the past decade. The Green sector, a workers' paradise that's filled with another one third of the population. The Red sector, a place filled with the worst criminals the world had ever seen. My home.

My mother would never have thought of me as a thief, but a rat has gotta eat. I thought about this as I settled deeper into the wagon. The whole thing rattled and shook as we went from the Red to the Green sector. While the Green sector wasn’t rich, it wasn’t stupidly poor either, and could afford the basic medical care the Red sector was denied.

Once we were in, we snuck around like a fox in a hen house, hitting every nest we could get. First we went to the pharmacy. It was a small building with almost nothing left to share, but their people were healthier, so they could afford to miss a day or two of medication.

We creaked open the window to the room of the sleeping pup, who was brought in just for us. We named him Bruno, a sweetheart who had not yet had the courage to bark at things ten times bigger than he was.

"Alaric!" Zdeno mouthed, "This way," We had hit this place at least twice a month, but the doc was clearly good at hiding the expensive stuff. Yet that didn’t mean anything to a kid who had been stealing for the past ten years. "Rigmor, take the cabinets. Zdeno, be the lookout," I said.

Zdeno and Rigmor were both the same age, but a year younger than me. I had known them since I was eight years old. I was a petty thief, and they were my hungry subordinates. Zdeno, though being younger, was the tallest, and Rigmor had a sassy mouth with a baby face.

I was the daughter of a runaway and a dead man. It didn’t matter what I did or looked like, because who I was; was never going to change. I would always be a petty thief in the eyes of those above me.

Next, we hit the schoolhouse, a big red building that actually had chairs and didn’t stank of mold. We took notebooks, pencils, paper, anything that didn’t seem all that important to the kids who could easily go down the street and get a pack of five and still only need one.

Lastly we hit the farmers market, a place full of hard working people who make a living selling their goods. Did we feel bad? Yes, but that wasn’t gonna lessen the mouths we had to feed. In comparison to the rest of the country, we lived in a bleak wasteland, and merely being born there sealed your fate as a criminal.

The food we munched on was delicious, as we joked about the looks of the bewildered farmers realizing lumps of their goods were gone. The walk to the border was short but I was no fool to notice the two dragging me along like we had all the time in the world.

“It will be nighttime soon, stop the dilly-dallying,” I asked. The two gave me a sad look “Ok,” they mewled. We snuck back onto the old man's wagon and quickly passed back into the red sector. We collected our loot and made a plan on how we were going to deliver the goods.

I would take down town with most of the food, while Rigmor would head to the old folks street and the pharmacy and Zendo would go to the schools. We made a plan to be back by midnight. The streets were filled with beggars as they held out their hands and tugged on my clothing, waiting for me to pass out the food I cradled.

“Line up!” I shouted. One by one they quickly formed a line and waited for their turn to satisfy their family. The food was already pre paid for there was no need to ask for money from those who couldn’t even work if they wanted to.

By the time it was midnight I had given nearly all the food away. Most were satisfied but I would still get looks from those who knew I had more food. Nonetheless their looks were easy to ignore as living in a slum had made me immune to pointless threats.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

It didn’t take long for me to reach the park, an abandoned place full of the broken junk the other sectors no longer wanted. We were told to be grateful but who in their right mind would be grateful for broken beer bottles and bed bugs. I sat on the swings and waited on Zendo and Rigmor. The two were always late as they had a much harder time dealing with people who were mostly old thugs.

“Alaric,” someone called, I turned to see who it was but was met by a weeping Rigmor. “What happened?” I asked, trying to keep my composure. “Th-They took everything,” she proclaimed, “I couldn’t save the medicine ment for your sister.” With a deep breath I gathered my thoughts before speaking, I didn’t want to ask another question that upset her.

“Where's Zendo?” I asked. She gave me a tearful look and pointed to a abandoned house. I rushed over with angst in my heart. Zendo was not one known to fight. I picked up a brick and slowly creeped around the house only to find Zendo face flat in a pool of his own blood. His throat had been pierced.

My heart sank. I felt as though every breath I tried to take my chest would tighten. I gritted my teeth and rushed over to check his pulse. It was faint but it was still there. A small wave of relief washed over me as I positioned him on my back and headed back towards Rigmor.

When I got back Rigmor was a white as a ghost but it wasn’t that difficult to tell from her usual color. “Let's go,” I montined. We jogged silently to the hospital as Zendo was too heavy to run with. Though every once in a while I could hear the silent weeping of Rigmor.

“What happened?” I asked. Silence. “What. Happened.” I yelled, making her jump. But all she could do was lower her head. I soon became livid with anger.

By the time we got to the hospital I was out of breath and my back was soaked with Zendo’s blood. My heart felt weak as they put him on a beat up streacter and lifted him to have immediate surgery. The only family Zendo had was his father and the old man was quick to rush to his son's side. Waiting just as patiently as I was.

I had tried to get a little more information out of Rigmor but it seemed that every time she tried to speak a lump had been caught in her throat. By the time Zendo was out of surgery it was two o’clock in the morning. “He’ll be fine but he needs to rest,” the doctor told us, handing the old man a slip of paper.

His face went white and he quickly shoved the paper down into his pocket. I wished to have stayed at Zendo side a bit more but time did not allow it. I said my goodbyes to Rigmor and the old man and quickly left for home.

The street light flickered as I made my way down the dirt road. With the front door locked I climbed by the side of the house to my window. Shushing the neighborhood dogs as I popped the lock and quietly stepped inside, trying to avoid all the creaky wood boards of the house.

“What a naughty child.” a mystery voice said. I quickly turned around, trying my hardest to locate the voice. But with no luck was filled with paranoia. Was I followed home? Did the guards catch on to my thievery? Did they do anything to my mother and sister? A million things rushed through my mind as I began breathing hard but by now I had picked up a bat.

The moment a hand touched my shoulder I started swinging but it was no use as it was quickly caught. I tried to break it away but it was pointless. “It’s better not to struggle,” a sweeter voice said. Revealing herself with a candle. She was old, much older than my mother or any other woman I had ever seen in the Red sector.

“What do you want?” I asked, backing myself into a corner as the other voice revealed himself to be an older man. The two took out a chair and sat in front of me.

“For you too join us,” they collectively said. “Join what?” I replied hesitantly. The old woman then leaned over to hand me a card. It had a simple address and nothing more “3300 Bee Caves Rd, White sector,” I gave them a look that showed how displeased I was with the answer and began fiddling with the locket around my neck.

For a split second the woman's face twitched. Was it the sight of my locket? The lack of my response? “What’s in it for me, if I join?” I asked. “Money of course, along with fame and a kingdom your own,”

I gave her a strange look, still hesitant to answer. “I’ll come,” I said. Pleased with my answer they quickly gave me a nod, but the woman. The woman gave me sort of a warm smile that gave me a little comfort. I tried to give her one back but they had disappeared before my eyes.

“Alarc!” my mother called, kicking the door wide open, “Where have you been?” I give her an innocent smile and she scoffs. “Come down!” she demanded. I followed her orders and walked her down the narrow hallway of my home.

We lived in what was more of a shack than anything else. It was small and used to be so cramped as we had to live with two families at one point. Kara, my younger sister, was sleeping peacefully on the old couch.

“She was waiting on you,” my mother said. I walked over and patted her hair and picked her up in my arms and carried her to the mattress on the floor and threw a cover on her. It wasn’t long till I joined her and my mother slept away on the couch.

For a while I couldn’t sleep, only thinking of Zendo but soon my mind eased and allowed me to rest.