Caring

The campfire crackled softly, its light casting flickering shadows across the rocky clearing. Ember pawed at the ground nearby, her scaled hooves scraping against stone as she snorted and sniffed at the sparse vegetation. Jenny sat cross-legged a short distance from the fire, her knife in her left hand, slicing through the right sleeve of her re-acquired uniform. The fabric peeled away, fraying at the edges as she worked it free.

Reed glanced up from the map he’d been studying. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before drifting to her right shoulder. The stump where her arm had been was hidden beneath bloodstained bandages that were long overdue for a change.

“Hey,” he said, setting the map down. “Let me see.”

Jenny paused, her hand tightening on the knife. “I’m fine.”

Reed gave her a look, one eyebrow arching in skeptical amusement. “Yeah, I’m sure you are. But let’s not wait until it falls off completely before we check, huh?”

She sighed, setting the knife aside. Her movements were stiff, and her breathing slow and measured, though every so often, she winced. Reed moved closer, settling beside her with the kind of ease that only came from necessity.

“Hold still,” he said, reaching for the bandages. His hands were rough but careful as he began to peel them back.

The old bandages came away reluctantly, sticking to the dried blood and scabbing along the edges of the wound. Jenny hissed softly, her lips pressing into a tight line as her left hand clenched into a fist.

“Easy,” Reed muttered, his voice soft. “I’m not exactly enjoying this either.”

When the last layer came free, the wound was fully exposed. The cauterized area was dark and rough, the skin around it puckered and uneven, scabbing beginning to form at the edges. Reed studied it closely, his brow furrowing.

“It’s holding up,” he said, though there was a faint note of doubt in his voice. “Better than I expected, anyway.”

Jenny didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on the fire as he worked. He poured a bit of water into a small tin cup, warming it over the flames before dipping a scrap of cloth into the makeshift antiseptic—firewater. When he pressed the cloth to the wound, Jenny sucked in a sharp breath, her body tensing as the sting lanced through her.

“Bite your lip if you have to,” Reed said, glancing up at her briefly. “Just don’t punch me. I’m the one trying to keep you alive.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her voice strained. “You’re lucky I’m down an arm, or you’d be in trouble.”

“Sure I would,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint grin. “Because you picked the wrong day to skip arm day.”

Jenny snorted despite herself, though the laugh quickly turned into a hiss as he cleaned another section of the wound. Reed worked quickly but thoroughly, his expression unusually serious. When he was satisfied, he wrapped the fresh bandages around the stump, tying them off with a firm but gentle knot.

“Good as new,” he said, sitting back and examining his work. “Well, not new. But you’re not gonna fall apart on me just yet.”

Jenny glanced down at the fresh bandages, the white fabric stark against the dirt and blood streaking her uniform. “Not exactly what I had in mind for a new look.”

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Reed leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, well, I’m not a doctor. Just a guy doing his best. Supplies are running low, though. We’re gonna need more bandages soon.”

Jenny’s gaze shifted to him, her expression softening slightly. “You’re doing fine.”

The quiet stretched between them, heavier than before. Reed’s fingers hovered near the map again, but his eyes flicked back to her wound, checking for signs of infection. He didn’t say anything, but the weight of what they both knew hung unspoken between them. If the wound didn’t heal properly, there wouldn’t be much he could do.

Finally, he cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Next time, try not to lose any more parts, okay? I’m running out of ideas for replacements.”

Jenny smirked faintly, shaking her head. “No promises.”

The fire crackled on as they settled back into their uneasy rhythm, the shared silence of survivors who didn’t need words to understand the stakes.

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Reed sat back near the fire, the map spread out on a flat rock in front of him. He squinted at the faded markings, tracing a finger along the lines and symbols etched onto the aged paper. His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to make sense of the fragmented terrain.

Jenny leaned back, her left arm resting on her bent knee as she watched him. Her uniform was now short-sleeved on one side, the torn fabric lying in a crumpled heap nearby. She let out a low mutter, almost to herself.

“It’s useless,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration. “Whatever this map shows... it’s not this place anymore. The terrain’s warped, landmarks are gone. It doesn’t match anything.”

Reed didn’t look up, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not wrong,” he said, “but it’s not completely useless.”

Jenny raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Find a hidden X marking the treasure?”

He chuckled softly. “No, but this thing itself? The map? You have any idea what something like this is worth? To the right buyer, it’s priceless.”

Jenny frowned. “Priceless? To who?”

Reed leaned back on his hands, looking up at her with a spark of amusement in his eyes. “The Burgh. Black market there deals in stuff like this all the time. Relics from the old world, little pieces of the way things used to be. And this map?” He gestured to the paper. “It’s about as rare as it gets.”

“The Burgh?” Jenny repeated, her surprise evident. “There are settlements?”

Reed snorted. “What, you thought the Bonelands were all that was left? That humanity just rolled over and died after the Cleansing?” He shook his head. “We’re not that easy to kill off.”

Jenny didn’t respond immediately, her gray eyes flicking back to the map. The idea of a settlement—any settlement—was hard to reconcile with the wasteland she’d seen so far. But she wasn’t about to be swayed from her mission.

“This isn’t just some relic to me,” she said, her voice firm. “It’s my mission.”

Reed glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “Important, huh?”

Jenny didn’t elaborate. She wasn’t about to explain her guilt, the mess she’d made back in the bunker, or why she’d snuck out in the first place. She didn’t owe him that. All she said was, “Yes. It is.”

Reed let out a low whistle, turning back to the map. “Alright. If it’s that important, we’re gonna need my gang. And more supplies.”

Jenny frowned. “Your gang?”

“Yep,” he said, tapping the map with one finger. “Because if I’m reading this right—and I’m not saying I am—then this and this” he pointed to two faded landmarks, “could be places I recognize. And if they are, our path takes us straight through the Danger Zone.”

Jenny crossed her arms, her brow furrowing. “Danger Zone?”

Reed’s expression darkened slightly, his smirk fading. “Yeah. A place where a city used to be. Not skyscrapers—more like blocks of tall, old buildings. Rows of them. Broken windows, crumbled walls. The ground’s... not exactly stable. You’ll see.”

She waited for him to explain further, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned his focus back to the map, muttering something about needing to confirm the landmarks.

Jenny’s chest tightened slightly. Whatever the Danger Zone was, Reed clearly wasn’t eager to talk about it. And that, more than anything, made her uneasy.

He leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “We’re gonna need backup.”

Jenny exhaled, glancing back at the map. The paper seemed fragile now, as though the weight of their journey had already begun to take its toll. But her resolve didn’t waver. If this was the path she had to take, she’d see it through.

“Backup,” she repeated, her voice firm. “Fine. Let’s go meet your gang.”

Reed chuckled softly, his grin returning. “You’re gonna love them.”

Somehow, Jenny doubted that.