The fire had burned low, casting faint orange light over the ruins. The gang had talked at length, and the decision was made: they’d head to the Burgh. Supplies were running low, and whether by barter or theft, they’d get what they needed to help Reed and Jenny on their mission—or so it seemed on the surface.

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After showing Jenny the small, hastily prepared corner of the hideout where she could rest, Reed turned to see Laura gesturing to him from the shadows. Her expression was sharp, her dark eyes narrowed as she jerked her head toward the stairs. He followed her up to the second floor, the half-collapsed walls giving them a vantage point over the crumbled ruins.

“What’s your game, Reed?” Laura asked as soon as they were out of earshot, her tone sharp.

Reed opened his mouth, but Laura cut him off with a dismissive wave. “Never mind that—let’s start with the obvious. That girl. She’s got one arm. One. How’s she supposed to hold her own out here?”

“She can handle herself,” Reed said, leaning casually against a jagged bit of concrete. “I’ve seen her shoot. Took down some nasty shit in that cave with just her left hand. And she’s been training with the knife.”

Laura raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Training isn’t survival. Out here, one slip and she’s dead. And if she’s dead, she’s our problem. You really think she can keep up?”

“I don’t think, I know,” Reed said firmly, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “She’s tough. Scrappy. She made it this far, didn’t she?”

Laura scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “Barely. You saved her. And now we’re supposed to babysit her while she figures out how to live with one hand?”

Reed leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. “I wouldn’t have brought her here if I thought she couldn’t cut it.”

Laura’s gaze narrowed, her skepticism clear, but she didn’t push further on the topic. Instead, she shifted gears. “Fine. So what’s your game, then?”

Reed smirked, relaxing back against the wall. “Relax. It’s a long con. They’ll pay us for the help. And if they don’t, well... we’ll improvise.”

“Improvise?” Laura repeated, her tone cutting. “You mean screw them over.”

He shrugged. “Only if we have to.”

She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a low growl. “Whatever your plan is, just remember one thing while you’re chasing after that clean white pussy—” she spat the words, her tone dripping with disdain, “—don’t forget where your loyalties lie. This is not the time or place for the illusion of emotions.”

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Reed met her gaze evenly, his usual smirk fading for a moment. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“You better not,” Laura said, her voice cold as she turned to leave. “Because if you screw us over for her, I’ll make you regret it.”

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Later that night, Reed found Jenny sitting near the embers of the fire, staring at the ground. He approached, dropping down beside her without a word. For a moment, the two sat in silence.

Jenny broke it first, her voice soft. “I didn’t mean to... offend anyone earlier.”

Reed smirked, shaking his head. “Laura’s tough. She’ll get over it.”

Jenny glanced at him, her expression troubled. “It’s just... they never told us about... people like her. Or Chan. Everyone in the bunker looked the same. Every photo in the archives, every history lesson—it was all the same kind of people. Like the rest of the world never even existed.”

Reed frowned slightly, leaning back on his hands. “Figures. They fed you the version of the world they wanted you to believe. Easier that way.”

Jenny’s brow furrowed, her voice quiet. “If they lied about that... what else is a lie?”

Reed shrugged, his tone neutral but his eyes studying her closely. “Does it matter? You’re out here now. It’s your chance to figure it out for yourself.”

She was quiet for a long moment, staring into the faintly glowing embers. “Are you sure it’s not... a mutation? Maybe the Cleansing did something—”

“Nope,” Reed said with a chuckle, cutting her off. “People have always been different, princess. You just didn’t know it.”

Jenny nodded slowly, the weight of his words settling over her. For the first time, she wondered just how much of her knowledge had been carefully curated. How much was real... and how much was just a story.

----------------------------------------

The camp was silent, the gang sprawled in their makeshift sleeping spots around the ruins. Reed stood on watch in the shadow of a crumbled wall, his back to the wind as his sharp eyes scanned the dark. From his vantage point, he could see Jenny curled up in her corner, her small frame barely a ripple under the blanket.

Her face was turned toward the firelight, its faint glow highlighting her features as she twitched slightly in her sleep, reacting to some unseen dream. The way her lips parted, the way her brow furrowed and smoothed again, struck him as oddly... innocent. For all her bravado and sharpness, there was something kitten-like about her vulnerability. She was tiny—fragile in a way he hadn’t quite noticed before.

Reed sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Is this really a con?” he muttered to himself. The words hung in the air, unanswered.

He thought back to the first time he saw her, wandering alone in the wasteland. At first, he’d been curious. A lone girl, far too clean for this broken world, clearly out of place. He’d followed her, at first out of caution, then out of darker curiosity. He’d even considered assaulting her—an easy target, no witnesses, no consequences.

But then the cannibals got there first.

The thought made his stomach turn now, a mix of guilt and shame he hadn’t felt in a long time. He shook his head, muttering to himself. “It’s just a job. That’s all.”

Still, as he watched her sleep, he couldn’t quite convince himself.