Chapter One - Raid

Hayden

My shoulders shifted, readjusting the thick strap of the assault rifle that dug into my muscles while I walked. The metal of the gun was hot as it seared through my thin shirt to my skin, heated from recent use. Nobody gave the weapon slung across my shoulder a second glance as I passed; they were used to the sight.

I could hear the heavy crunching of my boots on the ground as I walked down the dirt path toward the raid building. A light breeze tickled at my hair, which was tied back in a bandana to keep it off my face. It really had got too long but I couldn't find enough in me to bother with a haircut. Of all things I had to worry about, a haircut was not one of them.

Faces flashed by as I walked, my pace brisk and purposeful. It was nearing dusk, and I wanted to get the raid on the way before darkness completely enveloped us all. My eyes scanned the crowd for the faces I was searching for, but they didn't appear. The dirt road I walked down was bordered on either side by makeshift huts that were made of things rummaged from the city. Scraps of wood, metal, and glass were thrown together to produce surprisingly sturdy buildings that served as people's homes. Trees stood tall around us, masking our wooded encampment from any prying, unwelcome eyes.

While everyone ignored the weapon draped over my arm, people of all ages watched me with a sense of awe as I walked by. My relatively young age made my rise to the top all the more impressive. I was only twenty-one, but somehow I had found myself in charge of these people. All these people, ranging from just little kids to those so old they could hardly walk, and I responsible for protecting them, providing for them; I was in charge of keeping them alive.

The weight of this responsibility didn't escape me, and I quickly found it taking over my thoughts as I ducked my head to enter the raid building. It was one of our sturdiest buildings, made entirely out of metal with actual locks on the doors as opposed to the simple sliding wood hatches we'd constructed in everyone's huts. There were, at all times, at least two people here to guard our supplies. As the keep for our weapons and ammunition, it was one of the most essential places in our entire settlement.

I nodded at the two in charge of guarding it now: a middle-aged man I recognised by face but not by name, and a boy of ten whom I knew very well. I sighed, wishing it were anyone but him on duty at the moment because I knew what would surely follow.

'Hi, Hayden!' he said cheerfully, jumping to his feet immediately and racing to my side. I glanced down at him before moving to one of the gun cases held in the building. Swinging the strap over my head, I removed the weapon to put it back to its rightful place. He looked just as haphazard as ever with a mop of hair falling in his eyes and clothes that were far too large for him. He was practically swimming in his T-shirt, and his jeans dragged along the floor whenever he took a step.

'Jett, you're supposed to be on duty,' I reminded him, raising an eyebrow. A look of concern flashed across his face before he erased the smile and put on a mock-serious expression.

'Yes sir, I know that—'

'Don't call me "sir",' I grumbled immediately. It was something a lot of people had started to do, especially the younger kids, and I hated it.

'Right, sorry si—, um, Hayden,' he said, almost repeating his mistake. I ignored him and pulled out an 8 mm handgun. After slipping the clip out, I discovered it to be half empty.

'So, um, I was wondering—'

'No,' I said flatly, already knowing what he was going to ask. I pulled some bullets out of the case to load into the gun.

'But why?' he whined. 'I'm old enough! Let me come with!'

'You're not old enough. One more year,' I said gently. As annoyingly over-eager as he was, I could admit he was determined, and I had to admire that. For years now, he'd been bothering me to come along on a raid only for me to deny him every single time.

'You said that last year,' he pointed out, his tone disgruntled.

He was right but I wasn't going to admit that. I'd thought a year ago that he would maybe be ready by now, but he was still far from it. He was just a kid, too young to realise the severe danger that went along with raids and too unskilled to defend himself. He would only put everyone, especially himself, in danger.

'Next year,' I repeated. I slammed the clip back into the gun before reaching behind me to shove it into the back of my jeans. The metal was cold against my skin where it touched my back, but it gave me an odd shot of adrenaline; it was almost time for the raid.

'All right, let's get this show on the road,' a voice said suddenly, booming through the relatively small building. My eyes were averted from Jett's disappointed face to see Dax and Kit coming through the door. Dax, as always, looked ecstatic to be going on a raid while Kit's expression was that of stony seriousness. Both men were around my age and absolute opposites of each other, but I wouldn't dream of going on a raid without both of them.

'Hayden.' Kit nodded at me in greeting before moving to a different crate across the room to gather his supplies. Dax loped over to join Jett and me at the case and grab a gun of his own.

'Jett, what's the deal, you coming with us finally or what?' he asked lightly, grinning down at the boy. I frowned, irritated that Dax insisted on encouraging him.

'Hayden won't let me. He says I'm too young still,' he grumbled, glaring at me out of the corner of his eye while I stuffed a switchblade into my pocket.

'Nope, I won't,' I assented, turning my back on the two to gather some more supplies. I grabbed a small backpack before shoving some first aid materials and a bottle of water into it.

'Aw, don't worry, your time will come, little man,' Dax said, clapping him on the shoulder a bit harder than he probably meant to. Jett's body jerked a few inches to the side from the force, proving yet again how unfit for a raid he actually was.

'But I wanna go now,' he muttered, dropping his gaze to the ground and digging the toe of his shoe into the dirt that covered the wooden floor.

Dax reached out to ruffle his hair with a good-natured chortle before joining me to grab a supply bag of his own. Instead of a first aid kit, however, wires, batteries, and an assortment of other electrical equipment were stuffed into the backpack before he slung it over his shoulders. Dax was the resident technology expert and was capable of getting nearly anything, no matter how decrepit and broken down, back into working condition. He was one third of the essential team of he, Kit, and I.

Kit, on the other hand, handled the majority of the surveillance and, when necessary, weaponry. He was the one who more often than not ended up firing the guns we all carried or using the deceptively large knife he hid in his back pocket. When it came to raids, he was the last one anyone wanted to mess with if they wanted to make it out in one piece or even alive at all. Kit was the way he was for a reason, and he had more than a few kills under his belt to justify it.

My role in the trio seemed to change depending on what we were raiding for and where we were going. I , everything. It was one of the reasons I'd risen so high, though I hadn't meant to at the time; all I'd been trying to do was stay alive, not run a group of over three hundred people. I'd never asked for this responsibility, but it was mine now and I embraced it with everything I had.

Jett watched closely as we all gathered around the central table that was lit by a single lamp dangling from overhead. There were only three buildings in our encampment that had electricity in the form of generators: the kitchen, the infirmary, and the raid building; the rest of the buildings were lit by lanterns and candles. The hanging lamp was the only light in the room, so our shadows were cast in sharp contrast against the walls. With our weapons and supplies ready, we only had one thing left to do.

'All right, so,' I started. My thumb rubbed across my lower lip as I thought of the best plan of action. 'We're going to Greystone, and we need kerosene for the lanterns. That's it.'

'What?' Dax protested immediately. 'We're going to bloody Greystone and all we're taking is kerosene? What's the point then?'

'The point is we need kerosene and we're not gonna risk taking anything else when it isn't necessary,' I said firmly. I glared at him, annoyed at his insistence to think of raids as something fun instead of dangerous. It would get him hurt one day if he kept it up. 'Especially at Greystone.'

Dax frowned at me, disappointed our mission wasn't one of the larger ones but accepting my ruling. Not that he really had a choice – I was in charge, after all. Both he and Kit were my closest friends and allies, so it was difficult for me to give them orders without feeling like a power-hungry asshole. I trusted them with my life, and they trusted me with theirs.

Trust was essential in times like ours. You could trust your group and no one else. Depending on what we were raiding for, we took different amounts of people. Since this was a relatively small raid, we only needed the three of us. It was how I liked it the most, because large raids with loads of people made me nervous for the group's sake. The more people you take, the greater the risk of getting caught and killed.

'Can we at least get some ammo while we're there? We're running out of shells,' Dax stated, giving his idea one last shot.

'We have plenty of shells,' Kit said from across the table. His face was, as always, serious as he listened to the plan. 'Now shut up and take your orders.'

'Yeah, yeah. Loosen up a bit, would ya?' he said, shaking his head in disappointment at our lack of enthusiasm. I ignored him.

'Now that we've cleared that up, everyone remember where it is?'

They both nodded.

'Left side of their camp with one guard going by every ten minutes,' Kit said. I nodded.

'That's it. Let's get going before it gets too dark to see without a light,' I said.

Jett, who had remained fairly quiet so far, let out an indignant huff that he was being left out.

'Stay put, little man,' Kit said, shooting him a rare grin. Jett had a special place in everyone's hearts, even the always-serious Kit.

'Little man,' Jett muttered, crossing his arms over his chest before letting out a quiet scoff. 'I hate when you guys call me that.'

Dax let out a hearty laugh, his spirits once again high after I'd briefly shot down his more extensive raid idea. He couldn't resist a raid, no matter how simple.

'Let's go,' I said, growing impatient. With our backpacks on and weapons secured, each of us grabbed a flashlight before saying goodbye to Jett and the man on guard.

It was already much darker outside now than it had been when I'd gone inside, and I wanted to get through the woods before it got completely dark. It was nearly pitch black beneath the thick canopy of trees, and using a flashlight to manoeuvre through the trunks was a sure-fire way to blow your cover.

Together, we trekked through the camp, nodding at people as we passed by but mostly focusing our heads to prepare for the raid. We were quiet as we neared the edge of the huts and grew quieter still once we disappeared into the trees. Our feet moved deftly over the branches and twigs that littered the ground, our years of practice making us nearly silent as we shifted among the shadows.

Greystone was the closest settlement to ours at about a mile away. While our camp was hidden among the woods, Greystone sat about one hundred yards off the tree line, completely exposed. While it might seem like a bad idea to have literally no cover over your camp, it was all purposeful and strategic: Greystone was probably the most dangerous to us of all the individual camps; with their abundant weaponry and a penchant for people who loved to fight, they were not the group you wanted to mess with, much less steal from in the dark of the night. The lack of trees around their camp made of stony buildings gave us virtually no cover and made it easy for their on-duty guards to spy incoming intruders.

Other encampments, such as , were far less well-protected and much easier to raid, but were significantly farther away. For extensive raids, we would make the journey through the wasteland of a city and back, but for small raids like this, we preferred to sneak into Greystone. There were still other groups of people living together, all with their own loyalties to each other and no one else. Clusters of people, all living in makeshift villages in a ring around the city, had formed years and years ago. It had been like that nearly all of my life.

Aside from the organised camps, were those that dwelled within the city – the most dangerous, brutal type of people who killed for fun. They lived in the shattered shells of buildings, living off food stolen from unsuspecting passersby and using whatever they could fashion into weapons to carry out their threats. These were the people who seemed to have reverted a bit in evolution, relying on their most barbaric instincts and nothing more for survival. We called them Brutes, and they were another reason we preferred to sneak into Greystone rather than risk going through the city.

Everyone was divided and nobody trusted anyone but those in their own camp. That was how it worked – you fight for your own camp and that's it. If you needed something, you either stole it or risked going into the city to scavenge for it. You steal, you sneak, you lie, and you fight, all to survive. You do all this, or you die.

'I can see it,' Dax whispered, slowing his pace as he pointed ahead. My focus was ripped from my thoughts as I blinked into the darkness. Sure enough, past where Dax's finger was pointed I could see the dark outlines of stone houses. Their camp was set up in a circle, with the most important buildings and resources held in the middle. Guards, just like the ones we had, patrolled the area continuously to deter thieves such as ourselves. They were armed with guns, and they weren't afraid to use them. More than once, we had lost members of our camp to gunfire from those in Greystone.

We hovered on the edge of the tree line and squinted across the hundred-yard gap between us and the outer edges of their settlement. Silently, each of us pulled our guns from their various holding places to have them ready by our sides.

'There,' Kit breathed. His eyes were fixed on a shadow moving between the small buildings, the outline of a barrel of a gun visible in his silhouette. 'He'll be back in ten.'

'Shouldn't we wait to double check?' Dax asked. His eyes, too, followed the moving shadow.

'No, it's always ten. Every time,' Kit replied. I nodded silently, more to myself to them. Kit was right; every single raid I'd ever been on, their guard had passed by in ten minutes. No more, no less, and I had been on a lot of raids.

'Remember, left side,' I whispered. The shadow was nearly gone now and our window of opportunity had just opened. 'Go!'

Without a moment's hesitation, the three of us sprinted from the trees like silent shadows, our feet whispering across the patchy grass without a sound. My muscles revelled in the stretch, the exertion of running making them feel alive after walking for so long. I pulled in deep, even breaths while I ran to keep up the fast pace. I could hear Dax and Kit doing the same beside me, our bodies in excellent shape from the sustained physical exertion. My eyes constantly scanned the houses for another shadow, another guard, or maybe just a person out wandering from their home, but I saw none.

After a few moments, we reached the first building and threw our bodies silently against the wall, flattening ourselves shoulder to shoulder as much as we could to hide ourselves from view. Everyone's breath remained quiet and even despite having just sprinted a hundred yards. My ears pricked for any sound of someone approaching or calling warning to our arrival, but none came. I nodded at the two before cautiously poking my head around the corner. My heart pounded with the adrenaline that only a raid could deliver.

'Clear,' I whispered before slinking around the building. They followed silently behind me. Silence was second nature to us by now.

It was very dark in Greystone, as they seemed to have the same electrical problems we had, but candles flickered here and there to give enough light to illuminate our target. The building we aimed for was relatively unremarkable, and the only thing that distinguished it from the other bland, grey buildings was a small, intricate carving of a fire on the door – fire that can only burn with kerosene.

My eyes scanned the area once more and saw nothing. In my mind, I could feel the minutes ticking by, each pause wasting more and more of our precious time to get in, get our supplies, and get out. I gave a tiny flick of my hand to signal them to follow me before sprinting across the path and landing by the door. I paused for only a second to press my ear against the door, listening on the off chance someone was inside. Silence greeted me.

I turned the knob to let myself in, quickly followed by Kit and Dax. Our prize lay all around the room, piles upon piles built up along the walls. The moment we entered, we each gathered up several gallons of kerosene, throwing one in our backpacks and carrying another to leave one hand to wield a weapon.

'Hayden,' Kit whispered. 'We're good, we'll go first then signal you.'

I nodded, waving them out the door to see them disappear into the darkness before turning back around to see if anything else useful. They were only gone a few seconds when I heard it. All of a sudden, a loud clang sounded from behind me followed by a hushed gasp.

I jolted around, searching for the guard and expecting to see a gun in my face. What I saw was worse. There, standing in the doorway next to a pile of toppled kerosene cans, stood Jett with a look of surprise on his face and a hand clamped over his mouth.

'Jett!' I hissed. 'What the hell are you doing here?'

'I wanted to help on the raid!' he replied, whisper-shouting more than whispering. He looked eager and enthusiastic and far too happy about our current situation, especially after making such a racket, and it was as if he didn't fully realise the seriousness of it. He had probably alerted their entire camp, half of who would be on their way toward us in a matter of moments.

'I'm sor—'

I shushed him to cut him off, my eyes wide in anger. What an idiot to follow us here; now he was going to get us all killed.

My eyes darted toward the door and I was relieved to see no sign of Dax or Kit. At least they had made it out. Jett stood with his chest puffed out as best he could, trying to appear brave and unafraid. His little fists were clenched by his side in determination.

'Jett, we have to go. Now,' I seethed, rushing forward and yanking him by the arm. He grumbled quietly, muttering something about 'just wanting to help'. My grip on him was tight as I hovered by the edge of the door, glancing around to look for guards. It was, miraculously, clear.

'Come on,' I whispered, tugging him forward. I stepped forward, pulling our bodies out of the cover of darkness into the dim lighting provided by the streets.

'Hold it,' a voice directly behind me said. My heart plummeted in my chest. I heard the distinct click of metal on metal – the sound of a gun loading into place. I closed my eyes in a grimace as I shoved Jett in front of me, shielding him from whoever was behind me. I heard the terrified gasp break through the false bravado he was trying so hard to maintain, giving way to the fear he should have been feeling all along were it not for his disillusioned sense of things.

'Turn around,' the voice commanded. A girl's voice, I was surprised to discover, though it certainly didn't lack any authority. I turned slowly on the spot, tucking my gun into my waistband discreetly on the way and managing to keep Jett shielded behind me. After dropping the jug of kerosene by my feet, I raised both of my hands in the air by my head, more concerned with getting the terrified Jett out of here than myself.

My eyes moved from the ground, up her body, and to the gun in her hand pointed straight at my chest before finally locking on her eyes. They were a deep green, and her face was framed by wisps of blonde hair that fell from her haphazard bun. She was, without a doubt, absolutely beautiful, and she was fully prepared to kill me.