Important Enough to Ask for a Name

The forest stretched before them, dense with shadows that seemed to move when she wasn't looking. Alexia's fingers tightened around her machete. The wraith's defeat had left her on edge, and Quinn's lingering presence wasn't helping.

The glowing orb pulsed faintly in her pocket, a silent reminder of the unknown. Her system hadn't offered any new insights, and she hated walking blind.

"System," she muttered, her voice barely audible. "Can you analyze the orb yet?"

[Analyzing.... Progress: 15%. Further exposure to compatible energy sources may accelerate analysis.]

Great. That was about as helpful as throwing water at a grease fire.

She glanced at Quinn. His steps were steady, but she could see the stiffness in his posture. The slam against the tree had done more damage than he'd let on. His cocky smirk might've fooled someone else, but not her.

"You should rest," Alexia said, breaking the silence.

Quinn snorted. "And let you run off into another death trap? No thanks."

Alexia rolled her eyes. "You're not invincible, you know."

"No," he replied with a faint grin, "but I'm damn close."

Her system buzzed softly in her mind, pulling her focus back.

[Tactical Awareness: Subject 'Quinn' is displaying heightened pain tolerance. Possible causes: Physical conditioning or experience with high stakes combat.]

The calm detached tone of the system almost made her laugh. As if she needed a computer to tell her Quinn wasn't just some ordinary survivor.

"You're hiding something," she said abruptly, testing his reaction.

Quinn didn't miss a beat. "Aren't we all?"

She was sharp. He could give her that.

Quinn adjusted the strap of his rifle, keeping his eye on the path ahead. The forest was quiet now, but the silence wasn't comforting, it was the kind that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Alexia had that same edge to her, the one he'd seen on his friend/boss. Quiet, deliberate, dangerous, in ways he couldn't fully pin down. The kind of person who didn't just survive the apocalypse but thrived in it.

He respected that. It didn't mean he trusted her.

When she called him out, asking what he was hiding, he had to fight the urge to laugh. If she knew even half of it, she'd be running in the opposite direction.

"You're not an open book either," he countered.

She glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "I don't have to be. I'm not the one who keeps looking over their shoulder like someone's coming to collect."

His jaw tightened. She was to perceptive for her own good.

"Old habits" he said casually. "You don't make it this far without picking up a few."

Her gaze lingered on him, sharp as her blade. She didn't press, but he could tell she was filing the moment away for later.

Quinn sighed inwardly. Trust wasn't something he gave freely, but sticking with Alexia might've been his smartest move yet. She was dangerous, sure, but the kind of dangerous that could keep him alive. 

Still, he couldn't shake that nagging feeling in his gut. Something about the wraith wasn't sitting right, and that glowing orb in her pocket? it was trouble. 

The trees thinned as they walked, revealing an abandoned gas station. The cracked asphalt was littered with debris, and the sign hanging above the rusted pumps swayed in the wind.

Alexia slowed, scanning the areas. "Stay sharp."

Quinn's laugh was low, almost mocking. "You think I've made it this far by relaxing?"

She ignored him, stepping cautiously toward the building. The windows were shattered, and a dark smear across the ground hinted at a fight having taken place here long ago. Alexia's grip on her machete tightened. 

The system chimed in her head:

[Tactical Awareness: No visible threats detected. Caution is advised. Potential resources located inside structure.]

Resources were always a gamble. For all she knew, the system could be flagging a few rusted cans and some old batteries. But they couldn't afford to pass it up.

She signaled to Quinn, motioning for him to cover her. She nodded, moving with practiced precision to flank the building. For someone so flippant, his movement spoke of training or experience.

Alexia stepped through the broken doorway; her machete raised. The air inside was stale, carrying the faint metallic tang of dried blood. Shelves were overturned, their contents long gone, but the faint glow of sunlight through the cracks revealed something near the back---a locked storage room.

She motioned for Quinn, who slipped in silently behind her. "Back there," she whispered, pointing to the door. 

Quinn nodded; his rifle aimed as he moved to cover her approach.

The scene felt all too familiar. The quiet, the tension, the potential for a fight to break out at any second. It reminded him of old syndicate raids, the kind that didn't leave room for mistakes.

Alexia's careful movements caught his attention again. She wasn't just winging it---she had a method, even if it wasn't polished. He'd underestimated her before, and he wasn't about to make that mistake again.

He adjusted his aim, watching as she crouched by the door. She reached for the handle, testing it lightly before glancing back at him. Her silent question was clear: Ready?

Quinn gave her a sharp nod.

Alexia twisted the handle, and the door creaked open. The smell hit first----rot and decay, the kind that clung to your clothes and stayed in your nose long after.

Then came the sound. A low, guttural growl.

Quinn's rifle snapped up as a figure stumbled out of the darkness--a runner, its gaunt body moving with unnatural speed. 

He fired without hesitation, the shot echoing in the small space. The creature crumpled, but two more rushed forward in its wake.

"Back up!" Alexia yelled, slashing at one of the creatures as it lunged for her.

 Quinn stepped back, his rifle barking again as he dropped the second runner. The third made it past him, claws swiping at his chest. He grunted in pain, twisting to drive his knife into its neck. 

The room fell silent once more, the only sound their ragged breathing.

"You good?" Alexia asked, her machete dripping dark blood.

Quinn wiped his blade clean on the runner's tattered clothes. "Nothing I can't handle."

She rolled her eyes but didn't push further. Instead, she stepped into the storage room, her eyes scanning the shelves.

The storage room was surprisingly intact, considering the rest of the building. Rows of supplies lined the shelves---cans of food, medical kits, and even a box of ammunition. 

Jackpot. 

It was almost as if someone left them there.

Her system buzzed in her head:

[Scavenging Results: High-Value items located. Recommend immediate collection.]

She didn't need the reminder. "Help me pack this up," she said, already pulling a bag from her pack. 

Quinn joined her, his expression unreadable as he grabbed a handful of supplies. "Not bad," he muttered.

Alexia spared him a glance. "You sound surprised."

He shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Just not used to things going this smoothly."

She didn't respond, focusing instead on the supplies. The glowing orb in her pocket pulsed faintly, but she ignored it for now. Whatever secrets it held could wait.

For the moment, survival came first.

Quinn's body ached with every step he took, the aftermath of their battle against the wraith heavily on him. His ribs throbbed where the tree has collided with his side and the wound on his chest stung, dried blood clung stubbornly to the cut on his forehead. He wasn't sure if he admired Alexia's endurance or resented how little she seemed fazed by the fight.

She was crouched Infront of him rustling through the piles of supplies, her machete by her side and shoulders tense, ready for anything. The silence between them was palpable, broken only by the sound of the supplies clustering together.

Quinn rolled his neck, suppressing a wince as he adjusted the bag on his back. "So," he said casually, breaking the quiet, "Do you have a name, or should I just keep calling you 'hey, you'?"

Alexia movement didn't falter, but he noticed the slight shift in her stance--- she'd become more guarded, more wary.

"What does it matter?" she asked, her tone neutral, but there was a sharpness beneath it.

"It matters if we're going to keep sticking together," he replied, matching her tone. "Or do you prefer 'partner in crime'? 'Machete Queen,' maybe?"

Alexia glanced back at him, her expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes----amusement, maybe? Or suspicion.

"Alexia," she said finally.

"Alexia," he repeated, testing the name. It suited her----strong, sharp, no-nonsense. "Nice to meet you, Alexia. I'm Quinn, in case you didn't catch it during all the screaming and stabbing."

"I caught it," she said, turning her attention back to what she was doing.

He chuckled softly. "Good. Saves me the trouble of reintroducing myself."

Despite the light tone, Quinn's mind was far from at ease. That glowing orb---whatever it was---still lingered in his thoughts. He'd seen a lot of strange things in this apocalypse, but nothing quite like that. And Alexia had pocketed it without a second thought, as if she knew exactly what it was.

"You always carry weird stuff like that?" he asked, testing the waters.

Her hand reaching for the medical kit paused slightly. "What do you mean?"

"The glowing ball of doom you just stuffed into your pocket," he said. "Doesn't exactly scream 'ordinary trinket'."

"It's none of your concern," she said curtly.

Quinn raised an eyebrow but didn't press. Yet. If she didn't want to share, that was fine. For now.

He sighed, glancing at the darkening sky above them. "You think there are more of those things out here? Wraiths or whatever it was?"

"Probably," Alexia said.

Her bluntness made him laugh, even if the thought sent a shiver down his spine. 

They decided to take shelter in the gas station as night fell. The building was half-collapsed, the roof sagging precariously, but it provided cover from the cold wind and the ever-watchful eyes of the forest.

Quinn set up near the shattered window, his rifle within reach. He watched Alexia move silently through the storage, her every action purposeful--checking exits, searching for left out supplies, always on edge.

"You don't trust anyone, do you?" he asked suddenly.

She paused, looking at him. "Should I?"

"Fair point," he admitted. "But you've got to let someone in eventually. Can't survive this hell alone forever."

"I've done fine so far," she said. 

"Sure," he said, leaning back against the wall. "But how much longer can you keep that up?"

Alexia didn't answer. Instead, she sat across the room, her back to the wall, her machete resting on her lap.

Quinn watched her for a moment longer before turning his attention back to the window. She was a mystery, no doubt about it. But he'd figure her out. He always did.

And if she thought she could keep all her secrets hidden, well.....she didn't know him very well yet.