Wren

48

(biker gang: The Bloody Reapers) Some call me Wren, though I doubt any of them know my real name, or anything else about me for that matter. That's just fine by me. I keep my head down, my mouth shut, and my fingers flying across a keyboard. Out here with the Bloody Reapers, knowledge is power, and as the resident hacker, I wield it like a damn weapon. They see the blonde hair, the worn leather, and the way I can hotwire a bike faster than most can change a tire. They don’t see the grey matter churning, the calculations running, the escape routes already mapped out in my head. They don't need to. All they need to know is that I can get the job done, that I'm loyal, and that I'm damned good at keeping secrets - especially my own.