Heart of the Walker (The Walker Series Book 2)

by Coralee June

  “Yes, yes, well this is all very exciting, but you forget,” I said while rubbing my shoulder and neck. “I might be attracted to them, but there’s no guarantee that one of them, let alone all of them, return those feelings. They’re firm in their resolve to treat me like a sister.” Well, maybe not Patrick—there was definitely nothing sisterly about what happened between us. “Not to mention, we’re on the brink of war, and I’m still finding my way out of Josiah’s shadow.” Saying what truly bothered me caused a fierce melancholy to dig its tendrils down deep into my chest.

  Mia slowed her pace, and her mocking expression morphed into something that resembled understanding. Her pale arm snaked around mine. Her fingers lightly dug into my skin, causing me to stop and stare at her.

  “Huxley told me about Josiah,” Mia said with sad eyes. I opened my mouth to ask her when, how, and why but she held up a hand to cut me off. “Huxley’s my best friend; we tell each other everything—get used to it. I know that you definitely shouldn't worry about any of them liking you, hell, those boys are half way to being in love with you. As for the war, now is the perfect time to act on whatever feelings you have, because tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.”

  She squeezed my arm harder and peered at me with sad, yet stoic eyes. “And Josiah? You should probably figure that out, and soon, because it’s no longer just your heart on the line.”

  I remained quiet and let each revelation wash over my consciousness. Some part of me knew that, no matter what, this limbo would crash and burn. We couldn't continue to tiptoe over the line. The small touches, the hugs, the cuddling… it would all eventually lead to something more. I just needed to learn how to navigate this with care. Mia was right; there was a lot at stake. Not only was my heart on the line, but their cohesiveness as a group was, too.

  Mia and I ended up spending the day at the General store, where after some curious stares and questions, Lois welcomed her with open arms and a ton of work. We both spent hours giggling over the guys while painting toys for the Walker children.

  Chapter Eight

  The next day, I woke with a renewed spirit. Kindle's death and my guilt still lingered, but I felt a new purpose about everything. I decided that my first step in reasserting myself meant that I needed to overcome my reservations about the clinic and visit Maverick.

  Like the others, Maverick had been distant since the Guard’s escape and Kindle’s death. I felt his patient, martyred coldness deeper than the others, even more so than Jacob, and I was determined to find out why.

  So much had changed since Maverick and I guided that Walker woman to her death, and I still felt the pull of grief and sadness whenever I got near the cumbersome clinic. Maverick and I bonded deeply the last time I ventured here. I learned of his selfless heart, and I watched his sobering disenchanted views about death. He approached her passing like a frequent spectator of grief.

  Once inside the Clinic, I shouted for Maverick but heard no response. After swallowing a few gulps of courage, I began making my way towards the back room where it all began. Where it all ended.

  I passed the room where the Walker woman took her last breath, and I shuddered. The room was vacant and silent, but still felt filled to the brim with the presence of her.

  Once I made my way further down the hallway, I noticed a cracked door and a bright, manufactured blue light seeping and splintering through the edges. I made my way there and opened the door. Inside, Maverick was sitting in an overstuffed office chair in front of six large screens, each projecting different codes and models of what appeared to be twisting ladders. He had headphones over his ears. I carefully took a broad path, so as not to startle him.

  Once he saw me, he ripped off the headphones and appraised me with wide, frantic eyes. “Ash! What’s wrong, what’s going on? Are you hurt?” He got up and grabbed my shoulders and made quick work of inspecting every square inch of me. His broad palms ran down my arms and over my hips in a rushed examination. I briefly reveled in his close contact before distancing myself.

  “What are you talking about? I’m fine. I just came to visit you,” I explained with a half-smile. I realized the awkwardness of showing up unannounced and regretted bombarding him. Maverick exhaled in brief relief before scrutinizing me again. His brow sunk, and his dark eyes appraised me in concern.

  “You never come to the Clinic, not since, well—not since the Walker woman died.” Maverick looked down at his feet, as though contemplating telling me something. His kind eyes rose to meet mine, and I saw a sad resolve within his gaze that made my breath stall. “I meant to tell you; I finally was able to pull her file from Galla and learn her name—Rose. Her name was Rose Jamison,” he said solemnly. I admired Maverick at that moment. Despite everything going on, he went through the trouble of finding a name for the nameless.

  “That's a beautiful name,” I whispered. Maverick nodded his head in response and looked at the floor.

  “What brings you here, Ash?” He motioned for me to sit in his office chair. I plopped down, and he leaned against his desk next to me. He wore a deep maroon shirt tucked into tan pants that clung tightly to his frame.

  “You’ve been detached lately. I’ve wanted to talk to you since the night Kindle died. But I haven’t seen you,” I explained. Maverick plucked a brightly colored rubber band that sat on his wrist. It snapped loudly against his skin, and I ached to rub away the sting of it.

  “I don’t mean to be distant, Ash. I’ve just got a lot on my mind. I’m sorry you felt like you had to come here to get my attention.”

  “That's not why I came here, Maverick,” I tried to explain. “I’m here because I—I miss you.” Maverick’s eyes lingered on the far wall. I ached to see his wistful eyes, but instead was swarmed with his sullen speculation.

  Once again, Maverick slapped the rubber band against his wrist, and I immediately clawed my way out of the chair and grabbed it from him, causing it to ping against my own fingers.

  After a long, uncomfortable silence, Maverick spoke. “Dad was convinced he wouldn’t catch influenza X. We took all the necessary precautions. Moving the town away from the infected. Burning the deceased. He researched every aspect of X in every controlled environment imaginable. And yet, without reason, he started to develop the white-hot blisters on his body," Maverick’s large hand grasped his chest. It seemed his words were causing him physical pain.

  "He locked himself in the Clinic, and I knew. I—I knew what it was but didn’t say anything to anyone. I guess I was still too shocked to accept the truth.” Maverick’s voice stumbled over his words, and he started to speak at a faster rate, as though he was desperate to toss out the heartbreak and emotions that consumed him.

  “Then, he succumbed to the last phase of the illness; he truly became a Walker. We have an alarm for when an infected Walker is spotted in the Providence. It lets everyone know to go inside until the threat had passed. It’s an effective system, intended to diminish the spread of the disease,” he said in a methodical manner, and I clung to every syllable Maverick said.

  “The next morning when the bell rang throughout the town center, I knew it was him wandering the streets. My mother was beside herself. Before any of us could stop her, she ran to him and embraced him with a hug and kiss. I—I don’t think I’ll ever get the image of her frail arms wrapped around his bloody body out of my mind,” Maverick said. His words shook, and he pinched his arm as he spoke.

  “She ended his life by stabbing him in the gut with my uncle’s blade, to end his suffering; it was a truly selfless act. Within three days, the first sores began to develop on her own skin, and she ended her life.” Maverick peered down at his shoes, but his gaze was elsewhere.

  “I never told Cyler or Jules that I knew—that I could have stopped Mom from going to him. That I could have been the one to ease his suffering. I was too ashamed. Our Mother did what I couldn’t. She accepted his fate and ran out to join him in death.”

  Tears began to fall down my cheeks as I absorbed
Maverick’s story. “I’m so sorry, Maveric,” I said, sobbing while wondering how deep his mother’s love was for his father. Would I have had the courage to end someone's life?

  “I’m far too familiar with death, Ash,” Maverick whispered.

  I approached him like one would a wild animal—with caution and respect. After maneuvering myself between his opened, outstretched legs, I rested my head against his thudding heart. My arms instinctively wrapped around him, and after a moment’s pause, he returned my hug with care.

  “I’m determined to finish my father’s work. To replicate the cure and free our Providence from the Empire’s clutches. I want to mass produce the cure, I want to completely eradicate X,” he growled with a resolve that I felt in my bones. “When Kindle was murdered, it reminded me that there is no time for distractions, there’s too much at stake.” His words sank through me like lead, and I immediately distanced myself.

  I was the distraction he spoke of. It was my birthday he was attending when Kindle was murdered and the Galla Guards escaped. I took two giant steps backward to distance myself from the blow of his words. My mind collapsed into an agonized womb of consciousness. I understood Maverick’s feelings and wholeheartedly agreed that he should focus on finding the cure, but I still felt sad. It didn’t mean that I couldn’t feel sorrow or even longing. It just meant that now was not the time to act upon it.

  “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” He stretched out his arm to touch the side of my face, but I distanced myself more, avoiding his touch.

  “I care for you, Maverick. For all of you. And I’m no stranger to patience. I understand what you need to do; I respect what you need to do. But I don’t have to like it. I don’t have to sit here and pretend that I’m okay with you distancing yourself from me,” I said while wrapping my arms around my midsection as if to hold the emotions I felt at bay. “I’m not asking for your undivided attention. I’m just asking for a sliver of it. Don’t push me away. Let me help you.” I felt the pangs of rejection attach themselves into my confidence.

  “You’re not the distraction I spoke of, Ash. At least, not in the way you’re thinking,” Maverick bit out with worried eyes. Once again, he reached for me, but this time I allowed his fingers to grab onto my arms.

  “Jealousy is a distraction. Repressing my feelings for you, is a distraction.” His words washed over me, and I scooted closer. “I care for you, Ashleigh, probably more than I should. I just need to work on it all. It feels like there’s never enough time.” Maverick’s intensity consumed me, and I yearned to explore the possibilities of his intentions with me.

  This subtle switch in the dynamic between us was still very new, and I was more than willing to wait it out and let it evolve on its own terms. I was just happy to know that I wasn’t the only one feeling this anticipation, this craving.

  “As far as helping me,” he said, “I’m glad you offered. I was hoping to use a sample of your blood. Since you have natural immunity, we might be able to use it to figure out the last element to the vaccine.” The sudden shift in topics gave me whiplash, and I shook my head to rid myself of the dazed possibilities in his previous words.

  He gently grabbed my shoulders and directed me to face the computer monitors. Models of different objects and gene sequences scrolled vertically on the screen, and occasionally an alert would pop up, indicating that something of importance was discovered.

  “I’m so close, Ash,” he murmured while watching the various codes roll around liked digital waves on his screen. His eyes scanned the confusing figures, seeking out the answers to this terrible disease.

  “I’ll help. I’ll do whatever you need,” I replied honestly and with more force than necessary. I rolled up my sleeve and held out my thin arm to Maverick which made him chuckle.

  “Well, alright then. I don’t usually keep blood draw kits in my pocket, so you’ll have to wait a minute. I would do this in the main room, but, uh—”

  I cut him off. “I’m fine wherever, Maverick. This Clinic is a part of you. I . . . I want to be a part of that. Of you.”

  Maverick looked at me with such awe and respect that my eyes watered. He lifted his hand and scratched his head, causing his red-brown hair to ruffle. “Well, okay then, lets uh—let’s go,” he choked out.

  After Maverick drew my blood, he spent more time half-heartedly explaining to me his research while he held my hand. When he spoke, his eyes lit up with such hope that I, too, saw a future where the X vaccine was accessible and Walkers didn’t exist. A future where the world wasn’t upon his shoulders. A future where we could maybe be more.

  9

  Josiah 16 Years Ago

  Father dragged me to the Walker auctions at the first hint of morning light. My mother refused to attend. She usually had a headache until mid-afternoon on the nights Father hosted dinner parties, and last night Emperor Lackley visited, so it would be at least a week before she recovered. Father was particularly eager to attend this Walker auction, I noticed. He happily munched on his breakfast while describing to me the perks of owning a Walker.

  “All respectable families own Walkers these days, it's simply a necessity,” he said while crumbs of bagel tumbled out of his puffy cheeks and onto the floor of the transport. Father was always messy, and Mother was always scolding him for it.

  “I thought we had to stay away from the Walkers, Father?” I questioned while watching him lick cream cheese from the tips of his pudgy fingers. He scooted backward in his leather seat and pulled on the tight seat buckles that contained his thick frame.

  “Yes, well, these Walkers either have immunity or are willing to trade themselves in exchange for the vaccine. But they’re still trash; unworthy of the space they take up. Understand that, boy?”

  I nodded in understanding. My eight-year-old mind soaking up every bit of wisdom my father shared.

  Father’s Tablet rang. He answered it and began arguing with whoever was on the other side of the call. He was always arguing with someone. Especially Mother. One might even say that it's his favorite pastime. I noticed that he got a certain gleam in his eyes whenever she cowered from him.

  We continued to travel towards the auction, and I pressed my nose against the cold transport window to see my surroundings better. I found the Walker Zones had just enough mystery and horror to keep my imaginative mind occupied until the Transport parked itself and the doors slid open.

  The building where the Walker Auction was, stood out like a beacon of newness in the rundown Zone. It was ten stories tall and covered in screens that flashed different faces of Walkers hoping to be purchased. The lawn was manicured and the windows shiny but surrounded by run-down shacks with barefoot children running along the road.

  Despite being vaccinated, attendants handed us mouth coverings that slipped over our ears and plastic gloves intended for our hands. Mother always said that you could never be too careful when it came to Influenza X and the nasty Walkers, so I readily accepted them.

  I sat quietly by my father and watched a dozen Walkers stroll onto the metal stage. Their specifications were listed methodically, and one by one, each Walker was auctioned off to the highest bidder. They each wore resigned but hopeful expressions. I tried to focus during the entire ordeal, but still found the auction to be incredibly boring. Father was always chastising my inability to sit still.

  Most of the Walkers were bought, but a few still left the stage in defeat. No one wanted them as servants, which meant they would have to continue on without the vaccine.

  After the stage cleared, I wondered why Father didn’t bid on any of the available Walkers. Plenty of them seemed fine enough, but he remained quiet. Some of the crowd cleared but a few remained. I fidgeted with my coat sleeve and father pinched my arms to keep me still. “Stop fidgeting,” he whispered while grabbing me harder.

  A tall and slender woman with red hair strolled towards the middle of the stage. The woman smiled at everyone still in the auditorium and even winked a
t a few. She wore an emerald gown that dragged upon the floor as she walked.

  “Masters and Mistresses, we have an extraordinary treat for you all today.” She gestured towards the side of the stage where a girl that looked to be about half of my very experienced eight years, was being guided into the bright spotlight next to the fiery-haired woman. The young girl had fuzzy hair and a baggy dress that barely hid how skinny she was.

  I noticed Father perk up, and I, too, watched with interest. There was something special about this girl, something that caught Father’s attention, as well as the focus of the rest of the room, and I wanted to know what.

  “There is more than meets the eye to this little Walker Girl. She’s immune to X.” Several gasps could be heard around the room. Even I knew that Immunity to X was rare, she wouldn't require a vaccine. “She was found clinging to her dead mother and father two days ago in the Walker Zones. It was a very tragic discovery, as you can well imagine.” The woman smiled as she patted the little girl’s head, and I wondered what made her so happy. I looked around and saw that, like my father, everyone seemed to hold their breath at what the woman had to say next.

  "Immunity in a Walker is rare, as I'm sure you all know. It shows that she has good breeding. She also will not be needing the vaccine. Because of that, we will start the bidding at five thousand Drachmas."

  Whispers and murmurs erupted, and I once again looked around the room to see everyone’s reaction when a thick, meaty hand slapped down on my knee. “Pay attention,” my father hissed. I ached to rub the sting away but didn’t want to anger him further—Father’s anger wasn't to something I wanted to test. So instead, I peered at the sad-looking Walker on the stage.