Wings of the Walker: The Complete Walker Series

by Coralee June

  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 province. 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 own 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, Maverick,” 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 province 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 s
hift 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 like 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, let's 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 .

  Chapter Ten

  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 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 at 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 .

  The announcer clicked her tongue and stared out into the crowd until everyone went silent again. "Let the bidding begin," she said in a sing-song voice.

  The woman slowly maneuvered the various amounts of money thrown her way, and as the number rose, I fought the urge to snap my head around to see who was offering each amount.

  7,000

  10,000

  12,000

  “Fifteen thousand Drachmas!” my father’s voice bellowed across the room, causing shocked silence to inflate around us. An attendant walked towards him, carrying a metal case, and my father placed the tip of his greasy thumb upon the scanner to unlock it. The box was then opened, revealing stacks of gold sheets. Father waved his arms, presenting the ridiculously large sum of money towards the crowd.

  “SOLD!” the woman replied with a clap and a broad grin. The young girl flinched, and I laughed at her skittishness. Girls were so weak.

  We traveled to a back room behind the stage. My father was directed to sign a thick stack of papers as he spoke to the woman. “An immune Walker is rare. My colleagues will be jealous,” Father said gleefully.

  “Oh yes, you definitely will be the talk of the province. Lackley himself is the only other man within two hundred miles to own an immune Walker.” The woman gave us a broad grin, and I noticed her red lipstick stuck to her pearly-white teeth.

&n
bsp; “While you read through the last of the papers, I’ll attach your tag. It’s microchipped, so you’ll know where she is at all time. Some people shave the sides of their Walker’s head so it’s fully visible, but it’s a personal preference, of course,” the woman said while producing a white handheld machine. She walked over to the Walker and forced her to lay down on an end table.

  “This will only hurt a bit dearie.” Her voice was overly chipper while she slipped the Walker’s ear through two of its prongs. “ Prepare yourselves, sirs, they tend to scream a lot,” she whispered to Father and I. He rolled his eyes, but I clamped down hard to prevent any screams from creeping through.

  “One, two, and…,” the woman said before a hissing noise with a loud clip erupted through the room. The little girl started whimpering and released a gasp. She didn’t scream, but I noticed how her face slipped into a look of agony.

  The woman wiped a few drops of blood from the Walker’s cheek, then scanned the bronze tag cuffed to the outer ridge of her ear. “You’re strong,” the woman noted. “Good, you’ll need it,” I heard her whisper while peering up at Father.

  “Yes, well, there we have it. I’ve sent her digital signal to you. She’s all yours,” the woman said at a normal volume with a smile. Father continued to read over the paperwork and his legal obligations.

  I took advantage of his distraction and went over to the Walker, who seemed frozen. She briefly touched the brass clip permanently attached to her ear and scrunched her eyes closed in sadness.

  “Uh—Hi, I’m Josiah,” I said in a low voice. Although Father’s earlier words about Walker’s unworthiness were still fresh in my mind, the curiousness of the little girl didn’t escape me. Mother always says I must introduce myself to everyone. “What’s your name?”

  “Ashleigh.” Her voice was small, timid. Her eyes, red from days of crying. I remembered that her mother and father died. “Wh-why was everyone f-fighting over me?” she asked with a squeak. I glanced back at my father then stepped closer to her. She seemed sad and broken and for some reason, I wanted to fix it.