Wings of the Walker - CoraLee June Page 0,240

tent. He paused at the entrance, though, and turned to look at me over his shoulder.

“If you see my mom, can you tell her I miss her?” he asked. I shouldn’t make promises I couldn’t keep. I knew that there were consequences for building up expectations in a child’s mind when the world was ending.

Yet, I couldn’t help myself. “If I see her, I’ll bring her back.”

Payne bit his lip to hide his grin, but I saw it anyways. And despite the nagging feeling in my chest that I would fail him, I lightened at his happiness.

“Bye, Ash,” he said before disappearing into their tent.

I turned to look at Linda Stonewell. I didn’t expect to exchange any heartfelt words of comfort and closure. She wouldn’t hug me goodbye or offer me forgiveness for her son’s death.

“Well, get on with it then,” I said, preparing myself for another one of her insults.

“Companions are a completely different breed of Walker. They’re coy and flirtatious. They are put together like an Elite but lack the same restrictions.”

I was surprised by her comments and felt unsure of where this was going. “Keep your eyes down, but don’t do that annoying thing you do when you clutch your dress in your fist. There’s an underlying confidence in the way a Companion is submissive.”

Instinctually, I lowered my gaze, feeling unsure of how to navigate this seemingly helpful conversation. Where was the insult? The pain? The feeling of unworthiness she so easily forced onto me?

“I never liked you. A pretty, little, immune Walker. A pet. Just another trophy on my husband’s mantle I had to compete with. Josiah clung to you, but I don’t think it was ever really love. My son was so starved for affection, he stole it from wherever he could. I failed him in that regard. He wanted me to be the bad guy. He wanted to blame me for Lackley’s influence in his life, but he craved a father just as much as I craved a husband. You know who the real victim is in all of this?”

I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. This was the most authentic conversation Mistress Stonewell and I had ever had, and I was equal parts broken and thankful. Linda never respected me enough to tell me the truth. I was never deserving of her time nor her effort. These words hurt, they cut me to the bone, but it also meant that she found me worthy of her honesty.

“No one. No one is the victim. We all are a product of the decisions we make, and we all have to suffer the consequences. I’m not going to give you my forgiveness. Nor am I going to wish you luck. The greatest lesson I could ever give you is to never seek validation from others.” With that ominous statement, Mistress Stonewell left me to join Payne in their tent. And for the first time since knowing her, I didn’t leave feeling bad about myself.

The next morning, there was a strange mix of fear and anticipation in the air. We’d spent the evening not talking about last night or the inevitable danger ahead of us. Aarav and a tired looking Mia met us in the camp center to say goodbye. She was pale but stubbornly trying to stand. Luckily, Aarav kept his hand on her shoulder, gently encouraging Mia to sit in the makeshift wheelchair they’d made out of a repurposed wagon.

Jules hugged Mia tightly, and for a moment I felt envious of their friendship. The Resistance had bonded them. Adjusting my pack higher up on my shoulder, I shuffled closer and grinned when Mia’s face brightened.

“Ah, my Agrio! Look at you, dressed to kill and ready to take on the empire,” she joked while holding her arms out for me to hug her. I leaned down and wrapped my arms around my Scavenger friend, breathing in her woodsy scent and reveling in the contact. “Do you remember what your name means?” Mia asked while pulling away. “It means Wild One. Remember that there is structure even in the wild. Act with intention. Take time to think, and give ’em hell.”

My eyes watered a bit, and Huxley bent down to give his dear friend a hug as I went to see Payne. Linda had opted to sleep-in this morning, but I wasn’t bothered by her absence. I was taking her advice to heart, I wasn’t seeking her approval anymore.

“You listen to Mistress Stonewell,” I said while smoothing his light