Wings of the Walker - CoraLee June Page 0,364

the most Maverick had spoken to me in months, and I was undoubtedly messing everything up. Good. I stopped hoping for a family the night I ruined everything.

Maverick stopped working and walked over to his bag. After struggling with the zipper, he pulled out a metal rod with hinges in the middle. He inspected the top side of it, then walked it over to me.

“There is a boy. Not a Scavenger or a Walker or a Governor—a boy. He’s nine and lost his leg last year in a hunting accident. I made him this prosthetic leg, and I’d like you to bring it to him,” Maverick explained. My shoulders dropped slightly. I admittedly had a weakness for kids. A trait I probably inherited from Mom.

“Why me?”

"We're working on building a good relationship with their camp. When I visited him two days ago, he wouldn't let me help him. I know if anyone could persuade someone to do anything, it’s you.” Maverick’s tone almost made his words seem like a compliment. I couldn’t help but feel proud at that.

“Well, I can be pretty convincing when I want to be.” I gave him a small smile.

“I know.” Maverick stared at me with eyes full of disappointment. “It’s how we ended up here in the first place.”

Maverick took the knife in my heart and twisted it deeper. I wondered if I’d ever go a day without being reminded of my mistake. Of what I did to Jacob.

“So when do you want me to do this? What kind of idiot doesn’t want to walk?” I choked out, clinging to the subject change. It was easier to be cruel than feel guilt.

“Now, if you can. Do this and I’ll make sure Kemper doesn’t find out that Becca has been doing your work for you,” Maverick said with a smile before helping me stand, putting the prosthetic leg back in his bag and slipping it over my shoulder.

“Fine, where’s the transport?”

“Oh, no. You’ll be walking. I’d hurry. It’ll be dark in an hour or so.” Maverick gave me a satisfied grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. I wanted to challenge him. To ask if he’d let his precious Ash walk alone to the Scavenger camp. But I didn’t.

Arguing with Maverick was pointless, so I simply kicked up some dirt on his tan trousers and began walking towards the new Scavenger camp. Luckily, I overheard Kemper preparing for their arrival and knew exactly where they were.

“Make Tallis walk you back if it gets dark! He’s their leader!” Maverick yelled behind me. Ah. There was the concerned brother I knew and sometimes loved.

The hot sun disappeared beneath the canopy of the trees, and I reveled in the cool shade. The bag got heavy after a while, and I found myself regularly shifting it up higher along my shoulder. I cursed my flashy shoes. The black, sequined straps dug into my swollen feet, and in a moment of weakness, I wished I would have slipped on the ugly, brown work boots Kemper gave me a couple days ago. Why couldn’t I have clothes that were easy to work in but also fashionable?

I welcomed the silence of the woods with open arms. My roommate, Becca, was a loquacious girl that constantly gabbed about how better her life was in Dormas. Her depressing monologues kept stealing the thunder of my pity parties. How could I possibly feel miserable about my life when she kept talking about hers?

However, the silence came at a price. It left my mind no choice but to wander into the darkest parts of myself. I thought of Jacob, Huxley, and the night that ruined it all. The unrequited kiss I forced on Jacob’s lips. My ignored sobs. The lie that changed everything. Huxley’s triggered response.

The forest lacked its original serene tone as I fell victim to the thoughts I was determined to ignore. Each step left me feeling less and less confident in my directional skills. The trees blended into one another, and I watched the sun for guidance, a skill Cyler taught me as a little girl. However, my exhaustion and rising paranoia about being lost made the sun’s position seem to falter and fade into the cumbersome branches and leaves.

I heard a quick snap of wood breaking in two, and I spun in the direction of the noise. Most large game had been hunted out of these woods and pushed into the deadlands, but there was still the occasional drifter. I might be an