Wings of the Walker - CoraLee June Page 0,46

stay close to us.” I nodded. “We will keep you safe, Ash.” My nickname rolled off his tongue, and I felt a strange urge to hug him, but instead, he walked out of my room, and I laid down and allowed exhaustion to overcome me.

Chapter Eighteen

The next morning, I snuck out early to go to the dormitories where Maverick was administering vaccinations and making sure each male Walker was physically able to work in the mines. The long walk gave me time to think about Josiah’s rushed visit and consider how I wanted to handle things with him. All the pain, tension, and love between us was too much to handle, and I needed time to consider what I wanted from him.

I heard Patrick calling my name, and I turned to see him running towards me, carrying a basket of what I assumed to be breakfast.

“Hey, sugar. I went to get you this morning but was surprised to find that you had already left,” he roared. Once we were closer, he said in a lower and softer tone. “I’d prefer that you didn’t walk alone while we have visitors. Please wait for one of us in the future.” He stared at me with wild eyes. I saw a firm determination there that made me feel safe and secure. It was a sense of stability that I needed with all the events of the past month.

I nodded my head yes. I was unused to having a group of people so concerned with my wellbeing. “What are you doing today?” I asked politely.

“I’m keeping an eye on you,” he answered with a grin. “I’m also going to assess the new Walkers your pal Josiah brought. Maverick has some . . . concerns . . . about their ability to work.” He said cryptically.

“What kind of concerns?” I asked.

“None that you should worry about,” he replied hastily. “You know, Huxley is the one that asked me to look after you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that he was starting to not hate you,” he said with a laugh.

I chuckled at the thought. “Huxley just wants what’s best for you all. He’s navigating grief and guilt. I think I understand him more than anyone here.” I admitted. The truth in my admission startled me. Huxley was rough and mean, but he was fiercely protective of this town and his friends. Patrick interrupted my thoughts.

“Is it weird that I’m relieved to hear you say that?” he asked, and I looked over at Patrick curiously. “I’m happy that someone sees Huxley for who he truly is.”

We continued to walk in silence. For me, I saw a version of myself in Huxley the moment his frustrated and picky eyes cast themselves upon me. It seemed that I had everyone figured out but Patrick.

“Who are you, Patrick? I mean really. I feel like I haven’t gotten much of an opportunity to get to know you these past couple weeks.”

Patrick sighed and considered my question while we walked.

“I’m who Huxley was before,” he answered. “It's like Huxley absorbed all my grief when our parents died. He didn’t allow me to feel pity or sadness. He took on responsibility for our group in the only way he knew how–by shouldering our burdens and feeling so sad that there was no more of the emotion left for the rest of us.” In not talking about himself, Patrick revealed everything I needed to know about him. He was intuitive and caring. “I see my brother, and it kills me, so I’m the one that balances him out. I keep positive,” he added.

“I’m sorry about your parents,” I whispered while battling my own grief. This world had so much loss.

“Thank you,” Patrick replied. “They passed when Huxley and I were ten. It’s been a while since I’ve spoke of them.” Patrick then picked at his nails. It was a nervous tick I’d noticed that he had. “A group of desperate savages attacked our town, searching for supplies,” Patrick continued. “Both my parents were lost in the skirmish, and we moved in with Cyler and Maverick. We’re all a bunch of orphans,” he admitted sadly.

I wanted to know what happened to everyone’s families but was too afraid to ask. I assumed that they would reveal it to me on their terms.

“Honestly, Pat. I think you have the harder job,” I said.

Patrick immediately stopped walking and turned to face me.

“What do you mean?”

“I think it's easy to allow the grief of others