Wings of the Walker - CoraLee June Page 0,96

on the infected Walker. I knew if my eyes connected with Huxley’s, I would lose my nerve and not follow through with my insane plan.

Each step I made felt heavy with tense anticipation. The Walker continued to drag herself down the strip. Not once did she notice me walking towards her. Huxley continued to yell at me, begging me to stop, and I heard the slamming of windows as they opened. I felt the eyes of the entire province on me as I made my way towards her.

Once I was finally in front of the infected walker, I noticed scarring hidden behind sores on her face, indicating that she was once a Scavenger. Her black clothes were damp with blood, and I heard a muffled cry from the blankets she held.

Her bloodshot eyes were vacant yet penetrating, and I caught the sliver of relief flash through her expression before she collapsed clumsily to her knees. Blood droplets seeped down her skin, and the dry dirt hungrily accepted her offering. Still, the bundle of blankets remained clutched to her heaving chest.

I knelt so that we were eye level. I timidly reached my hands out towards her and grabbed the wool blanket from her weak arms. Slowly breaking eye contact with the Walker, I studied the bundle in my arms. It was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. White hair framed its plump cheeks. Its heart-shaped lips were cracked, indicating dehydration. The baby appeared to be only a few months old, and I thanked whatever god that was watching that I had listened to my gut.

I peered back up at the infected Walker who was wavering where she sat. I saw the hint of a smile grace her busted and bloody lips before she coughed; blood splattered all over the baby and me.

"Ash, please move," Huxley pleaded in a sad voice. I looked back at him and saw that he had his arrow aimed and ready. The reality of my situation made a stabbing grief prickle beneath my skin.

Once again, I looked at the Walker woman. She was in the final stages of her disease and should have easily died days ago. Her strength and resolve spoke volumes about her love for the child in my arms. I wanted to remember everything about this profound woman that, against all odds, did everything she could for her child.

I nodded an unspoken promise to the Walker woman, one that said I would care for her child, and that it was okay to let go. It was okay to cross the threshold into peace, knowing that her baby was cared for.

I stood while carrying the baby, and made my way back down the street and towards the Clinic where Maverick was. As I passed Huxley while holding the baby, I saw him grimace. We exchanged a wordless exchange full of pain and promise.

Just before I entered the Clinic, I heard the sound of a blade slicing through the air and a thick guttural groan as it hit its intended target. I clutched the baby tighter as it let out a heartbreaking whimper.

Maverick was ready for me when I opened the door, wearing a devastated expression.

"Bring the baby back here. I'll get an IV ready, and we can run some blood tests to check for immunity," he said in a solemn tone.

I knew that the odds of this baby surviving were slim to none, but I was determined to do whatever I could to care for it. The infected Walker woman defied all odds and delivered the baby safely to Dormas. I was going to fulfill her unspoken wishes.

Huxley joined us shortly after Maverick hooked the baby up to a monitor and got an IV set up. It would take an hour to determine if the baby was immune or not, and once we knew, we could make decisions on what to do next. I stared at the sleeping baby with wonder while pleading with God that she was immune like me. The alternative would be devastating.

"I didn't see the baby. I could have killed him," Hux murmured.

"Her," I interjected. “It's a girl." I wondered what her name was.

"Ah, Ashleigh. The tests are running as we speak," Maverick began. He exchanged a cautionary look with Huxley. "But I just want you to prepare yourself . . .”

I wasn't ignorant of the facts. I knew the survival rates. I was well aware of the percentages of immune individuals. It was a narrative I’d been told