End of the Walker (The Walker Series Book 5)

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End of the Walker (The Walker Series Book 5) Page 1

by Coralee June




  End of the Walker

  CoraLee June

  Copyright © 2019 by Megan Harris

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For those that have loved me when I’m difficult to love.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by CoraLee June

  Chapter One

  Dormas was gone. Completely gone.

  I stood in the dirt, staring out over the destruction with a deep slump to my shoulders. Ahead of me was nothing but ash and billows of smoke filling the afternoon sky. Little embers were still eating at the collapsed buildings, taking the ashes and consuming them whole.

  Based on the level of destruction, we assumed that Dormas burned to the ground last week. The moment word got out that Cavil was dead, the empire had erupted in chaos. His loyal guards destroyed the town without reason, probably as some half-assed attempt at retribution. It was no secret that the Dormas Leadership Council was responsible for his death. Everyone knew he was keeping Cyler and Maverick captive.

  For the last few weeks, Resistance groups, Scavengers, and Walkers alike all banded together to fight what was left of Cavil’s men. They had weapons, but we had heart.

  Well, our allies had heart. Mine was beating, yes, pumping blood through my malnourished and exhausted body. But I wondered if the thing banging against my chest actually felt anything these days, if it were still really capable of emotion. Because if I had a heart, shouldn’t I feel guilty about killing Commodore Cavil?

  I didn’t. I really didn’t. And now that I was looking out over what was left of our home, I wished I could do it again. I never thought I’d be the type to approve of murdering, but I felt nothing except relief to have Cavil’s blood on my hands.

  The other companions abandoned us the first chance they got, and I didn’t blame them. Madam B was killed during the riots. Kemper said he saw her murdered by stray heat. It was hard to think that all that was left of the passionate, hardened, and boisterous woman was dust. Her home was destroyed, too. We never knew for sure what had happened to Jade, though. We all assumed that she was still in Cavil’s building when it exploded. Blythe, Lowe and I mourned the loss of our spunky friend, they more so than I. But once again, loss was common in the empire. It bonded us but also tore us apart. Now that the job was done, there was no real need for us to be together. Our camaraderie was circumstantial and crumbled at the first sign of adversity.

  We stopped the transport and parted ways with a simple nod. Later on, I regretted it; I should have insisted that we stick together. Alliances were crucial, and there was something to be said about safety in numbers. But at the time, I was too focused on Cyler and Maverick. My, how I’d come a long way from being the timid little Walker girl of Galla. It was every man or woman for themselves. And I only had enough emotional capacity for the six men I loved, Jules, Mia, and Payne. Loving people was a dangerous game at the end of the world.

  “Babe, come on,” Cyler said while drawing me out of my thoughts of that fateful night and reaching out to grab me. He looked abnormally pale, and I noticed how his hands trembled when he brushed his fingertips along my skin. I knew his exhaustion was a side effect of the death pill. It took him and Maverick much longer to wake up than it took me. Their bodies liked the idea of death a little more than they loved living. I spent almost two days staring at their chests, praying that they’d wake up, while Huxley drove us to the Scavenger camp where Payne was supposed to be.

  I still remembered crying in a heap on the floor, begging them not to die. In a moment of weakness, I pleaded to Josiah to give them back. I wasn’t a religious woman; the empire had given that up centuries ago. But I knew that my childhood friend gave me my men back. Or maybe I was crazy.

  I’d never forget the disappointment I felt when we found the camp abandoned. Now we had no idea where Payne was or if he were even alive. Chief Aarav and Mia were missing, too. I’d never seen Jules cry, but she sobbed at the sight of the abandoned tents and debris. Hell, I even felt a pang of disappointment at the idea of Mistress Stonewell being gone. I had the closure I craved, but despite everything, I felt a sense of responsibility for her. So we did the only thing we could think to do.

  We went home.

  “I just want to look a little while longer,” I said while taking in our ruined home. I wanted to soak in the destruction so it felt real. For so long, I dreamed of coming back here, of walking down the street and resuming my job at the bakery while spending my nights with my men. But that dream seemed so out of reach now. We had a cure to find. A town to rebuild. A sense of trust to reestablish. I looked over my shoulder at Huxley, who was standing watch, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked back at me with those challenging eyes. “I miss it,” I whispered before turning back to look at where Black Manor would have stood.

  “Well, it’s gone,” Jules said to my right, kicking at a rock on the ground before spitting in the dirt. She’d come a long way from the girl that I met back in Galla just a few months ago. She was wearing trousers and a smile, looking at her burned downtown like it was a challenge, not a problem. Jules thrived. I’d never seen her so alive or so determined to hunt and fight her way through the crumbling empire. She’d changed a lot in the last few months, and our friendship had grown, too. I couldn’t tell if she was jealous or proud that it was I who delivered the deadly blow to Cavil.

  I let out a slow exhale before turning to walk towards Kemper. He was rifling through a pile of trash, looking for anything that might be useful. “You okay?” I asked. He’d designed most of this town. Built it from the ground up with his bare hands in homage to his grandfather. Seeing it destroyed must have been devastating for him.

  “It can be rebuilt,” he said with a simple shrug. I knew there was more behind his response. He was just as burdened by the wreckage as the rest of us. The only difference was he liked having a purpose and couldn’t wait to make things perfect again.

  “Can it?” I asked. Kemper stopped sorting through debris to look at me. Grabbing my hands, he then pulled me into a hug before whispering in my ear.

  “Of course it can, Ash. The only thing you can’t rebuild is a person. And the only people I care about are here.” I thought back to the bracelet they got me for my birthday, that day now felt so far away. The inside engraving had said “Home is wherever you are.” And now, looking out at what little was left of Dormas, that saying felt more authentic than ever. My men were my home. They were my safe place. I knew that Kemper was right, and as he held me there in what used to be the middle of the road of Dormas, I stole what little comfort he could provide. I let it seep through my skin and settle in my bones. There was a chill in the air, an ominous warning that winter was upon us.
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br />   "Is anything salvageable?" I asked. Jacob was standing off in the distance, looking at what used to be our home. Black Manor was nothing more than a pile of rubble. He tucked his hands into his grey pants and kicked at a fallen piece of timber. His beard had grown some, and his broad shoulders seemed even more muscular now since he’d been moving the rubble and saving anyone trapped. Every town we arrived at was always the same. Nothing was left.

  "It's all salvageable. But for now, we might have to go to old Dormas," Kemper answered me.

  Jules popped her neck, rolling her head around before speaking. "Didn't we leave that town because it was infected? We should probably stay away, shouldn't we?" Her voice was patronizing, a tone I had come to expect from her. Tallis made her bold and brave, but her need to be right made her anxious, like she had something to prove.

  Cyler dusted his hands off on his black denim jeans before answering her. "Everywhere is infected, Jules." I stared at Cyler, who had pulled his long black hair up into a ponytail and was staring back at me. He was still tall and impressive, but it broke me to see his pale skin and slumped shoulders. He was right, though. Every town we’d come to was nothing but infected Walkers. Sometimes we had to just stay in the transport to avoid coming into contact with any of them. The disease was spreading faster than ever before, now that the cure was obsolete.

  I looked behind me just in time to see Maverick emerge from what was left of the clinic. His hands were full of various first-aid kits, but even from here, I could tell that none of it was of use. "They cleared most of it out," he said with a frown before setting it down on the ground at his feet. His red hair was knotted and full of soot, but his brown eyes still flickered with hope despite the burden on his shoulders. I observed the black circles under his eyes; calculating how much longer he could go before needing to rest.

  "Well, let's go check out old Dormas." My eyes fluttered to Cyler's for a moment, remembering that old motorcycle ride we once took. That moment in the treehouse seemed so far away now. I missed the simplicity of it. It was a place where Cyler was strong, and the only thing between us was worry that we couldn't make the group relationship work.

  "Always wanted to take you back to that treehouse, Babe," Cyler said with a smile. He was trying to lighten the mood, and I appreciated him for it.

  "Maybe this time we’ll actually make good use of it," I boldly replied, not even surprised at how much I had changed over these last few months. I’d come to appreciate that every moment was precious. You never knew when it could be your last, so I made sure to take each little bit from my men that I could.

  Shuddering, Jules shook her head before grabbing Tallis’ hand. "Gross. Can you at least pretend to have a sense of tact?" she asked while wrinkling her nose. Tallis, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered. He’d grown more stoic over the last few weeks, allowing Jules to take the lead. But he winked at me then, in that quiet, playful way I’d come to expect. I winked back. It was the little moments of normalcy that made all of this bearable.

  Patrick started coming up the drive, destruction covering the road on both sides of him as he carried various items in his arms. He had gone down to the train station, checking to see if he could salvage anything, and it looked like he did. I stared at his towering figure, appreciating the way his clothes clung to his frame. Huxley jogged up to meet him and took a few of the supplies from his arms. Despite the sadness and the sense of loss we all felt, my twins looked ready to take on the world, Huxley with his fierce expression, and Patrick with his optimistic outlook on life. Together they could probably rule the empire if they wanted to.

  "You okay?" Huxley asked in a gruff voice before stopping in front of me. I looked at what he was holding: a few canned goods and a hammer. Nothing we could really use but still something of worth.

  "I know I didn't live here for long, but I’m still sad. I can't imagine how you feel." I rubbed my arm while looking around once more. Patrick set down some of his supplies next to me, then placed his hand at my chin, gently lifting my face up to meet his gaze.

  "This could be a good thing," Patrick, ever the optimist, said. “We could build a giant mansion now. I’m thinking a huge kitchen so you could make cake all day.” At his words, my stomach grumbled. I’d been trying to ignore the hunger pains. The scarcity of food and other supplies made them heavily rationed so we had to be careful with how much we ate. He gave me a stern but playful look that told me he heard that then set the supplies in his arms on the ground before digging in the pocket of his cargo pants. He produced a handful of nuts and berries left over from our lunch earlier. I had seen him save them and now understood he was setting them aside for me.

  “Eat,” he ordered while handing them out to me. I grabbed the handful and kissed his cheek in thanks.

  Jacob walked towards us then looked at the ground where Patrick had discarded his stuff. The monotone voice from his mindspeak broke out against the silence. "That's seriously all that was left? We are definitely fucked."

  Huxley reached around Patrick to flick Jacob on the ear. "Can you turn the thing off? We have to pretend at least to be optimistic here, man."

  Jacob blushed slightly before reaching up to pull it from his ear, but I grabbed his wrist. I liked Jacob's unfiltered honesty. I preferred it to false promises. "Leave it on. You know I like hearing what you think," I said softly before throwing him a small smile.

  "Come on," Cyler interrupted before Jacob’s mindspeak could respond to my declaration. "Let's go check out the old town before it gets dark. We’ll need to set up camp, and Ash needs to eat again." A part of me was tired of how much they kept fussing over me, but the other part appreciated Cyler's thoughtfulness.

  They all started heading towards the transport where Jules and Tallis were already patiently sitting. I stayed behind for a moment longer, looking over the destruction while wondering where the people of Dormas were now. Had they died? Was anything really still the same?

  After Cavil died, the riots started. At first, it was to overthrow his army, but then people stopped knowing what it was they were fighting for. They were mad. Mad at the empire. Mad at the powerful man that got us in this situation. Mad at the disease that had taken so many lives. Mad at the cure for its false promises. They went through mindless rage, burning everything in their path. And if the Walkers weren't wandering the streets of the empire, then the violent rioters were. It felt like there was nothing left but my men and me.

  However, the worry on all of their faces told me that wasn't true. There were lots of enemies left. And now that word was out that Payne held the answer to our cure and that Maverick was probably the only man left alive smart enough to crack it, we had large targets over our head for the people still clinging to hope instead of their anger.

  Kemper stayed next to me, running a hand through his blond hair while we both stared out one last time. We would rebuild. I knew we would. It just didn't make the hurt go away. Dormas represented my freedom. Dormas was my refuge from heartache—from my life of servitude. Dormas was where I found myself, and it was where I left my heart, too. It's where I broke it up into pieces and gave it away to six men.

  But home wasn’t a place, it was people. If anything, this experience had taught me that.

  Behind me, the transport door slammed shut, causing the noise to echo throughout the deserted town. I squeezed my eyes closed, the sounds reminding me of Cavil's bedroom. It didn't sound like bone crunching, but even the hint of violence brought my mind back to that place. A shiver traveled through my body, remnants of the adrenaline that once flooded through my system. I never thought I was capable of murder, never thought I was capable of such an act. And now my mind kept going back to that place, reliving the horrors of what I was capable of. Again, I didn't regret it. But I couldn't help but feel fearful of the girl that killed Commodore Cavil. She was strong, but she was mindless and angry. She didn't feel like me at all.

  A hand grabbed my wrist and turned me into a hug. I was stiff w
ith adrenaline and fear but quickly melted into the warmth of Kemper's embrace. He kept doing little things like this, bringing me out of these memories and comforting me with words of affirmation that I was still the girl he fell in love with. Kemper, my perfectionist. My fixer.

  I wondered if he would still love me if he'd seen what I did.

  "You're here. You're safe," he whispered over and over. I let him comfort me even though sometimes I wondered if I deserved it. I liked being affected by what I did. In some ways, although it tortured me, it still reminded me that I was alive. That I was human. I was thankful for my humanity because it showed me that I wasn't completely swallowed up by the rage I felt whenever I thought of the evil men that destroyed this empire and enslaved people.

  "I love you, Kemp," I whispered.

  "I love you too, Ash."

  Chapter Two

  The old town wasn’t quite what I remembered. Back when Cyler had taken me to see it, the place seemed run down. I was viewing it through the lens of someone that had the new Dormas to compare it to.

  But now, I noticed that the bones of this town were excellent. There was a hidden optimism in the moss-covered brick and abandoned rooms. It was the things that looked the most beat down that brought the best hope. There was potential.

  "It's still here," Jules said in shock. We had all filed out of the transport and were looking around, part of us not knowing where to start but also feeling thankful for something to do and a place to be.

 

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