by Coralee June
Soul of the Elite
A Walker Series Novella
Coralee June
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
Acknowledgments
About the Author
For all the misunderstood people of the world.
Chapter One
The musty scent of manure and body odor filled my nose as I crushed my once manicured nails into the soft earth. It was miserably hot, and sweat gathered on my neck, making my black hair cling to my sweaty, salty skin.
I sighed loudly, hoping that, once again, the blonde—whose name I’d already forgotten—would help me finish my work for the day. Each gardener was assigned a section to manage, and my brothers assigned me the largest one with the least amount of shade. The stifling heat made me sick to my stomach. Every moment spent in the gardens felt like literal torture.
“Would you like some help?” my blonde, clingy, roommate asked while chewing on her brassy necklace. Brenda? Beth? She was pretty enough, for a Walker, but she was obnoxious and intrusive— two qualities I especially despised. Not to mention, she had an absolutely ridiculous crush on Kemper, and she made sure to bring it up every chance she got.
“That would be wonderful, Brandy,” I answered in a bored tone while picking dirt from beneath my nails. “After all, you got the smallest section, I suppose it’s only fair that you help with mine.” I looked over at her already-finished section and, once again, cursed my brothers for this ridiculous job.
“It’s Becca,” she mumbled while dragging her scythe over towards me.
Each day was the same; I woke up at the crack of dawn, ate a sad excuse for breakfast, then suffered through six sweltering hours of pretending to work until Becca came over and did it for me.
Most days, she worked slowly, soaking up each moment to chat with me about Kemper. Today, she moved with an energized purpose. At this rate, we might even be finished early, which meant I could claim the shower first.
“So…” she began while hunched over and inspecting the moisture in the wheat grain and squinting her eyes. “Are you and Kemper close?” She looked at me from the corner of her blue eyes. I knew she liked him. I also knew her little crush was the reason she was being so helpful. People rarely went out of their way to be nice without expecting something in return.
Even though I knew her motivations to help me were diluted by the pathetic hope that I could miraculously get Kemper to court her, I hated working in the gardens. So, I’d dangle the hope that I could set them up for as long as she was willing to help. Which, with a bit of luck, would be through the entirety of harvest.
“We grew up together,” I admitted while clumsily gliding my scythe through the wheat. Kemper was too caught up in saving Dormas and his new little Walker whore, Ashleigh, to pay any mind to his best friends’ kid sister. It was Jacob—always Jacob—that I connected with. He saw me, truly saw me. But I wouldn’t be telling Becca that.
“You’re so lucky.” She sighed and fanned herself, a move that had nothing to do with how hot it was and everything to do with her thoughts about Kemper. How terribly embarrassing. Pathetic little Walker, didn’t she know that pining after someone out of her league made her look weak?
“Skimping on your duties, Jules?” A familiar and annoyingly pompous voice called out from behind me. Becca turned and smiled while slowly wiping sweat from her raised brows.
“Hello, Master Maverick! I was just helping your sister. She’s having some trouble adjusting to the heat,” Becca said in a chipper voice. Her eyes roamed up and down his body. I lifted the corner of my lip in disgust at her obvious perusal before turning to meet his disapproving gaze.
“Jules is more than capable of getting her work completed on her own,” he said with a frown. “Go back to the dorms.”
Becca gave me a sympathetic smile before dusting off her hands and walking off. I rolled my shoulders back as I slipped into my usual cool facade. It was my emotional armor. Our last encounter, when I was kicked out of my own home, I let my anger slip. Now I was determined to appear unaffected.
“What are you wearing?” Maverick asked. He rolled his eyes and adjusted a large, brown canvas pack higher up on his shoulder. I looked down at my tan, lace skirt and white crochet top. It was hot and not conducive for all the movement my new punishment required, but it was worth it. I didn’t want these other Walker women thinking I was one of them.
“What do you mean?” I replied with a smirk. “The best designer in Ethros made it.”
“You look ridiculous. Why don’t you wear the uniform we provided you with?” Maverick’s eyes swept over my section of land and puffed out air in exasperation. I was by far the furthest behind.
“I’ll die before I wear trousers, Mav,” I said with a shiver. I’d have to be desperate to wear those drab uniforms Kemper assigned me.
“Always so melodramatic,” he replied and brushed a stray hair from his neck. God, I wish he’d trim it. The long hair was so last season. “Look, I need a favor.”
“A favor or an order?” I asked, my voice cheeky. I absently rubbed my arm. My poor, porcelain skin was covered in peeling, red and pink spots. I was in desperate need of a break from the sun. And an aloe bath.
“Can it be both? Can you just for once have enough respect for me to do what I tell you?” Maverick pleaded, grabbing the scythe Becca left behind, before making quick work of harvesting my section. I bit back a smile. He just couldn’t help but clean up my messes.
“Can you respect me enough to ask?” I sat down and began biting my nails. “You never ask. You and Cyler just order me around. Never listening to what I want.” I had years of bottled up anger just waiting to be unleashed on him.
“Working in the gardens is your punishment,” Maverick began. “A jailer doesn’t ask their prisoner if they're ok with being in prison.”
Always the philosopher. I cringed at his analogy and the accuracy of it.
“Is that what I am now? A prisoner?” I asked.
He cut down another section of wheat. “No. You’re our sister. We just want you to become a decent human being, Jules.” He paused and wiped his brow all while I lazily watched.
“I need you to bring something important to our new Scavengers—" Maverick continued before I cut him off.
“First Walkers, now Scavengers? Goodness Maverick, are we just letting anyone into Dormas now?” I asked while continuing to bite my nails. This was 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 g
ood relationship with their tribe. 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 chief!” 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 educated, refined woman now, but I was still my father’s daughter. I crouched into a ready position.
“The reaction of a warrior. Your brother would be proud,” a smooth voice said from my left.
I immediately turned just as a Scavenger emerged from behind a tree. He had long white hair and scarring in geometric designs all along his naked torso. Tight grey pants stuck to his long, muscular legs. He was lean and observant. His blue eyes never leaving mine, even as I assessed him.
“You’ll need to work on your hearing and sense of direction, though. I’ve been following you for a good twenty minutes.” His mouth tilted into a small smile that made my stomach flip.
“I guess Scavengers don’t know proper manners,” I huffed while straightening my hair and raising my chin. “Any respectable gentleman would make his presence known.” The Scavenger’s smile grew an inch, and despite his sharpened teeth, I couldn’t help but think the gesture softened his wild exterior. He was handsome—for a Scavenger.
“You got me there,” he said with a slight bow. “I’m no gentleman.”
He took another step towards me, and I felt like a wolf trapped in a cage. My Galla tutors taught me all about Scavengers. They were feral and uncivilized. I knew that my fear was well placed and deserved. He stepped closer.
“I must admit, I was curious if you’d eventually find your way to my camp,” he said with a shrug. He took another step closer, grabbing the bag from my shoulder before setting it upon his muscular one.
“Well, I’m simply thrilled that my misdirection was entertaining,” I bit out. “But since you have what you need, I’ll be on my way back now.” I turned and peered through the trees. The sun had already begun its descent, and I was still confused as to where I was.
The Scavenger merely smiled. “Come with me to camp. You can meet the recipient of this generous gift, and then I’ll take you home.” He held out his hand for me to take.
“Fine. But I want to be home within the hour.” I walked up beside him, bumping his shoulder. I expected him to cave under the force of my hit, but instead, it was me that bounced. His muscular, pale arms grabbed me, and he maneuvered us so that we were facing one another. Barely six inches of space was between us. I felt paralyzed by a mixture of fear and…curiosity. He took one of my hands and lifted it to his chest, so that it rested above his heart.
“I’m Tallis,” he whispered. Then, taking his hand, he slowly placed it over my heart. I stilled in discomfort, the heat that came off of him made my senses hum.
“Tallis?” I confirmed while his hand lingered. I was familiar with this primitive greeting between Scavengers. He nodded with a confident smile that made my next move more rewarding. I slowly grabbed his hand, and in one swift, practiced movement, flipped his hand back so that his wrist was strained and helpless against my hold. “Don’t touch me.”
Chapter Two
The Scavenger camp wasn't too far off, but we still suffered through an uncomfortable twenty-minute walk. I stumbled twice over loose vines, my now swollen feet and too-tight shoes a burden in the rough terrain. Tallis' lips lifted in a millimeter of amusement each time I lost my footing. Where I struggled to keep on the thin trail, he navigated the forest with confidence and ease. The loud slap of my uncomfortable shoes drowned out his sure and quiet footsteps.
As he walked, Tallis' crystal blue eyes swept the forest floor with an intense stare. With his head tilted to the left, he strained to hear the quiet movement of the trees as if preparing for an ambush. Living in the Deadlands did that to a man, I suppose.
"Aren't you a bit young to be Chief?" I finally asked as orange tents came into view between the thick branches of the towering trees.
"I passed the trials almost a year ago. I’m the youngest Chief this side of the Empire." Tallis shrugged. Although impressive, Tallis didn't sound boastful or even proud. His tone was sad, regretful almost. He pushed through the thick and thorny bushes. I caught him looking at me from the corner of his eyes as if gauging my reaction.
Curiosity filled me. As a well-known socialite, it was my civic duty to find and share scandalous stories. Information about the process for becoming a Scavenger Chief would definitely get a lot of attention at the next event.
"What are the Chief trials anyways?” I asked. “Do you just mob and pillage the nearest Providence? The one to bring back the most gold wins.” I snorted at my joke. Tallis paused outside the camp as if debating whether he wanted to answer or not. There was a calculating sadness in his eyes.
"It's a series of events that test your ability to become a leader," he explained in a low tone. His shoulders hunched in as
he spoke. I wanted to ask what was so tragic about the trials, but Tallis walked away before I could coax the information out of him.
I stood still for a moment, debating on whether I should try to find my way back to the Walker dorms. This impromptu mission was the most interesting thing to happen in days but associating with Scavengers was downright inappropriate. Maverick wanted me to talk to this Scavenger kid, but I brought him the leg. Wasn't that enough? Completing the minimum requirement of a task was what everyone expected of me. And yet, there was still a small part of me that wanted to exceed expectations, if at least this once.
With a deep breath, I rolled my shoulders back and strolled into camp. My feet ached with each confident step, making me wince. Once in camp, I observed my surroundings with trepidation. Everything looked so unorganized and primitive. Women carrying tin buckets of water on their jutted-out hips sauntered by me with coy smiles. Their white hair blew in the breeze as each took turns looking me up and down with scrutinizing gazes. Daggers with carved handles stuck out of the pockets in their cut off denim. I cringed at the crude fashion choice that showed off their long, pale, legs.
"Are you coming, Agapimenos?" Tallis asked over his shoulder with a smirk. My eyebrows rose as his deep voice floated over a nickname that sounded oddly personal. A nearby Walker woman with braided hair and green eyes giggled at us.
"It's Jules," I corrected. I wiped the sweat from my brow and walked after him. “…and I’m coming. No need to call me names.” I glided after him with unhurried steps. I struggled to navigate the scattered fire-pits, people, and children that ran around. Nothing in their camp was set up for functionality or even convenience. Unlike me, Tallis danced around the chaos with an easy grin before stopping in front of a medium sized tent.