by Coralee June
“Ash and I are going on a picnic,” Jacob briefly explained while tossing a purposeful glare towards me. His intensity indicated that he didn’t want Jules to know about our trip to the Deadlands.
“How odd," she observed. "Did the Walker not prepare you a basket?” Jules twirled her glossy raven hair around her thin finger. “I’d love to join you both. The fresh air is simply lovely today, don’t you think, Jacob?” She then took a step closer to him, and I felt my teeth begin to grind against one another with impatience.
I was never one to handle conflict particularly well, and Jules was like a steamroller; she crashed through whatever got in the way of what she wanted—consequences be damned.
“I was hoping for some alone time with Ash,” Jacob said with more force than necessary. Once again, his calloused hand found mine, and I felt reassured by his contact.
“I see," Jules scoffed. "I wasn't under the impression that you both had formed that sort of relationship. I guess she's moved on from her dear Josiah then." Jules gave a calculating smile. "Well, I’ll be heading back home, then. I do truly hope to get some alone time too, Jacob. I—I’d like to talk to you.” Jules gave him a sad look before pushing her perfectly styled hair over her shoulder. She turned around and began walking with a forced, sensual sway along the dirt road back towards the Black Manor, leaving Jacob and me in an awkward silence.
“I’m sorry, Ashleigh,” Jacob rasped.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” I replied as we continued our trek to the train station. “Jules is very persistent.”
“There was a time when she and I were best friends.” His voice held a note of sadness that made my heart thud with an echoing pain. “I wish we could go back to that. It would be so much easier if I loved her back.”
I observed Jacob and noticed his slumped shoulders and bowed head. Having Jules back in Dormas was wearing him down in ways that I couldn’t understand, and I had been too self-absorbed lately to help him. I sensed that Jacob questioned his place here, as well as worried that Jules’ persistence would further tarnish their group dynamic.
“You can’t force yourself to love someone, Jacob,” I gently told him.
“Are you speaking from experience?” He guided me around a large muddy puddle in the middle of the road.
“Not exactly,” I muttered. I focused on the splatter of ruby paint that kissed my thumb, and how it looked beautiful against Jacob’s brown skin. I struggled to formulate into words the thoughts that have been plaguing me for the past few weeks. “It’s more like,” I began, “I have to force myself not to love someone. I have to remind myself that he doesn’t deserve my heart.”
Jacob paused for a moment as if allowing my words to sink in. He stopped walking and pulled me close.
“He doesn’t, you know.” Jacob stepped closer to me. He brushed my curls behind my ear and left a lingering palm against my neck that felt hot and made my skin buzz with anticipation. “A heart like yours should be cherished, sweetheart.”
Before I could respond, a joyful holler startled us and pulled me from our intense conversation. I looked down the road and saw Cyler eying us with amusement.
“I was wondering what was taking you both so long!” He joked in his usual gruff tone that I had grown to adore since my time in Dormas. Cyler was wearing midnight denim pants that clung tightly to his muscular frame and an oversized black t-shirt that still showed off his impressive muscles. His shoulder-length hair was wavy and wild, and his light scruff framed a broad smile. He stepped around Jacob and enveloped me in a crushing and delightful hug.
“Hey, babe,” he mumbled against the thick curls of my hair before inhaling deeply. “You always smell like cake.” He chuckled to himself, and the deep sound brushed against me in a subtle tickle that made me shiver. I giggled and squeezed him back while rising on my tiptoes. “Jacob was hoarding you all to himself when we’ve got important stuff to do!” Cyler joked.
The reminder of these ‘important things’ made my stomach drop and all lightheartedness fade away. We were headed to the Deadlands to secure an alliance with some of the most deadly and wild people in the entire Empire.
“Babe, don’t look at me like that. This’ll be easy!” Cyler boomed.
I wanted to voice my concerns but instead comfortably settled into the crook of Cyler’s muscular arm. I chose to ignore the all-encompassing fear and enjoy my walk with him and Jacob towards the train station.
Chapter Two
Cyler and Jacob kept the conversation light while we walked, and I sensed that they wanted to alleviate my concerns and distract me from the meeting ahead. I debated on asking to stay behind, but quickly extinguished that fleeting thought when I realized it would mean allowing the men I’d grown to care about travel into danger without me. Besides, I was a bit curious about the Scavenger way of life.
When we arrived at the station, Patrick, Huxley, Kemper, and Maverick were unloading various boxes from the cargo trolley. If it weren’t for Cyler’s purposeful strides, as well as the constant reminder that things needed to stay platonic between the seven of us, I might have stopped to appreciate the view.
Patrick and Huxley lifted heavy crates with ease while Kemper bit the end of a pencil and checked off items on the shipping order. Maverick took heaping gulps of water, and I watched as droplets trickled down his defined chin and neck. They worked seamlessly together.
Cyler’s booming greeting got everyone's attention, and each of the guys rewarded me with smoldering smiles that made my mouth go dry. I licked my lips and noticed Cyler's eyes zero in on the movement of my tongue. He slowly raised his eyebrows at me before inspecting a pile of crates off to the left of the train. The guys seemed happy and in their element, but I noticed a thoughtful air about them that made my anxiety rekindle.
“Hey, Ash!” Patrick yelled while jumping off the cargo trolley. I smiled as he ran towards me. He was a little sweaty from the heavy lifting, and his unbuttoned shirt flapped open with each stride of his long, muscular, legs. Patrick pulled me closer towards him, picked me up, and twirled me around in an incredibly embarrassing display of public affection. Patrick made me feel giddy and treasured, but I was nervous about what the others would think. He slid me down his tall frame until I was eye level with his chest.
That was another thing that had changed since Josiah’s kidnapping. Although I’ve always felt the intense friction of desire between the others and me, our boundaries seem to have become even more blurred over the past few weeks. No matter how much I wanted to convince myself that I’ve gained a makeshift family in Dormas, there's always the hint of something more percolating between us.
“Oh calm down, will you?” Huxley interrupted with a growl. “This isn’t date night, you tool. We’re going on a fucking mission.” He scowled deeply at us while wiping his hands on the denim of his jeans. Jacob rolled his eyes. Huxley’s bitter attitude was one thing that hadn’t changed.
“You’re just pissed you lost,” Patrick joked while using the bottom flap of his unbuttoned shirt to wipe the sweat dripping off his chin. I caught a glimpse of his sculpted stomach and released a low, appreciative sigh. Once again, I had to fight the urge to blur the lines of our friendship. With much-controlled effort, I averted my eyes from Patrick’s toned body while everyone snickered at his comment.
“Lost what?” I asked, fearing the answer.
Cyler then piped in to answer. “Are you referring to how he lost the vote to bring you along? Or how he lost when we drew straws to decide who gets to sit by you on our hour-long trip?”
Huxley rolled his eyes in response to Cyler’s chiding remarks, then slowly made his way towards me. He wore his signature frown, and I noticed the familiar intensity storming in his juniper eyes. Sometimes I thought Huxley and I were making strides in our friendship, but just as I began to grow comfortable towards him, he displayed random bursts of hostility that gave me emotional whiplash.
“Don’t look at me like that, Ash
,” Huxley grumbled with a pained expression that had me questioning why we were still playing this fiery dance with one another. He gave a pointed stare towards Cyler, Jacob, and Patrick, which made them step back to provide us with some privacy.
“We don’t need any distractions while we’re there. This meeting requires us to tread carefully," he began in a low voice. His eyes refused to meet mine. "Even though I know the Scavengers personally, they’re still unpredictable. I don’t want another thing to worry about.” He ran his hand through his short brown hair, ruffled from the hard work of unloading the cargo off the train. I lingered on the fact that he would worry about me. Huxley cared. No matter how much he aspired to convince me he didn’t.
“And he didn’t want you to meet his ex-girlfriend,” Patrick added with a chuckle which caused Huxley to whirl around and playfully punch him in the side. They both started to wrestle one another, causing large puffs of dirt and sand to kick up and fill the humid air.
I chose to ignore Patrick's statement, as well as the ridiculous yet gnawing fang of envy that demanded to know who she was and how she broke through his armor of arrogance and pride. So this is how they got the meeting with the Scavengers.
“Where you guys go, I go,” I shouted over them. “We’re family, Hux, whether you want to accept it or not. And I don’t necessarily want to be cooped up in the house with Jules until you return.”
They continued to wrestle. Huxley ignored my statement, and after sitting on Patrick until he cried “MERCY,” Huxley went back to work unloading the cargo.
“We’ll be fine,” Kemper said in a matter of fact tone while scanning through his Tablet. “We're meeting with one of the smaller and more civilized tribes. Their chief, Tallis, is fairly progressive. We’re hoping that he'll help us get an audience with some of the larger scavenger groups.” His clothes were wrinkled, and his hair lacked its usual polished style. I saw the thin outer layer of his cool facade shiver and crack. Regardless of his reassuring words, he was just as anxious about this meeting as the rest of them.
“Now, if we were meeting the Eastern Tribe, we’d need an army. They loot and kill without mercy,” Kemper added in an emotionless and bored tone while continuing to click away on his Tablet.
Fear clamped down on my heart, and Jacob hit Kemper on the back of the head.
“Way to scare her even more, Kemp!” he griped.
"What?!" Kemper looked back at him in confusion, rubbing his head where Jacob hit him.
“I thought you all didn’t get along with the Scavengers, that’s why you got Walkers from Galla,” I observed.
“We have various delicate alliances with a few of the tribes,” Cyler explained while inspecting one of the crates. “But not all of them are willing to agree on peace. Hunger and sickness makes them desperate, and being on the outskirts of the Empire, leaves Dormas vulnerable. Most of our issues are with the East,”
“So why now? Why didn’t you try to build an alliance sooner? Why get Galla involved?” I asked. I wanted to understand Cyler’s thoughts and motives.
“We didn’t have a bargaining chip before. There is nothing a Scavenger wants more than the Vaccine, and the only way we were going to get that was through an alliance with Galla,” Cyler briefly explained.
“What a tangled web,” I murmured in response.
After we chatted a bit more, I changed into an outfit more suitable for a formal meeting, and we boarded the train. I looked around the familiar trolley, and it felt like a great ball of burning iron was thudding against my ribs and assaulting my nerves. When I saw the familiar purple trim of the train and a large blood stain on the plush carpet, every instinct within the ventricles of my heart rebelled against being back where I once held tightly to Cyler as he bled out and almost died.
“I feel like us being on this train is a bad omen, Cy,” I whispered while the others got comfortable.
“Nonsense, babe. This train is one of my favorite places now.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because this train is where a little Walker stole a bit of this stone heart.” He patted his thick chest with an open palm before placing a sketch pad in my lap and closing his eyes for a nap.
The train ride was both too long and too short. Every minute that passed made me feel anxious, and I tapped my pencil against my sketchbook until Cyler grabbed my hand, forcing me to stop fidgeting. His touch had a calming effect on me, and I leaned closer, allowing the strength of his confidence to wash over me in reassuring waves.
The scenery outside changed drastically as the train pushed forward, and soon wild trees obstructed our visibility from every corner. Rogue branches that looked like bony fingers brushed the sides of the train, causing eerie sounds that made my mind conjure up dark scenarios.
“How was your first day at the bakery, Ash?” Kemper asked with a smile.
“It was alright. I fulfilled my first order, but the customer never showed up.” I gave Cyler a snide side-eye.
“Because of this meeting, I didn’t even get to enjoy it,” he grumbled, causing the room to fill with chuckles.
“Come here, I want to show you something,” Kemper said while patting the seat next to him. I stepped around the others as they worked on various projects. Once I was seated, Kemp pulled out an intricately carved bear the size of a fist. Each detail was masterfully displayed, and I couldn’t stop looking at the beauty of it. Kemper was so skilled.
“Lois mentioned last week that she was going to start selling toys in the shop. I hope you don’t mind, but I was the one that told her about your artistic abilities,” he said with a wince. Apparently, it was well known how pushy Lois could be.
“Ahh, so you’re to blame,” I replied teasingly.
“Yes, well, I carved this for you. Well, I mean for the kids, but—but for you to paint,” he rushed out awkwardly, and I wanted to hug him.
“It’s lovely Kemp,” I said in awe as he placed it in my hand.
He went over the details of his carving process, and I listened intently, our conversation a welcome distraction from the anxiety that plagued me.
Too soon, the train stopped, and Jacob opened the trolley door, revealing miles and miles of overgrown wilderness. Plush greens and browns filled my vision for as far as I could see, and a robust and earthy scent filled my nose.
“Welcome to the Deadlands,” a throaty voice said. Outside the train, stood a tall, stunning woman. She had long white-blonde hair and deep-brown eyes framed by white lashes. Her nose was narrow, and plump round lips took up a large part of her face. She was wearing black pants, black boots, and a black backless shirt that tied around her neck and exposed a sliver of her stomach. Her eyes brightened when she saw Huxley behind me, and I realized that this ridiculously beautiful woman was Huxley’s ex.
Huxley gave me a small and timid glance before gently pushing me aside and making his way down the steps into her outstretched arms. She gracefully wrapped herself around him, and he kissed her on the lips in a brief but intimate display that spoke volumes about their relationship. I clenched my stomach, surprised by the gnawing pain that erupted within me by seeing them together.
“It’s so good to see you Latria Mu,” she cooed, causing me to choke on the bile that rose up my throat.
“Likewise, Mia,” Huxley replied with, dare I say it, a smile. Mia got more smiles from Huxley within the first two minutes of their reunion than I’ve gotten in the entire past month.
“Welcome everyone. My brother is waiting to speak with you,” Mia said with smiling, mischievous eyes. “He’s in a particularly good mood, so we must pounce while the opportunity is hot!” she exclaimed in a poised yet cheeky tone. While exiting the train, Mia grabbed my arm and forcefully helped me down the steps. “It's so good to finally meet you. I’ve heard much about the wild-haired woman that’s got my Latria Mu all out of sorts.” She chuckled while Huxley groaned.
“I’m happy to be here,” I politely replied while straightening my ankle-length tawn
y skirt and cerulean lace top. Mia pulled me closer to her and helped me navigate the wild vines and roots that covered every inch of the forest floor as we made our way towards the Scavenger’s tribal center. I eyed the guys, but none of them seemed concerned with the tight, but guiding grip Mia had on me.
“Did any of these men warn you about what to expect today?” she asked in a chiding tone while raising a white eyebrow at me.
“Not really. Everything I know about scavengers, I learned from the Galla news reports, and even those are rare,” I replied softly. It felt surreal talking to a Scavenger. Until now they didn’t seem human to me.
Mia openly scoffed and snorted, a sound that somehow made her sound even more attractive. “Galla puts out so much propaganda about my people, they don’t know the truth anymore. They don’t agree with anything that doesn’t conform to the Empire’s rules.” The bridge of her nose rippled in disgust.
“My brother’s name is Tallis. When you meet him, you can address him as such. He's seventeen and officially the youngest Chief to ever pass our leadership trials. He’s rough around the edges but don't let him fool you. He’s a closet softie,” she said with a hint of pride and a smirk. “We might be one of the smaller tribes, but we are wildly protective of what’s ours.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if she was referring to Huxley.
My eyes widened before snapping to Huxley’s back. His rigid figure walked ahead of us, but I noticed his head was tilted towards us as if trying to inconspicuously listen to our conversation.
Mia’s chuckle made the dark trees seem less threatening. “Don’t worry Agrio, he hasn’t been mine for quite some time,” she whispered. She gave me a knowing glance that said my concern for Huxley was more evident than I intended to let on.