Fight of the Walker (The Walker Series Book 3)

by Coralee June

  We walked into the small room, and I was reminded of my closet at the Stonewell home. Thoughts of Josiah filled me. I worried about his well being. Last I saw of him, he was shaking and fighting off whatever poison Emperor Lackley injected him with.

  "I’m...." I drifted off, unsure of what to say. “I’m not…”

  Dominique seemed oblivious to my discomfort as she looked around the room. "Here. Why don’t you let me help you,” she began while spinning around to face me. She cocked her head to the side and smiled. “You’re a Walker. A nobody. Maybe someone once loved you, but you won’t find that here. The sooner you realize you are nothing more than dirt beneath their feet, the sooner you’ll lose any qualms about what you’re willing to do for a better life." She straightened her spine then pulled a small brass Walker ear tag from her pocket.

  My heart sank when I realized what would happen next. The fetter was painful, but the tag cut to the bone. It symbolized everything I let go of when moving to Dormas.

  “See how they react when seeing you tomorrow. I think it’ll help you figure out what exactly your role is here. I’ve seen many Walkers. The ones that survive are the ones that accept what they are.”

  I wanted to run. To scream. However, my feet remained firmly planted as I accepted my fate. I had to play the part if I wanted to survive.

  "Luckily, your ear is already pierced." She approached me with gentleness before cradling my head in her hand. She tenderly brushed my hair away from my neck and looped the brass hoop through my ear before clamping it shut. There was no real reason for the tag, not really. My fetter was keeping me here. The only purpose it served was to show the rest of the world that I was a reject of high society.

  This was purely personal. A ploy to dehumanize me.

  "I'll see you in the morning. Your uniform is in the closet." Dominique straightened and slipped back into her fierce, orderly expression. I wondered how she so easily controlled herself. Did she see the injustice, or did she choose to ignore it?

  There was a time that I was the same, though. No longer would I be thankful for the scraps. I might’ve been wearing the tag that labeled me a Walker, but I knew the truth. I was a Dormas woman through and through.

  The next morning, a shrill, blaring alarm made me shoot up from my bed with a jolt. I never truly fell asleep. After Dominique left last night, I took a cold shower and lay in bed, tossing and turning restlessly. Even now, it felt daunting to list the worries that piled upon me. I got ready in a numb haze and wondered if the men I loved were here somewhere. Were they safe? Did they try to find me?

  I got dressed in the Ethros Walker uniform—a knee-length, crisp, teal dress made of a thick material that clung to my frame. It was itchy and somewhat revealing. A light knock on the door startled me, and assuming it was Dominique, I opened it.

  But instead, a bruised and battered Patrick barreled through the door, enveloping me in a hug and clutching me tightly to his chest.

  “You’re okay, oh, fuck I couldn’t think straight without you.”

  Although surprised to see him, I sunk into the depths of his hug and clung to the security I felt when we touched. After a while, we broke apart, and his hands trailed my cheeks as he looked at me. I felt cold, wet tears leaving a trail of relief down my skin.

  “I escaped for a moment. Cyler has Cavil distracted, but I can’t stay long. What happened?” Patrick asked. I bit my tongue for a moment, desperate to ask what happened to him. His lip was cracked and bloody, his eyes red. Bruises trailed up and down his arms, and I felt him tense when I held onto his middle.

  “I’m sure you know, Cavil wants Maverick to find the cure. I’m still on the Walker registry. His soldiers claimed me,” I choked out, and Patrick’s expression slipped. It looked like my tears punched him in the gut. “Is everyone okay? I heard you had to go to a healing pod,” I asked in a shaky voice.

  “Everyone is fine. Tallis and Mia escaped while we were there. They’re going to get help,” Patrick explained. He seemed unconcerned and wholly focused on me. “We’re going to make this right. I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe and happy, Ash.”

  “Is Josiah okay?” I asked, unable to help myself.

  “He was lethargic, but better. Cavil locked him in the Ethros prison, though. He wants information.”

  At least he was alive.

  I nodded as Patrick spoke while frantically clutching his shirt. “I have to go. Follow Cyler’s lead. I’ll talk to him.” Patrick turned to leave, taking my heart with him, when I clutched his wrist. Maybe it was the adrenaline or the fear, but I couldn’t go another moment without kissing Patrick.

  I made sure to be gentle, as to not hurt his lip, but I placed a timid kiss on his lips, tasting blood. He responded eagerly. Patrick’s hands wrapped around my neck as he confidently pressed his thigh between my legs. He deepened the kiss and sucked on my tongue. I trailed my hands down his sides and looped my index fingers through his belt loops, pulling tighter.

  A slight burning pain hit my wrist where my fetter sat, and I gasped in pain.

  “Oh damn, what the…” I cursed while looking down. Dominique’s bored voice spoke through the intercom in my room. “You’re two minutes late to kitchen duty. Please report now, or your shocks will increase in frequency and severity.”

  “Fuck,” Patrick cursed while cradling my hand in his. Another shock coursed through me, and I bent over in pain. When the electricity subsided, I shot up and stared at Patrick. There was still so much to be said, but not enough time to say it, so instead we ran from the dorms, fleeing the pain and the passion before I could get hurt.

  Other Walkers wordlessly walked past me on their way to their chores while wearing blank expressions of resignation. A new face was unsurprising to them, and even though I tried to smile in greeting, none returned the gesture. These Walkers were broken down and built up as slaves, and if I weren't careful, I would be, too.

  The kitchen was massive. I reported to a tall chef that merely sneered in greeting before asking me to chop vegetables to go into a quiche. The fetter stopped punishing me, but I still experienced phantom pain and anxiety that it would return. The pain was brief, but it was like a flash of intense burning that branded itself to my memory. It was one sensation I didn’t want to feel again.

  The Walkers that were servers bustled around me, grabbing gold plates and taking them outside through a free-swinging door. They were efficient and silent.

  A tall, slender server Walker entered the kitchen and rolled his eyes. "Our guests would like their Walker to serve them, so I've been dismissed for the day." He gave me a pointed stare before stalking off in angry huffs. The chef raised his eyebrows at me in curiosity.

  "You heard him. Get out there!" he ordered while thrusting a platter of grapes and strawberries into my hand. I forced myself not to run as excitement coursed through me. Maybe they were here? I traveled down the bright marble hallway towards the sound of a voice I once worried I would never hear again. Huxley.

  "It would be very disagreeable if our Walker were harmed while in your care, Cavil." Huxley's voice was graveley and tired but still echoed off the walls as I bounded down the hall towards them. He made Cavil’s name sound like a curse. I froze in the entryway to the dining room, drawing everyone's attention. I forced myself to swallow down tears of relief. Huxley, Patrick, Cyler, Jacob, Kemper, Jules, Cavil, and surprisingly, Dominique all sat at the large dining room table.

  "See! Your little Walker is safe and sound. I found her suitable accommodations in our Walker quarters," Cavil exclaimed while clapping his hands. I looked at each of them. Light bruises and stoic expressions covered their cheeks, but there was relief in their eyes. I wanted to run to them. I wanted to hug and kiss and sob in each of their arms. But I had a part to play. My eyes flashed to Patrick whose lips were firmly set in a straight line. He seemed angry. My happy-go-lucky twin looked murderous. There was no evidence from our kiss earlier.

  "And don't worry, Jules
. I'll find your pet Scavenger and his sister," Cavil added. His eyes squinted in mock concern, and I noticed her small fist clench around her fork. She looked beautiful, as usual. Although her posture was submissive and proper, her eyes held defiance. “It's such a shame that he disappeared on our pit stop in Lutheras.” Cavil’s voice was assuming and dark.

  Jules lifted her chin defiantly while staring him in the eye. "I'm sure you’ll find Tallis," she replied in a bright tone that was cocky and challenging, “...or he’ll find you.”

  “Did you hear?” Cavil asked Dominique. “Riots have started in Galla and Dasos. His people are furious. The Walker Zones are in shambles. If Lackley’s in hiding, he won’t be for long. The second I hear of his location, I’ll bring him to justice!” Cavil pounded his fist on the table. “I’ll be the hero of the empire. Monuments will be built in my honor!” Cavil let out a boastful laugh as I made my way over to the dining room table. I began serving Huxley, and I tried not to meet his eyes, for I knew if I did, all semblance of control would slip.

  "Do you mind explaining to me why there is a fetter on my sister and my Walker, Cavil?" Cyler's rough voice growled. My resolve to keep calm slipped as our gazes collided with one another. Cyler was all fire and brimstone, burning with intensity and love. He practically hummed with repressed anger. My breathing became heavy as I approached him, and I purposefully dropped a single strawberry in the center of his gold plate. I passed Jules as she looked to Cy with glassy eyes before nodding away whatever emotion she felt.

  "I needed Jules' cooperation. You're a leader, Cyler. You know how these things go. I wanted to ensure that she would come along, and a fetter just simplified things." Cavil took a long sip of his orange juice then lightly dabbed at his lip with a cloth napkin. “However, there is something wrong about seeing such barbaric means of control on such a delicate member of the Elite. I truly hope you’ll forgive me, Mistress.”

  Jules opened her mouth to rebuke his apology, but Cyler interrupted her, “That’s unacceptable. I’d like it removed at once.” Jules straightened in her seat and smiled.

  “You know we can’t. Not without cutting off her hand, anyways,” Cavil explained with a wave of his wrist. "As for your Walker, it was for her protection, really. My men said she was completely unreasonable. Fighting and kicking to break free. I thought it would help you control her."

  Huxley's lip lifted in a flash of prideful amusement before slipping back into cold indifference. I bit my cheek, suppressing a smile at his reaction to my defiant display against the guards.

  Next, I went to Jacob. The veins in his forearm pounded with adrenaline, and I watched how his muscles flexed at my proximity. I set the platter in front of him, and as I moved away, his hand snaked out and grabbed me.

  "Is this permanently attached to her skin?" he asked, unable to help himself. I looked to Cavil who grinned with beady eyes, as if his suspicions were confirmed by Jacob.

  "Yes. That's how they work! Do you not have those in Dormas? It makes them more agreeable, in my opinion. It's a bit painful to put on, so you have to deal with the screams, but the tracking and poison capabilities make the Walkers oh so docile." Cavil looked over at Dominique and smiled. Jacob took a millisecond to run his thumb over the red skin near my bracelet, before letting go. “As long as a Walker is on Ethros, I can control them. Punish them. Keep them contained. Within my boundary—they’re mine.”

  When Huxley spoke, it was cold and stern. “You’re going to regret that, Cavil.”

  “Regret is for the weak. We have a way of life to preserve. Lackley is deranged, but I happen to like the system X has created. Speaking of which, if you plan to play with your Walker Companion, I have a room specifically for those proclivities.” Cavil winked, and Dominique stiffened beside him before forcing a smile. My stomach sank as my eyes connected with Huxley. For a few heart beats I waited for someone to disagree with Cavil, but none did.

  “Thanks. We will keep that in mind,” Cyler replied in a hard voice, and I bit back the pain. Jules advice rang through my mind. I knew this was a delicate political situation, but it still frustrated me.

  "You’re dismissed," Dominique said with expressionless eyes. With a curtsy, I turned to walk back towards the kitchen but then stopped and straightened my spine. This wasn't like with Josiah. I wouldn’t bend to the will of the Elite. I would play by the rules of Ethros, but I'd do it on my terms.

  "Is there anything you need, first?" I made my voice even and sweet but hoped they caught on to my intentions. At once, Jules spoke up, but I saw the others on the edge of their seats, ready to steal the opportunity if necessary.

  "Go to my room. I need the disgustingly out-of-fashion clothes they provided me with, fitted. I also would like you to prepare a lunch to bring to Maverick. You know how he neglects his appetite when in the throes of work." If Jules and I were friends, I would have kissed her in thanks. But we weren’t. So instead, I nodded.

  "Yes, Mistress." I gave one last look to Huxley. Of all of them, I needed his reassurance the most. He was the least affectionate. I doubted he even liked me most days. But if he could give me some sign that it would all be alright, then maybe, just maybe, I could curb the fear long enough to survive.

  His hard stare met mine, and I lost hope for a brief moment. Then, his eyes softened. His pure juniper gaze looked at me with such adoration, such fierce, protective love, that it was near impossible to doubt his feelings for me. I gave him a brief nod in understanding before excusing myself. My chest was tight with the emotions I was too numb to process.

  I escaped to Jules’ suite, and once there, took five minutes to pinch my thigh and control my breathing. This was unlike anything I felt in the Stonewell Home. Seeing my guys but not being able to touch or talk to them was torture. It wasn't the reunion I wanted, and it threatened to break the confidence I had slowly built up over the last few months. It was so simple in Dormas. I regretted not stealing every moment. Kissing them. Loving them. Saying all the hidden words that begged to break free. If I could go back, I wouldn't waste a second.

  The door opened and Kemper strolled inside without a care. I opened my mouth to greet him. To ask if he was okay. To cry out that I missed him and beg that he figure out a way to get us out of this mess. But before I got the chance, he placed a firm hand behind my neck and connected his lips with mine. His mouth moved with such barely-contained passion, that I sunk into the force of his kiss and pressed my body to his. After a few moments, I opened my mouth to warn him that someone could walk in on us, but he took that as an invitation to explore. His tongue pushed into my mouth, and he alternated between tasting and biting my lips.

  His hands held tightly to my waist, as if afraid I would slip through his fingers. There was no tentativeness. No fear or control. Kemper let loose, and I got swept up in the storm of his chaotic passion.

  I brushed my fingers over his back, his chest. I drifted lower to the hem of his shirt and moved my hands under the soft material so I could feel his skin. I traced my fingers over the dips and grooves of his muscles. While deepening the kiss, his hands explored the curve of my butt and lightly squeezed me tighter against him, causing my teal Walker uniform to rise up, revealing my shaking thighs. All the emotions of the last few days collided within us. Without words, Kemper showed me his concern, his fear, his love. This was the reunion I wanted, and he broke all the rules to give it to me.

  "You have to stop, someone will see," I urged after I finally tore myself free and adjusted my dress. I tried to keep the tremble from my voice, but failed. I was too shaken from our kiss. Too moved by the love in his touch.

  "I don't care, Ash," he mumbled before trailing soft kisses along my neck. His lips found my collarbone, and he began lightly biting along the cut line of my bone. Kemper's hands then cupped my cheeks as he peered into my eyes. It was too much. I felt tears well up, and I crumbled under his adoring gaze.

  "I don't care what the rules are here, okay? I'll break them all to be with you. I'
ll keep you safe. We’ll play nice for now, but we have a plan in motion. Besides, plenty of Holders in Ethros have physical relationships with their Walkers. We can use that to get around the rules. I don’t want you out of our sight." I wanted to feel comforted by his words, but his last statement made me freeze.

  "I'm sure he already thinks I'm your plaything, Kemp. Here, that's all a Walker could ever hope to be, right? It’s good enough for a Walker. And then what? When will Cavil let us go? Am I just supposed to be your Walker Companion until then?"

  "You are not just a Walker Companion, Ash," he growled out. I pulled back at the fierceness of his words. The Kemper I knew was kind. He was my calm in the storm. But now he was on edge.

  "That's just what you insinuated, Kemper!" I yelled, before covering my mouth. We both listened for footsteps, worried that someone would barge in. After we were sure no one was coming, I began again. "Walkers have no rights in Ethros. It feels like I'm back in Stonewell Manor, pining after what I can't have." Kemper's expression fell as he took in my words.

  This wasn't what I wanted for our first kiss, and I hated that I was pouring out my insecurities all over our still new and fragile relationship, but this was always going to be an obstacle.

  "Just wait. We’ll figure this out and be back in Dormas in no time. Just..." he began before looking at the door then back at me. Footsteps could be heard coming towards the room. "Don't give up on us just yet, okay? We aren't Josiah. The end goal is for all of us to be together...that is, of course, if you'll have us?"

  I gasped just as the door knob turned, making it so that I couldn't respond. They wanted me. They all wanted me. I wanted to continue this conversation. I wanted to know the role I was supposed to play. I wanted to know that there would be a happy ending at the end of all this turmoil. However, Jules and Dominique walked through the door, ending our conversation. Once their eyes landed on Kemper, he straightened and left without offering an explanation.