Wings of the Walker Read online

  “I’d like to take you on a tour of our Providence tomorrow, with your brother’s permission,” Josiah said to Jules. He maintained a forced, polite tone, but jealousy still flooded me like a tidal wave of fire.

  “Oh, that would simply be lovely!” Jules exclaimed while twirling her hair on her index finger.

  “Would you mind if I joined the both of you, I don’t want to intrude on your courtship, but I would very much enjoy a tour of Galla,” Master Black said. A slight pout formed on Jules’ face, making me wonder if she thought it made her look cute.

  “Of course, you are most welcome to join us,” Josiah replied.

  The rest of dinner went by without any major disasters. I mostly remained invisible in the corner of the room, making myself available if they needed anything, but primarily focusing on my nails. I briefly noticed Josiah peering longingly at me, but I chalked it up as my wishful imagination. Josiah was consistently polished and professional.

  Chapter 4

  Eventually, everyone excused themselves, and I made quick work of clearing the table and cleaning the kitchen. I wanted to escape to the solitude of the basement as quickly as possible and avoid speaking with Josiah at all costs.

  I turned the water to a scalding-hot temperature and let the natural pain distract me while I scrubbed dishes until my fingers tingled. I felt a broad sense of sadness settle in my chest.

  Josiah was getting married. Married! Was I just another Walker to him? A roach? I shuddered at the thought of Josiah thinking so lowly of me. I knew it was unrealistic to hope that he and I could ever act upon this unspoken tension between us. But, could I honestly handle sitting here, watching him build a family with Jules?

  For a fleeting moment, I considered Master Black’s offer to go with him to the Dormas Providence. His whispered promise that I wouldn’t live as a Walker in his home had me wondering what life would be like in his Providence. Master Black was a unique blend of terrifying and sassy, but his offer was intriguing. Would I find happiness elsewhere? Would escaping all of this pain be better?

  The door to the kitchen opened, and I turned to face the intruder after removing my hands from the burning-hot water in the sink. Josiah stood in the kitchen entryway with his arms crossed over his thick, defined, chest. He wore a defeated expression that made my heart stutter. I wanted nothing more than to hug him tightly, but once again, I kept my distance.

  Despite feeling hurt by everything, the urge to comfort him was still present–strangling me with a need so fierce, I couldn’t help but take deep breaths to calm down.

  “Say something, Ashleigh, Please. God. Just . . . say something.” His voice sounded rough and worn, and he looked down at his polished shoes.

  “What is there to say, Josiah?” I asked him with a shrug. His eyes zeroed in on my hands, and he made his way towards me. “Your hands are bright-red. What are you even doing down here?” He grabbed a towel off the counter and collected ice from the freezer. After placing a handful in the cloth, he walked over to me and carefully put my hands on the ice. At first, I relished in his comfort, but I jerked my hands back. I didn’t need Josiah to be nice.

  “Please go tend to your guests,” I pleaded. He growled and pushed me against the counter. “You think I want to be tending to my guests?” he asked while running a hand through his messy locks. “If I had my way, I’d leave here with you and never look back. But, if I want to provide a life for you, it has to be like this. The only way I can keep you is as a Walker." His eyes pleaded with me, but I refused to allow his words to penetrate my emotional armor. "If you think for one second I’m okay with any of this, then you don’t know me at all.” Josiah leaned in closer to me while pressing his hips against me in a way that made my knees tremble. My chest brushed against him, causing his eyes to blaze with want.

  “Would you still keep me if you knew it hurt me, Josiah?” My whispered voice sounded pathetic. “Would you allow me to suffer every day?”

  Josiah then responded, “Am I selfish if I say yes?”

  The kitchen door opened, causing Josiah to remove himself from against me immediately. The sudden vacancy he left made me feel cold and empty. I looked over to see our intruder and found Master Black looking at us with a smug expression that made me nervous. He was an intelligent, smart leader. It wouldn’t take much for him to become aware of my feelings for Josiah.

  “Oh, don’t mind me,” he said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just hoping that Ashleigh had some more of that delicious cake she made earlier.”

  “Oh yes, Master Black. Please have a seat in the dining room, and I’ll happily bring you a slice and some evening tea. Do you have any preferences?” I noted that my voice sounded wired and overly chipper. Could he sense how anxious I felt?

  Instead of answering me or making his way to the dining room, he pulled up a stool on the island counter and plopped his large body down. I noticed how his grey shirt clung tightly to his muscles. I stared for what must have been longer than polite because both Josiah and Master Black cleared their throats. A blush crept across my cheeks.

  “No need to make any tea, Ash. I’ll just enjoy a glass of water. I’d hate to trouble you any more than I already have,” he said with a sigh. Josiah scowled openly at him but quickly masked his disdain when he caught me eyeing him.

  I prepared Master Black’s slice and even topped it with a fresh strawberry I got from the market earlier that week. Fruits were a rare luxury in the Galla Providence. I hadn’t eaten one since Josiah snuck me a bite when I was just a little girl, and I distinctly remembered the tart flavor. Josiah pulled up a stool and roughly requested another slice, too. A part of me doubted that he wanted to indulge in extra dessert, he, most likely, just wanted to keep an eye on Master Black.

  “Here you are Master Black and Master Stonewell,” I said while placing their plates in front of them. I then bowed and took a step back, feeling unsure of what to do next. Except for Josiah’s morning visits in the kitchen before work, it was rare that I had distinguished company while completing my chores.

  “Oh, babe, this is delicious.” Master Black said while smacking his lips. “And, in the future, I’d greatly appreciate it if you called me by my name, Cyler. Master Black was my father,” he said with a wink.

  Josiah dropped his fork, and a loud clang reverberated off the walls of the kitchen. Calling someone by their first name was an incredibly intimate gesture in our Providence. Calling a high-ranking person anything other than ‘Master’ or ‘Mistress’ mentioned that there was more than polite and formal familiarity between parties. However, going against his request would be a sign of serious disrespect. After a brief, personal banter, I ultimately decided to abide his request.

  “Thank you . . . uh . . . Cyler. Please enjoy your dessert,” I mumbled while my voice stumbled over his name. He seemed very pleased with my willingness to use his name, as Cyler rewarded me with a wide grin that revealed large, white teeth.

  “Master Stonewell, may I please continue with my evening chores? If there is anything additional that you require, I can retrieve it.” I gave him a dutiful smile, but he returned my gaze with eyes that burned with a fury that slapped me. Did I say something wrong?

  “Of course,” he said while wiping the corners of his delicious mouth. “And, since Cyler, here, has decided that this should be an informal visit, please continue to call me by my first name as well,” he growled.

  I nodded in understanding and resumed my chores in the kitchen by putting away dishes and starting to make dough for tomorrow’s cinnamon rolls. After gathering the ingredients and mixing them, I began mixing and kneading the dough. It was tiring work, and my shoulders ached after mixing for ten minutes. I looked up and saw that both men were watching me slowly work the thick dough in silence. I felt their eyes caress each movement I made.

  Once I was done, I put the dough in a ceramic bowl and wiped down the counter. “Ash, do you like strawberries?” Cyler asked. I looked up to face him and felt my
mouth salivate at the thought of indulging outside of my usual ration of bland oatmeal.

  “It has been a long while since I’ve had the pleasure of tasting one, but yes. Strawberries are delightful. I hope you enjoy yours,” I replied with longing. Josiah had already finished his and was bringing over his dirty plate to the sink for me to wash. Cyler dipped the strawberry on his plate in leftover chocolate frosting and walked towards me.

  “It would bring me great pleasure to share a bite with you,” he said in a low tone. My stomach dropped.

  “Here, please. Take a bite.” He pierced the strawberry on his fork and held his hand beneath the dripping frosting to catch any chocolate that slid off the red sides. Without warning, he placed it against my lips, and I instinctually opened my mouth to taste the sweet fruit. Flavor exploded on my tongue, and a quiet moan escaped my lips while taking a bite. The chocolate frosting enhanced the flavor deliciously. I closed my eyes and chewed slowly, savoring each explosion of sweet flavor.

  Once I swallowed the delicious treat, I opened my eyes to see both Cyler and Josiah staring intently at me with varying expressions of awe and longing.

  “I’m sorry about this morning’s mix-up,” Cyler whispered so that only I could hear. “As well as for any additional pain I have caused you today.”

  Before I could answer, Josiah coughed disrupting whatever trance that Cyler had me in. I took a step back and nodded my head submissively. Josiah was right. Master Black–Cyler–was dangerous.

  Chapter 5

  The next day I served breakfast and was able to avoid additional talk about Josiah and Jules’ impending union. Mistress Stonewell was so thrilled about how the visit was going that she didn’t scold me when I nervously addressed both Josiah and Cyler by their first names.

  I packed a light lunch for their planned tour of the Providence and even included additional strawberries in Cyler’s pack for reasons I didn’t fully understand. They waited in the common room for the transport to arrive, and once I was sure that they didn’t need anything else I bowed my goodbyes and made my way back towards the kitchen. I had a log of chores to complete in their absence as well as a considerable amount of meal preparations to coordinate for the extravagant dinner Mistress Stonewell had planned for this evening.

  I looked forward to a break from the tension that radiated off of Josiah in waves. I also needed to distance myself from the fiery eyes that Cyler Black aimed at my every movement. “Ashleigh, will you not be joining us today?” His question caught me off guard, and I spun around clumsily to address the curious man.

  “Assigned Walkers aren’t typically allowed to roam the Providence or utilize transports. We are given only a handful of designated routes to follow, and very few businesses allow Walkers on their premises,” I responded.

  Most immune Walkers were allowed to run short errands on behalf of their households or masters, but otherwise, laws prohibited Walkers from exploring Galla. As a child, I sincerely envied Josiah’s freedom to go to the zoo or fair. He knew this, so he would frequently bring me back small trinkets to hide in my room.

  My desire to leave the home has diminished over the years, partly because I didn’t know what I was missing out on and partly because I was simply too busy to have time for such trivial things.

  “I’d like for you to accompany us,” Cyler announced. I gaped at him.

  “I’m sure the Walker has chores to complete, Cy. Plus, Walkers aren’t allowed around the Providence. The sudden freedom might be overwhelming for the poor thing,” Jules said in a cooing tone. Her broad smile was threatening as she straightened her floor-length, grey dress so that it hugged her small chest more.

  “Nonsense,” Cyler began. “I think it would be enjoyable to see the Providence from her perspective.” He held out his arm for me to take, ending the conversation. But, before walking towards him, I eyed Mistress Stonewell and Josiah suspiciously.

  “Oh good grief, girl” Linda groaned. “Just accompany Master Black on the tour. He’s our guest, and we must oblige whatever requests he has, regardless of how peculiar they are.” Linda mumbled the last bit of her statement, but still, Cyler grinned.

  After hearing Mistress Stonewell provide approval, I closed the distance between us and politely gripped his arm. The close contact made me self-conscious, and I patted my messy hair and my stained dress. I felt dirty in comparison to my prim companions for the day. Using my free hand, I attempted to smooth my wild curls, but Cyler grabbed it.

  “You look beautiful,” he whispered. His acute awareness of me despite our brief knowledge of one another was unnerving. I glanced at Josiah to gauge his reaction to our close contact, but he appeared to be unaware of my presence and wholly absorbed in the task of guiding Mistress Black to the transport. Seeing them so comfortable together brought out the stark differences between us. Where she was refined and poised, I was a clumsy and out of place mess.

  “I think I’m very much going to enjoy this,” Cyler continued while easing me into the transport and onto the seat directly next to him. Although I desperately tried to avoid contact, our thighs touched, and the heat radiating off of him made me squirm.

  We started our drive, and Josiah pointed out various landmarks, most of which I had only read about or occasionally seen on television. The skyscrapers made of steel and glass kissed the clouds while men wearing trousers and ties walked the streets below their towering presence. Bright screens of advertisements flashed annoyingly on every corner, and I found myself in awe of all the lights and sounds.

  Occasionally, Cyler would ask me questions about my opinions on different buildings or sights, but mostly we remained in quiet awe of everything while Josiah and Jules flirted shamelessly with one another. After an hour or so of torturous flirting and aimless driving, Cyler made an odd request:

  “I’d like to see the Walker Zones, now.”

  Josiah and Jules threw annoyed expressions at him. “It isn’t common for higher-ranking individuals to explore the Walker Zones,” Jules said. She seemed uncomfortable and outwardly embarrassed by his request.

  “I’d like to see the people we could be welcoming into our Providence. I’d also like to see their current conditions.

  Josiah wordlessly nodded his head yes and began programming a new destination for the dashboard. We rode in suffocating silence and palpable tension. Jules folded her arms and scowled like a toddler that didn’t get her way. She occasionally huffed in discontent, and I found her behavior to echo the childishness and naivety of her young age.

  Outside, our surroundings gradually became less clean. Less pristine. Instead of the polished people gliding confidently on the sidewalk, Walkers migrated the streets with their shoulders slumped wearing torn clothing. The stark differences between the Walker Zones and the rest of the Galla Providence were harsh and intimidating.

  The dirt, grime, and filth felt like smog in my lungs. Children ran barefoot on the sidewalk, and vendors sold various second-hand items that appeared to be either broken or old. Although I once lived in the Walker Zones as a child with my parents, I didn’t remember the overall helplessness of it all. Memories of my parents were few and far between, but I never remembered feeling unsafe or unhappy.

  Walkers watched our transport as it hovered the streets slowly. Cyler wordlessly observed the conditions of the Walkers with a distinct expression of trepidation. His mouth dipped into a fierce frown, the deeper we traveled into the Walker Zone. Unlike the present city center of Galla, there were no skyscrapers of brightly-colored advertisements adorning the streets of the Walker Zone. Huts were made out of scrap sheet metal meant for shelter and decorated in graffiti. Trash littered the streets, and Walkers consumed every available pocket of space possible.

  Josiah and Jules whispered amongst one another as we passed through the crowded streets. They smiled back and forth at each other, seemingly unaware of the absolute poverty the people around us endured. A deep shame and hurt filled me to the brim. After seeing my heritage, I felt
that what was once a river between us had now become an ocean.

  I felt sick witnessing, first-hand, the conditions I would have been subject to had it not been for the serendipitous kindness of the Stonewell family. I clutched my stomach as we passed a group of young children kicking an almost-deflated, black ball. Despite the sadness and poverty surrounding them, they moved the ball between one another while chuckling and chatting. I looked over at Cyler to see that his frown had lifted a bit at the sight of these playful children.

  “Stop the transport,” he demanded. Josiah looked like he wanted to do anything but that, his eyes squinted, and he released a loud sigh, but he complied. After punching a few buttons on the dashboard, we came to an abrupt stop.

  Cyler wasted no time and climbed out of the safety of our transport while dragging me with him. He stomped his boots towards the courtyard full of Walker children, while I shuffled cautiously behind.

  Everyone stared at us with stunned curiosity and a sickening stench caused me to cough loudly and fight the overwhelming queasiness that bubbled in the pit of my stomach. Cyler made his way over to the children with ease while ignoring their gaping stares. A few smaller children wearing nothing but diapers cowered away from him. Cyler’s massive frame and gruff exterior were considered intimidating in even the best of circumstances, but now I could tell that it was instinctively programmed in these children to recognize any potential danger and flee.

  “Now, this won't do,” Cyler’s booming voice echoed throughout the courtyard. He bent over and picked up the deflating ball and examined it like a scientist observes a problematic equation. None of the children moved, and the eerie courtyard was so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

  “I’ve got an idea,” he said while snapping his thick fingers. He reached into the front pocket of his black jeans and after a moment of searching pulled out a bright blue piece of what appeared to be rubber. I squinted at it but was unable to make it out. Slowly he put the rubber against his plush lips and with big, exaggerated puffs, started to inflate the blue plastic. Although I mostly was intrigued by the toy, I couldn’t help but watch his strong chest rise and fall while the blue piece transformed into a shape resembling a ball.