Some people Outside hold grudges and bitter relations to any kind of Walker for whatever reason they could find. Lack of care, or protection, is usually the case. Even though there are always multiple Walkers in the camps at all times, many people became jealous and angry at their high standing, which is almost always equal to the leadership in the camp.
William never met those Walkers, since the rules about them are restricted. But everyone knew that they were here to protect anyone within the camp and to make everyone feel safe.
In the case of being a young Walker, William knew plenty of people who looked at him with contempt in the camps he lived in. The young walkers within the orphanages were always open to criticism since they have no parents to take care of them. The same does not happen to the occasional birth of a walker. Those babies would soon disappear from the camp, as to the wishes of the living parents.
Nothing much was revealed about it to regular citizens. They all assumed the birth of a new Walker is very rare, and for them to happen openly is a yearly, to a semi-annual occasion.
In truth, the young walkers are being bought out by military organizations. In a name of the military, no parents within this harsh world would say no to payment and the rewards that always remained anonymous. It was a course of many decades of building up the resources that are being the Walkers. They are simply too important in the grand scheme of the fight against the Dark Age. Though, it is not safe to call it a fight that much.
“Hmph!” William kicked the stone lamp in a corner of the street in frustration and helplessness. His foot hurts from the impact, as his shoes are worn down quite a bit.
“Whatever, I will take his generosity to a heart.” He decides and keeps going with a small wooden box around his armpit. Those shoes will definitely come in handy.
Sun has already disappeared beyond the horizon and the shimmering lights of the lamps made the Central District quite cozy. Pairs of people, with many lonely pedestrians, are everywhere on this silent and windless night.
William looks around, with single credit in his pocket.
He feels no different, but even the gazes of a few people make strange relations with his former attire.
“Tsch... Those are just the clothes... Are people that shallow in the Federation? And here I thought Camp Roshwell was normal... How ironic.” William scowls silently within his mind.
Gradually getting to the intersection, he notices a few people in an unassuming corner. There is a watery fountain in a shape of a bell. People drink or put the water in long and thick wooden containers.
“Oh, water? Nice.” William guesses, and goes to the fountain.
There is a sign right on the side of the bell that states.
The association and needs of the Federation provide free water. Bamboo bottles are included and the safety of the water is guaranteed.
“Free water? What a utopian world... I guess I should have noticed this much earlier or asked Ellie, or the owner of the clothing shop.” William waits in a line of a few people. Each held a 2 feet bamboo bottle, with a wooden cover on each side. One of the covers has a small hole, so one could freely drink from it.
“Those are rather big. Madame Anderson had few, but much smaller than these.” William assumes, and it is soon his time in the line. There is no one after him, so he takes his time.
On the left side is a napping man in his thirties. William approaches him, since he has a bunch of bamboo bottles beside the fountain.
Poking him with his finger, William asks. “Excuse me, how much for the bottle?”
Glaring at William in rather nice and new clothing, the man scowls and blurts out.
“1 credit.”
“Nice, here you go.” William shoves him his remaining credit and gets a bottle for himself.
The man grins behind William's back and thought to himself. “What an idiot. They are free. I am just here, so no dumb person would steal them.”
Unbothered by his potential mistake, William places the bottle with a wide, open lid after struggling a little with the opening mechanism. It took a minute for the entire bottle to be full.
“Nice. This is at least a gallon.” William happily guesses, with water, what is plentiful for a long time. Quenching his thirst first, he is reminiscent of the past when he handled the waters in glass bottles, which were made in the camps. They could shatter to pieces if one is not careful, and bamboo bottles such as this are kind of luxurious good.
William could already guess that this bottle is a high-quality material known as Bamboo. Dull, robust, and very easy to farm in the right conditions. Although not in Canada. They are imported from unknown locations by some connections of the Federation.
But that is only William's guess that it is even the deal with the Federation, or something else. He did not know anything about what went behind the scenes of Camp Roshwell, and its management. Not even including the Federation.
Humming in a good mood, William, with a heavy bottle on his shoulder and a wooden box, goes his way through the night city. Reaching the other side of the nameless district he doesn't know the name of, he finds the familiar pathway.
It is at least the same road that he walked in the morning and the building complexes that went for a long distance. He would never forget the sight that he had seen before. Especially these impressive buildings.
Although hungry, he decided with credit-less pockets to go back to Luke's home who could be back, or not? He is already tired, so William would not even want to do anything else but rest.
Waiting would not bother him too much. It is a physical reaction of hunger that could wait for later. William is used to these feelings since working within the fields or animal care could keep one busy for a whole day with barely any time for rest.
Walking on, William reaches the same building complex with the number 47.
He could open the door with ease, but getting to the apartment of Luke is not. William bangs on the door with no response.
Sitting down beside the door is all he could. At least he has a chair, that is a wooden box and a bottle of water that could quench his thirst.
He can wait and wonder about the whole day. Be it from the coziness of the bed, or sitting in a hallway, it would not make much difference to him.
1 hour goes by.
2nd hour soon follows.
Alas, William still waits patiently.
It takes another one hour before Luke appears in the hallway.
“What in... oh shit.” He curses as he stands in front of napping William, who is leaning on the wall with the bottle on his lap.
Thinking or pondering about the day could be done in the lands of dreams as well. Although unwillingly, he fell asleep an hour ago. His head lies on top of the tall bamboo bottle.
“That is some impressive guts. He could be glad to fall asleep in this neighborhood. Hey, wake up!” Luke slightly kicked the bottle, and William's head falls down.
“Ah... Mister Luke, you are finally here?” he says in a tipsy manner.
“Yea... about this... I am sorry for not giving you a key, alright?” Luke embarrassingly says as he scratches his chin.
That was the first excuse he heard from Luke. Although, not like it means much to William, who is plenty tired already. Opening the door with a stroke of a key, they both walk inside.
“By the way, nice clothes. You look quite better with it than the previous clothes.”
“What was wrong with the previous ones? I like them.” William asks in seriousness.
“I don't know. These look much better. How was your day? Already spent some credits, I assume?” Luke readily changes the topic.
“I've got 3 floors to see tomorrow in the library. I've got quite a lot of harvests from today.” William proudly proclaims.
“They will let you go to the last two floors?” Luke asks, in a fleeting moment.
“W-what? They would not? Oh, you already knew there would be some problems with Kaufman's card, did you not?” William points to Luke in a questionable tone.
“What if I did or not?”
“Because someone named Burton wanted some troubles.”
“Well, since you got inside, it did not really matter. Am I right?”
“I guess... Is there something wrong with the last two floors?” William accepts his words since it doesn't matter if he has some issue with Luke or not.
“History, and the Dark. Two pieces to the puzzle for any young walker. Especial for one who is as clueless as you.” Luke mysteriously says, with implications that William could not even understand or guess.
“What do you mean? Is it not for the young to get to know the world better?” Willian bluntly asks. A question, with reason, which would anyone find reasonable.
“Who knows? It is something that you will find out tomorrow, I suppose.” Luke answers, with the same old relaxed answer that says absolutely and utterly nothing meaningful.
William could not help but curse Luke's luck in his mind since it has been multiple times he talked about interesting topics, while completely butchering anything meaningful about them. Though, William still remembers the lingering image of the Arcalist, and the particular view of the cleaved Jawran. That was totally badass.
“Oh, it is already so late. Time for some sleep.” Luke excused himself before disappearing to his room. He no longer knew anything he could say to William. Calling it a tactical retreat is all he could muster.
“W.. would it even hurt him to tell me something meaningful? What a bothersome feeling... It was the same thing in the helicopter, where he said some good things, before saying very little about others.” William sighs, and goes to his room with a rather dejected expression.
Not feeling too exhausted, but mentally drained, he jumps to his bed while undressing himself from the clothes. He is used to sleeping in the clothes, but those are too valuable to do so. William rather chooses to sleep naked since the temperature is right.
He lets the wooden box, and his bamboo bottle on the table, while completely obvious that something was missing.
Something within his body. That disappeared before he fell asleep.
Within his arm is an Emblem-less socket. Something that should not happen, but already happened multiple times.
Though, he could not be bothered with it, since he closed his eyes, and falls asleep shortly afterward.
Night creeps on, with unending stars, and the sigh of the ocean which leads to one-of-a-kind skies. Moon hangs there the same way as every night since it is not something that could disappear overnight. It could mayhap make sense while disappearing every day, but that is a made-up fantasy. Completely unimportant fiction. While technically true, the moon would disappear on the new day of the Earth.
In William's room, the clothes that he tossed to the ground, begin to move past midnight. Not long after, William fell asleep, nor too early.
As if something crawls around, or within the shirt's sleeve.
Dim light and particles flow from the sleeve as something strange gets up from the sleeve.
No snake, or some animal. Something nonmaterial, or real? One would not guess, since it is real, but some could guess it is not if they were told about this.
With crimson lines of the unknown, a small, foot-tall humanoid figure made of swirling dark crimson particles gets on its slugs that could be called legs.