Refugees from the Righteous Horde (Toxic World Book 2) (7 page)

CHAPTER NINE

Jeb hoped he had made the right choice. When that woman came over the edge of the riverbed his options had flashed through his mind.

Option 1: Run. That was his first impulse until he realized there was no chance he’d get away without getting shot in the back.

Option 2: Fight. One of the other machete men had almost made that decision for him. He had charged after her, only to find she wasn’t alone. Thankfully the guy slowed down long enough for the New City group to reconsider, otherwise the result would have been the same as option 1 except Jeb would have gotten shot in the front instead of the back.

Option 3: Surrender. Didn’t give him much chance but better than options 1 and 2.

So up went his hands. He’d spouted some bullshit about how grateful he was for it all to finally be over. The Latina chick with the shotgun didn’t look convinced. Instead of listening to his words, she watched his hands.

And now those hands rested on his head as he walked in front of the New City patrol. The fact that they hadn’t been gunned down on sight he took as a good sign,
unless like some settlers the people of New City convinced themselves of their civilized nature by having a show trial before killing their enemies. He didn’t like the talk that black farmer had been making. He’d never make it to a hundred with a rope around his neck. Options 1 and 2 were still on the table.

Option 2 had been given an unexpected boost from Leonard. It happened while they were being ordered forward one by one to be searched. Jeb had been frisked first, and as he went back to the group Leonar
d moved forward and slipped him his clasp knife. Jeb tucked it under his shirt with a quick movement and kept a perfect poker face. The whole thing had taken only a second, and had been played so well that Leonard went up a few notches in Jeb’s estimation. The posse members from New City hadn’t suspected a thing.

He could feel the knife under his waistband as he walked and felt reassured by its potential.

It took until noon to find the body of that scavenger. Overnight some animal had chewed on the ears and cheeks. Flies covered the exposed flesh like a living blanket.

“Well,” Jeb said, “here he is.”

The woman with the shotgun, the one Jeb had heard the others calling Annette, gave a little shrug. “I guess that solves that. The man was a fugitive and the murder happened in the wildlands, so I don’t have much to say about it. The question is, what are the New City folk going to do with you?”

“Yeah, I was wondering the same thing,” one of the New City men said. “The Doctor isn’t going to be too happy about this
.”

“Nobody is going to be too happy about this,” the other New City woman snapped. She’d been against taking them prisoner from the start.

“Look, we didn’t want to fight, like I said,” Jeb protested. “If you’re just going to take us back to hang us I’d rather take my chances in the wildlands.”

“We’ll bring you in for questioning. You won’t be lynched, I’ll see to that,” Annette said.

Hell no I won’t, bitch. I’ll be the one seeing to that.

Out loud he asked, “Do you get to decide?”

They started the long walk back to New City.

“I have some pull back there,” Annette said.

“You an officer in the militia?” Jeb asked.

Annette looked surprised. “Militia? No, we don’t have a militia. Everyone is responsible for defense together. Some people do it almost full time b
ut not many. Even our Head of the Watch has a farm and market stalls.”

“So what are you then?”

“The woman who will blow your head off if you try anything. Besides that, I’m the sheriff.”

“Sheriff?” What the hell did that mean?

“You heard of police?” she asked.

“Like in the Old Times?”

“Yeah. A sheriff is the police of a whole town.”

Jeb chewed on that for a moment.

“So you’re not a patrol,” he said.

“We were chasing that scavenger. He killed a man.”

“I wish killing each other had been forbidden back in the Righteous Horde,” Jeb muttered.

He meant to say it to continue with his victim role, to gain sympathy, but it came out feeling true.

That night they camped outside. They’d passed another farm compound in the late afternoon but the residents had flatly refused to let the machete men sleep inside the fence. Now as the sun winked out to the west, the New City posse built up a fire and handed out food.

The machete men ate gratefully. Jeb’s tension eased somewhat. It looked like he was in no immediate danger.
But what would happen when they got back to New City? Judging from what he overheard, he still thought staying with them was less risky than running or trying to get the drop on these folks.

Not that he’d have much of a chance to do that. One of the posse
always kept a gun on them, and they were always made to sit apart from the New City group.

As they finished their meal and the posse chatted among themselves, Leonard leaned over and whispered to Jeb, “Give me back my knife. Just ease it behind your back a
nd I’ll grab it.”

“Can’t,” Jeb whispered back. “It slipped out of my pants as we were walking.”

“Bullshit,” Leonard said.

Jeb shrugged. “Sorry.”

Leonard glared at him. “Give it back.”

“What’s going on over there?” Annette called over.

Jeb called back, “Leonard here is telling me I better not reveal anything about the Righteous Horde or he’s going to smash my face in. He’s still loyal to that crazy preacher. I’ll tell you everything I know. That nutcase deserves to die for bringing war back to the world.”

Le
onard glared at him harder.

Annette stood up and sauntered over, her shotgun in her hands.

“What can you tell me?” she asked.

Jeb’s mind raced. What could he tell her?

“Lots. I was a servant to one of the Elect, shining his boots and building his campfire and making sure his woman didn’t run away. I overheard tons of stuff.”

Jeb glanced at the others. The machete men meekly sat and listened to this lie. Leonard eyed him. He looked like he was biding his time.

“Tell me, then,” Annette said.

Jeb’s eyes narrowed. “What do I get out of it?”

“Your life,” Annette said.

“You already told me we won’t be lynched.”

Annette snorted. “You’re a sharp one.”

“How about this? Since you don’t have anything to offer me you can take me to your leader, the one they call T
he Doctor. I’ll see what he has to offer and tell him direct. You don’t need to bother with these other guys. They don’t know shit. But you gotta promise they’ll be cared for while me and The Doctor work out a deal.”

Annette nodded. “All right.”

Jeb looked back at his companions. They looked absurdly grateful, like children who had their toys taken away from them and then unexpectedly returned. All except for Leonard, who sat there sizing him up.

They made it to New City around noon the next day. Jeb and th
e others were still weak from hunger. While the posse had given them dinner the night before and breakfast that morning, Jeb noticed that it was just enough to keep them going and not enough to give them their strength back. This sheriff chick was a smart one.

Not a bad piece of ass, either. She was about the same age as Jeb and while he usually preferred younger women, she was still nice to look at.

A couple of snacks and you’re already thinking like Leonard,
he chastised himself.
Focus on surviving.

Someo
ne must have been watching from the wall because by the time they got to the edge of town there was a crowd waiting for them. A middle-aged man wearing camo and Kevlar and toting an M16 stood in front. Several others flanking him had guns and there was a mix of citizens and scavengers behind them.

So easy to tell the difference,
Jeb thought.
The citizens here are the best-fed people I’ve seen since I was a kid.

Yeah, remember suppertime in those days, when on good years you went to bed full instead of just
satisfied?

This bunch don’t share
much, though. The scavengers here don’t look much better off than the scavengers in the wildlands.

“What do we have here?” the guy in the Kevlar asked. He had a smile that made Jeb uneasy.

“Hey Clyde,” Annette replied. “We captured these stragglers from the Righteous Horde. They found the murderer before we did. He’s dead and they’re our prisoners.”

“Well let’s have a necktie party!” Clyde said. The crowd raised an ugly cheer.

“Not so fast! I promised them protection if they surrendered, and this one here claims,”—Annette gave Jeb a withering looks as she emphasized “claims”—“that he has some knowledge about The Pure One’s plans.”

The crowd grumbled its disapproval. Clyde studied Jeb, who tried to look meek and helpful.

“Not sure I’d trust what he has to say,” Clyde said.

Jeb put on a hurt look.

“Why should I lie? You saw what the Elect did to us. Made us charge your wall at gunpoint, and when we retreated they shot at us! That night we rushed The Pure One. You must have seen that. Don’t you remember? We wanted to put his head on a spear and offer you peace, but we were defeated.”

Jeb dropped his head until his chin rested on his chest. Yeah, he remembered that night well, except he was the one doing the shooting, killing dumb
fucks like his companions.

Former companions,
he corrected himself.
You’re making your own deal now.

A rising chorus of angry shouts made him turn. Another crowd came up the street toward them. It was led by a slab of a man with raven black hair and a bear
d to match. Jeb tensed. Was this the lynch mob Annette had been so quick to reassure him wouldn’t come? His tension eased a moment later when he saw the big guy led another man, scavenger by the looks of him, who had his hands tied behind his back.

Doesn’t look starved enough to be a ma
chete man, and he isn’t one of the Elect, so who the hell is that, another murderer?

“Hey Frank,” Annette greeted the hulky man in front. “Who do you have here?”

Frank stared at Jeb and the machete men for a second, then a light dawned in his face as he remembered he had been asked a question.

“Him?” he nudged the trussed scavenger. “He stole a bag of flour in the market.”

A babble of voices erupted as several people all started telling what they saw, talking over each other in the urge to be heard.

“Settle down! Settle down!” Annette said. “OK, one at a time. Who’s the injured party?”

“I am,” a middle-aged woman stepped forward. “I’m Leona Jameson. I have market stall 32.”

Jeb blinked. Their market had at least 32 stalls? He’
d never seen one with more than twenty.

“Go on,” Annette said.

“I was just doing my trading, making a deal with a different customer, when I spot this guy swiping one of my measures of flour.”

“I have the stall next to Leona,” a man nearby said. “I spotted
him and shouted just as she noticed.”

“He did,” Leona nodded.

Several other people babbled their agreement.

Dumb fuck doesn’t know how to swipe som
ething. The whole damn town saw
.
Jed thought.

Annette turned to the thief. “And what do you say?”

The man shrugged. “They got me.”

“Can you pay the reparation?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Frank, take him to his shelter and take out a reparation for Leona here, plus enough to cover Burb expenses. Then find a place to lock him up until this time tomorrow.”

Frank looked surprised. “We’re starting the jail thing already?”

Annette nodded. “Yep. That’ll make the Burb Council hurry its ass up to build us a proper jail. In the meantime, see if you can use Ahmed’s spare room.”

Frank laughed and led his prisoner back down the street. Most of the crowd stayed to stare and Jeb and his companions. Jeb, on the other hand, couldn’t stop staring at Frank and the scavenger as they walked away.

“What you gawping at?” Annette asked.

“Law. You got law,” Jeb said, barely able to believe his own words.

“Yeah, and don’t you forget it.”

“I remember what that was like,” he whispered, not caring if Annette heard him.

CHAPTER TEN

By the time Susanna and the other three women were led back to the barracks they were almost fainting with exhaustion. Their arms hung slack at their sides, every muscle aching. That last bag of flour had taken ages to fill. They’d gotten so weak that it was a monumental effort just to turn the hand mill one rotation. Each little trickle of flour from the spout seemed to mock them. The bag sagging in its limp emptiness on the floor looked bottomless.

Yet at last they had finished. Back in the barracks they ate in numb silence and slept until dinner. That evening another group was t
aken out to work. Susanna noticed that the guard who took them was the same who had touched Donna. When they came back a couple of hours later the look on one woman’s face told Susanna all she needed to know—Abe would stop the guard if he saw him try something, but Abe didn’t want to see.

When the guard appeared, Donna turned her face to the wall and covered herself with her blanket. Susanna’s heart ached for her. During the march she’d been shared around by some of the Elect, especially one brute named Jeb. Susanna had been Jeb’s servant, shining his boots and mending his clothes by the fire while trying not to hear what was going on in the tent just a few feet away.

The sun set and the interior of the barracks grew pitch black. Susanna and Donna huddled together in one bed, using their two blankets and their own body heat to try and keep warm.

“We have to get out of this place,” Susanna whispered to her friend.

“How?”

While Susanna couldn’t see, she imagined the look of despair on Donna’s face.

Yes, how? They were too weak to run. They had no weapons except for whatever tools they could pick up. They had nothing.

No, that wasn’t quite true. They only appeared to have nothing. The guards around them were careless. If Abe hadn’t come in she would have smacked
the guard with that wooden handle and tried to get his gun.

And then what? Fight her way out? The guards would have slaughtered them all.

She had to think. The guards would probably get more cautious as she and the other porters grew in strength. The time to act was now. Soon, anyway. First build up some strength, and don’t make any moves unless that guard or one like him forced them into it. Then, if a similar situation presented itself, she could get a weapon and use the guard as a hostage. Demand food and safe passage. That might work.

She was amazed at her boldness. She’d always been the quiet one, rarely giving her opinion and even more rarely listened to. Back at her settlement she had farmed and cooked and kept quiet, letting others make the decisions
and take the lead. She had always been pushed around. Not in any nasty way, the others at the settlement had been nice enough, but they had always assumed they could tell her what to do.

And they’d been right.

So what had changed? Susanna thought for a moment. It had been Eduardo. It had been that moment when she looked at Eduardo’s corpse and chose starvation over cannibalism. Others would have chosen to eat him. The self-styled survivors. The pushy ones. The greedy ones. The ones who didn’t have a line they wouldn’t cross. The ones who thought she was weak. She wondered, if the roles had been reversed, whether Eduardo would have eaten her.

That didn’t matter. The fact remained that she had drawn a line and put herself squarely on the side of decency. So what if she lived in a fallen world where decency was considered a fault? She was going to be good anyway.

That goodness might get her killed. The lawless ones were right about that. This wasn’t the kind of world that rewarded goodness.

The hard knot inside her that had first formed when she had thrown away her firestriker clenched even tighter. So what if the world didn’t reward goodness? Goodness was its own reward.

It had to be. Otherwise life wasn’t worth living.

She drifted off, her last fragmented thoughts still turning over her place in this sad world, morphing into dreams in which she was someone different, a hero from one of the old stories, fighting on the side of right and vanquishing evil.

She smiled in her sleep. Dreams were so much better than reality.

The next morning they were given breakfast and allowed to walk out in the sun for a short time. Susanna was relieved to see the guard with the groping hands wasn’t on duty. When Abe came looking fo
r workers to help dig a well Donna volunteered. Susanna knew why. Worn out as Donna was, she wanted to take a shift when that man was off duty. Susanna hung back. She was too tired to dig, and she knew that man had no desire for her.

The work crew was led
away and the rest had some time to sit in the sun. A woman came over with a basket full of potatoes and a few knives and ordered the prisoners to peel them. Susanna did as she was told without a word.

“And do it right,” the woman said as she left with an a
rrogant swagger. “I’ve heard how lazy you people are.”

Everyone set to work. It was an easy task even in their weakened condition. As she set to it she gave furtive looks around. A guard sat on a tree stump not far off, shotgun on his lap. He didn’t seem to be paying much attention. The others worked meekly. Rage rose up in her. How could they be so submissive? She bit the feeling back. Hadn’t she been the same all her life, and didn’t she look just like they did right now?

She turned back to her work and considered the knife she was using. It was short, dull, and badly forged. It wouldn’t make much of a weapon. It didn’t even have a point. No, she wouldn’t try to hide it. Best to get their confidence.

When they finished peeling
the basket of potatoes the woman gave them another one.

Some of the weaker prisoners began to slow down. Even this simple task proved too much for them. Susanna kept working, her hands moving automatically as she studied her surroundings. The men and women
of Weissberg went about their business. She noticed that the building she thought might be a storeroom was just that. She saw a woman come out with a bag of flour, perhaps the very one that she had ground while that creep fondled her friend.

In another direction she could see the crew digging the well in the distance, using picks and shovels to break up the earth and put it into leather buckets. They were on the slope of the hill where the palisade dipped down to incorporate a lower area. Still, they’d h
ave a long dig before they hit ground water. There was a stream just at the base of the hill but Abe and his followers obviously wanted a water source inside the walls in case of a siege.

Now that the Righteous Horde has been defeated, who are they afraid
of? New City?

As she watched, one of the old men collapsed, his shovel falling to the ground beside him with a clatter. The crew’s guard stormed over and berated him. The rest of the diggers didn’t look like they were making much progress either. As the guard’s attention was diverted they all stopped working. He spun around, gestured with his gun, and they bent over and started digging again. The old man struggled to
his knees and used his hands to fill one of the buckets with dirt.

Susanna glanced back at the man guarding her own group. He was watching the well crew with a snide grin. She checked that no one else was looking and then tucked a potato in the inside pock
et of her shirt.

Eduardo’s shirt
,
she reminded herself.

Her heart raced until she could assure herself that she had gotten away with it. In the Righteous Horde what she had done would have earned her an immediate death sentence. She didn’t think she ran su
ch a risk here. She’d probably only get a beating or a day without food. Abe seemed like the type who wanted to think of himself as a good person, as long as he didn’t have to think too hard about it.

The woman came back for the second basket and scanned t
he work crew with a sneer. Half of them had dropped out. It had been nearly an hour and the last potatoes were still being peeled. Once they were done she collected the knives and counted them. Then she turned to the crew.

“Stand up and turn out your pocke
ts,” she ordered.

Susanna tensed. Everyone stood. Berating herself for being so incautious, she stood with the rest of them.  She turned out her pockets, grateful that Eduardo’s shirt hung loosely on her so that the inside pocket and its precious contents didn’t bulge out.

What if they search inside our clothes? Lots of people have pockets inside their clothing to hide things.

Whether or not the woman was going to order them to do that, Susanna would never know, because an old man near her turned out his po
ckets and a potato fell out. He hung his head.

The woman went up to him and smacked him across the face.

“I knew we couldn’t trust you people!” she screamed. “Just a bunch of filthy scavengers and fundamentalists!”

She smacked him again, harder this time. The old man staggered but didn’t resist. He didn’t even try to dodge the next blow.

“I lost a cousin to you scum, and my best friend!”

She hit him again. Her face was twisted with rage, teeth showing in a snarl. She shook all over.

Then she drew a Bowie knife out of a sheath on her belt.

“Don’t!” Susanna screamed.

The woman rounded on her.

“What? What did you say?”

A chill ran though Susanna. She staggered back a step. The woman strode over to her, gripping her knife.

“That’s enough,” the guard said. He sou
nded bored.

The woman stopped, her knife shaking she gripped it so hard. Susanna was frozen in terror.

If she takes another step, run.

I’m not sure I can.

And even if I can, where do I run?

“I said that’s enough. Abe says we can’t kill them,” the guard said.

The woman’s eyes narrowed. At last she sheathed her knife. Susanna fell to the ground, trembling.

Be strong. You have to be strong.

“Abe should have never brought these pieces of shit here,” the woman said.

She turned from Susanna and walked past the
old man, who cowered. She gave him another slap, picked up the basket, and walked away.

Susanna remained trembling on the ground.

“You OK?” a soft voice asked.

She looked up. To her surprise it wasn’t one of her companions. It was a Weissberg woman. She was well dressed and well fed, and yet had a sympathetic look. Susanna blinked. It was the first kind look she’d seen from a stranger in a long, long time. The woman reached out her hand. Susanna took it and the woman pulled her up.

“I’m Bridget,” she said.

“I’m Susanna.”

Susanna looked into Bridget’s eyes and saw no falseness there.

Suddenly she was filled with a desperate hope.

Maybe there’s a way out of this prison.