Refugees from the Righteous Horde (Toxic World Book 2)

by Sean McLachlan

  Annette and Jackson traded glances. They both looked back at the machete men, a sad remnant of the Righteous Horde. Annette glanced back at Jackson. He rolled his eyes and gave Annette a look that said,You got to be fucking kidding me.

  She shrugged, turned back to the machete men and called out to them, “Um, you guys want to surrender?”

  They stared at her. The two she had marked out gave her calculating looks.

  Watch out for those two.

  The guy leaning against a tree dropped his machete. Annette wasn’t sure if he was surrendering or had dropped it because he lacked the energy to hold it anymore.

  “You. . .you mean it?” he asked.

  “Um, yeah,” Annette said. “Surrender now and you won’t be harmed.”

  They all dropped their machetes. Annette noticed the big redhead dropped his last.

  “Put your hands above your heads and move forward,” she ordered.

  They did as they were told.

  “That’s enough.”

  The machete men stopped.

  “What are you doing?” Christina demanded. “These guys killed a couple of my friends!”

  “We all lost friends,” Annette replied.

  “We don’t have the authority to take prisoners,” Christina said.

  “Nobody told us we couldn’t,” Annette said. “Besides, they’re no danger.”

  Christina turned to the other members of the posse. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “Annette’s in charge,” Jackson said.

  Nice of you to recognize that for once, Annette thought.

  Christina turned to Charley, who shrugged. With a growl she turned on the machete men.

  “One false move and I’ll kill every one of you, understand?” she said.

  “Calm down,” Annette said. “Jackson, go check if there’s anyone else down there.”

  Jackson walked a wary loop around the prisoners and peeked down the gully.

  “Nobody. Oh wait, here’s a backpack matching the description of the one the scavenger stole. Where did you guys get that?”

  The one with the calculating eyes spoke up. He addressed Annette instead of Jackson.

  “Last night we made camp and when I went out for firewood some scavenger jumped me. I killed him. Was he a thief?”

  “Yeah,” Annette said with a nod.

  “Well it looks like they’ve saved us some trouble!” Charley said with a laugh.

  “We never wanted to cause trouble,” said the man who confessed to the killing. “The Pure One didn’t give us a choice. He and the Elect killed anyone who disobeyed. It was follow orders or die. I’m just glad it’s all over.”

  Annette studied him for a moment. Jackson disappeared down the gully and returned a moment later with the bag. He opened it and peered inside.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the case of the purloined chickens has been solved!”

  Annette motioned to the nearest prisoner with her shotgun. “You, move forward. Charley, frisk him.”

  Charley patted him down. “Nothing. His pockets are empty.”

  “OK, you go back. Redbeard, move forward.”

  Charley patted down each man in turn and found nothing of interest.

  “Now what?” Charley asked when he was done.

  “We’re going to return the chickens and then these guys are going show us where they killed the scavenger.”

  Jackson put the backpack on his own back. “The farmers are going to want to lynch them.”

  “Hell, I want to lynch them,” Christina said.

  The prisoners shifted nervously.

  “Nobody’s lynching anybody,” Annette said. “Come on, let’s go.”

  It took some time to get back to the farm. The prisoners stumbled more than walked, and they had to rest every half mile or so. Now she understood why they had been found so close to the compound.

  The sentry on the water tower called down to the others when they came into view. By the time they made it to the fence the whole settlement was there to greet them, armed to the teeth.

  Demoyne Jefferson, the closest thing this little community had to an official leader, called out to another man. “Get some rope.”

  The farmer hurried off to the tool shed.

  “Hold it!” Annette said. “We’re taking them back to town.”

  Demoyne looked confused. “Why?”

  “They didn’t resist. Here’s your chickens. We have to keep the bag in case the murdered man has kin.”

  “Who cares if they didn’t resist? They’re Righteous Horde.” Demoyne objected.

  Annette looked him in the eye.

  “They surrendered. They’re my prisoners. I’m keeping them.”

  Demoyne smiled and put his hand up, his expression showing he thought the whole thing was ridiculous.

  “Whatever, Annette. Good luck keeping them alive in New City. If you want them lynched there, be my guest. It’ll save us the rope.”

  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 Leonard 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 but 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 and 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.”

  Leonard 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 The 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 the 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.

  Someone 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 dumbfucks 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 beard 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 machete 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 g
uy 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 something. 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 taken 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.