Refugees from the Righteous Horde (Toxic World Book 2) by Sean McLachlan Page B

the edge of our lands and banished on pain of death. I promised you your life and you’ll get it.”
    “I think you mean that,” he said, obviously surprised.
    “I do, but don’t mistake kindness for weakness or it will be the last mistake you’ll ever make.”
    The corner of Jeb’s mouth twitched upwards and his eyes briefly left her own to glance up and down her body.
    “You’re a tough customer. I like that.”
    Annette rolled her eyes. Great. She hadn’t had so much as a kiss in years and in the past few days she’d attracted the attentions of a pimp and a machete man. She preferred celibacy.
    Clyde and a couple of his men managed to disperse the crowd. As people returned to their homes and market stalls, Pablo and a couple of his friends came up. Pablo carried his most prized possession—a baseball fro m the Old Times. One of his friends carried a stick carved into the semblance of a bat. All were covered with dust. Annette frowned when she saw that Pablo had torn one of the knees on his pants again. She hated sewing.
    “Hey mom!” Pablo said, giving her a big hug before turning to stare at the prisoners. “Who are they?”
    “People from that army that attacked us,” Annette told her son.
    Pablo took a step back. Jeb knelt down.
    “You Annette’s son? Your mom saved us. We escaped from that crazy guy and your mom sav ed us. Hey, that’s a great baseball. I used to play a lot when—”
    “Don’t talk to him!” Annette barked.
    “Sorry,” Jeb said, standing up. “It’s just nice to see kids still playing baseball. My dad taught me.”
    “Did he now,” Annette said, unimpressed. What was t his guy playing at?
    Jeb gestured at the other boy with the carved stick. “Taught me how to carve a bat too. I could make one ten times better than that. Guaranteed homerun every time.”
    The boys’ eyes widened.
    “Really?” Pablo said.
    “Go play!” Annette said.
    The boys headed out, Pablo looking back over his shoulder at Jeb. The prisoner watched them go.
    “Baseball, damn. How long has it been?” he whispered.
    “All of you keep your mouths shut unless you’re asked a question,” Annette told them.
    Just then she spotted Ahmed and a couple other members of the Burb Council approaching them at a fast walk.
    M ore trouble. Just what I needed.
    “What’s this about putting a criminal in my house?” Ahmed demanded. “And who said you could take prisoners from the Righteous Horde?”
    “Oh great, they got fucking Arabs here,” the big redheaded prisoner grumbled.
    “I thought I told you to shut up,” Annette said.
    “You got Chinamen too?” the man glowered at her.
    “I got bullet with your name on it if I hear another word out of you.”
    The prisoner curled his lip but didn’t reply. Ahmed glared at him and turned to Annette.
    “The Burb Council hasn’t authorized taking prisoners or approved a jailhouse,” he said.
    “Which is why we have to keep the thief at your house,” Annette replied. “Do you have room for these prisoners too?”
    “Absolutely not!”
    Annette smiled. She really shouldn’t enjoy this so much; it was bad politics. Jackson cut in.
    “I move that we create a jail right away.”
    “With what funds?” Ahmed asked.
    “None right now. I have some spare canvas for a shelter. Clyde, can we borrow some razor wire to make an enclosure?”
    The Head of the Watch nodded.
    “Sure. We can set it up in the open ground in front of the wall. That way my sentries can watch over them without being taken away from their du ty. I won’t have to assign an extra guard. This is only temporary, mind you.”
    “That will be fine,” Jackson nodded. He turned to his fellow council members. “We have a quorum here, all in favor?”
    “Aye,” Ahmed and the other two said.
    Ahmed added, “What about the thief in my spare room?”
    “He’ll have to stay. It’s only for a day. Wouldn’t be fair to put him in with this lot,” Annette said.
    Ahmed thought for a moment.