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

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