Free Radio Hope (Toxic World Book 1) by Sean McLachlan Page A

quickly enough. The Skullsplitters had been bigger, almost a hundred well-armed men, all long hair and leather jackets and attitude. A motorcycle gang with no motorcycles. Five years ago they’d taken over the Burbs and extracted tribute in exchange for going way. They’d come back twice since then. Each time The Doctor decided it was better to pay than fight. Better to lose some sacks of grain than a bunch of citizens.
    But now the Skullsplitters were gone, wiped out by a group far bigger than any they’d ever seen, and it didn’t sound like the Righteous Horde could be bought off with sacks of grain.
    For once Clyde wasn’t being panicky; he was being all too realistic.
    The Head of the Watch hurried back to his operations center and Marcus made The Doctor go back to his room and lie down.
    “Smoke more of that herb you never told me about and eat something,” Marcus told him.
    “Yes, mother . How about you go back home and take a break too?”
    “Probably should ,” Marcus grumbled. “Pretty soon none of us will be getting any downtime.”
    He found Pablo playing outside his home. The window was open. Music from New City Radio filtered out from the kitchen, where Rosie stood at the si nk dicing carrots and watching the boy with a big smile on her face. Marcus suppressed a sudden sadness and waved to Pablo.
    “Hey there, how you settling in?”
    Pablo ran over and grabbed his hand.
    “Come to the window, the song is about to end!” he exclaimed, pulling him toward the house.
    “What’s all this about?” Marcus asked.
    “Shhh,” Pablo said.
    Rosie smiled at him through the window and put a finger to her lips.
    The song finished. A thin, high voice came on the air, “Marcus Callahan has a great selection of items for trade at stall fifteen. Items include apples from his personal orchard. . .”
    Pablo’s face lit up.
    “That’s you!” Marcus said.
    “Yeah, I got to sit in the radio studio and everything. Ha-Ram told me they’re going to play that every day until market ends.”
    “Wow, that’s really something. Thanks!”
    Marcus felt an overwhelming urge to scoop him up and give him a hug.
    This isn’t your child , he reminded himself.
    “Pablo has been a big help too,” Rosie said with a smile. “He swept the floor and cleaned all the dishes.”
    “Mom makes me do that at home sometimes,” Pablo told her.
    Marcus saw a trace of hurt flicker over his wife’s features. An instant later she was smiling again.
    Oh Rosie, don’t get pulled in , Marcus thought . He’s a Burb child.
    “So what’s for lunch?” Marcus asked to change the subject.
    “Well, since there’s such a chill in the air I’m making more stew, but I think you’re going to have to wait to eat it,” she replied, gesturing to the street behind him.
    Marcus turned around and saw Clyde leading The Doctor to the gate.
    “Aw hell.”
    Marcus stomped over.
    “Now what?”
    Clyde looked at him, his face blank with worry. “A big group of scavengers outside. Want to have a meeting. Wouldn’t say what for.”
    Marcus turned back to The Doctor. His eyes were red.
    “You eat something yet?” he asked.
    “I was about to,” The Doctor replied , a slight slur blurring his words.
    “Go eat and go to bed.”
    “I should go see them.”
    “I’ll handle it. Go to bed.”
    The Doctor grinned. “Beginning to think you want my job.”
    “Hell no.”
    The Doctor headed back to the warehouse while Clyde and Marcus hurried to the gate.
    Clyde was right, there was a large crowd, and it was growing. They kept a respectful distance from the gate but the two guards fingered their rifles nervously.
    In front of the crowd stood the man who had brought the radios. He scowled at the guards from behind the spider of his nose bandage. Next to him stood his daughter, still dressed as a boy. Marcus recognized several of the regulars who came to the harvest market every year. He also saw a lot of newcomers.
    Newcomers were always trouble.