Radio Hope (Toxic World Book 1) (5 page)

“Going out past the farms while
some cult is scouring the lands is worth more than that, as is whatever you’re looking for if you’re so worried the Righteous Horde might find it first.”

“What were you thinking?”

“That Pablo moves in here now and stays inside until the threat from the Righteous Horde is over.”

“They’re on the other side of the mountains.
The Doctor isn’t going to authorize Burb children to come in yet.”


Make him make an exception. We’ve been caught out before. And a loaf of bread each for him and me every day for a month, not counting the days I’m gone of course.”


Pablo comes in and he gets a loaf every day for three weeks.”

“A month.”

“Done.”

Annette and Abe shook hands.

“Where can we put him up?” Annette asked.

“Marcus and Rosie Callahan will take him for not much trade. You know
them, nice couple. Don’t worry. I’ll handle it. Just focus on getting Jackson Andrews to say yes.”

“That’s going to be a tall order but that’s not what’s worrying me. It’s trekking through the wildlands that I need to worry about.”

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

As soon as Marcus got The Doctor back into the warehouse after a long day trading with scavengers, the leader of New City almost fainted in his arms. Marcus wanted him to rest before going upstairs but The Doctor refused. “No,” he said. “I don’t want a bunch of citizens gawping at me.”

So Marcus put one of The Doctor’s arms over his shoulders and practically carried him to his room. Th
rough his coat he could feel how thin his old friend had become.

“You been skipping meals again?” Marcus asked.

“Food makes me queasy,” The Doctor sighed.

“I can get some pot at the market.”

“I need to keep my head clear.”


What you need is some medicine.”

“I know, mother, but you saw the pickings today. Nobody has what I need. It’s getting harder and harder each year.”

Marcus laid him down on the sofa in his office.

“No more work today,” he told him.

“I have to see Clyde about the city defenses,” The Doctor sighed.

“That can wait until tomorrow. The barbarians aren’t at the gate yet.”

“Clyde won’t wait until tomorrow.”

“I’ll handle Clyde. You get some rest and try to eat something.”

Marcus headed out to the city gate. To one side of the gate rose a tall square watchtower. It was taller than the warehouse, taller even than Abe’s radio transmitter. Clyde had what he called an “operations center” inside and as Marcus expected he found the Head of the Watch there.

Clyde Devon was a middle-aged man with a
perpetually worried expression and a paunch that he tried to suck in behind his camouflage shirt. While army castoffs were common gear for all sorts of people because of their durability, Clyde wore all camo all the time. Marcus supposed he thought it made him look military.

It didn’t. Clyde was too young to have been in a real army, but the heap
s of books and magazines on the subject that he hoarded in his operations center had taught him a lot. While Marcus wasn’t impressed by Clyde’s airs, he had voted for Clyde to be Head of the Watch year after year because he was a good organizer and he wanted the job more than anyone else. He actually seemed to enjoy sitting up on the wall in all types of weather scanning the horizon for enemies.

When Marcus entered Clyde’s office he found him hunched over a crude, hand-drawn map of the region. His desk faced a slit in the
steel wall from which he could look out on the Burbs, the fields beyond, and the distant mountains. A telescope stood on a tripod next to the desk. On the desk a multichannel radio hissed and crackled reports from the outposts beyond the furthest farms. Along one wall stood a rack of rifles and a couple of light machine guns.

“Hi Clyde, what’s news?”

Clyde nodded, moved a rifle off the chair next to him, and offered Marcus a seat.

“The Burbs have been pretty quiet. The usual fights, no stealing. Roy put in a complaint about some scavenger in his bar
starting a fight and using hate speech.”

“That’s what he gets for living outside the walls,” Marcus said.

“Yeah, well, a man’s got to be where his business is. Annette smacked the guy around a bit. All above board. There was a bar full of witnesses so there’s no need for an investigation. Tell The Doctor I’m using Head of the Watch rights to make the scavenger leave town.”

“One less troublemaker sounds good to me.”

“We’ll have plenty of trouble soon enough,” Clyde said, narrowing his eyes and looking out at the mountains. “My ears in the Burbs have been hearing a lot. Scavengers talking about this new cult, the Righteous Horde. There are thousands of them.”

“Come on, thousands? How do they eat?”

“Strip the land clean, that’s what they say. Not like the usual bandits who leave enough for the farmers so that they can survive and be stolen from again. No, these guys take everything. And they give the people two choices, convert or die. That’s why their numbers are so big.”

“But still, the
y must be starving.”

Clyde looked at him. “Starving people get desperate. We can’t fight against those numbers.
I only got 281 combat effectives among the citizens and 370 among the associates. Only half have guns, and only half of those are worth a damn.”

Marcus shook his head. “Their numbers have
to be exaggerated. Have you ever heard tell of a roving band of more than a hundred?”

“The reports are too consistent to be dismissed. Here, look,” Clyde put the map in front of Marcus. “They can come through the mountains here and here. There are plenty of mountain paths but with a group that size they’
ll stick to the main passes. I’ve drawn up a list of citizens to watch these. Can you bring it to The Doctor? I know it’s market time but I really need these patrols.”

“You’ll get whatever you need, Clyde,”
Marcus reassured him.

“Once the Righteous Horde comes through the mountains—”

“How can you be sure they’ll come through?”

“Of course they’ll come through!
We’re ten times as big as any other settlement within two hundred miles. Winter’s coming on and the only way they’re going to survive is to loot us. I’ve sent word out to all the farmers to be ready to come in. I also want to close the gates to everyone who isn’t a citizen or associate. You can screen the traders outside the gates.”

“We
’ve already had this conversation.”

“The horde will send spies! They’re probably here now!” Clyde said, his voice rising to near-hysterical levels.

“They’ll see nothing that they couldn’t learn from hundreds of scavengers that have been in here before.”

“And whose
fault is that?”

Marcus rolled his eyes. He supposed paranoia was a good trait in a soldier, but this was taking
it a bit far.

“Look,” Marcus said once he’d regained a little patience. “Doc wants to keep an open city. It helps with confidence. Yo
u know what a symbol New City has become? There’s law here, a stable society. If we don’t have that, we don’t have anything worth protecting.”

“And if we don’t protect it properly we won’t have anything left to protect,” Clyde re
plied in a level voice.

Marcus didn’t make it home until almost past dinnertime. With The Doctor so sick he had a million things to do. So did Ahmed. The Doctor’s understudy was busy in the market all day treating boils, rashes, infected eyes, and all the other millions of illnesses the scavengers picked up. Marcus passed him on his way home and they gave each other weary waves.

“Anything serious to report?” Marcus asked him.

“No,”
Ahmed rubbed his red eyes. “One case of the flu, but the scavenger is laid up in his own tent so hopefully it won’t spread.”

“Don’t tell Doc, OK? He’s got enough on his plate.”

Ahmed cocked his head. “You know I have to give a complete report, but don’t worry, there’s nothing right now I can’t handle.”

“He’ll want to go check on that flu case,” Marcus said.

“You’re not the only one who can badger The Doctor into doing what’s right for him.”

Marcus laughed. Ahmed was a good kid.

He paused and thought for a moment. Since when had he called twenty-somethings kids?

“Try to get him to eat something, will you?” Marcus said.

Ahmed shook his head. “He hasn’t kept anything down for two days.”

Marcus grunted and headed for home.
A surprise waited for him at the door.

Abe, Annette Cruz, and a young boy stood talking to his wife. Rosie was smiling down at the boy and saying something.

“Oh Marcus, look who’s come to visit!” Rosie said as he walked up. “This is Pablo, Annette’s boy.”

“Hi Pablo,” Marcus said and extended a hand. The boy took it shyly. In his other hand he clutched a bag.

“Cómo sedice, Pablito?

Annette said.

“Hello,” Pablo mumbled.

“Oh, you understand Spanish!” Rosie gushed, “I could tell you’re a smart little boy.”

Marcus looked at Abe, “So. . .um?”

The head of the Merchants Association gave him a flat smile. “Annette here is going into the wildlands to check on the cult problem and we were thinking you might like to take care of Pablo while she’s gone. I’m sure you can clear it with The Doctor.”

Marcus glanced a
t his wife cooing over the kid.

Abe, you are a manipulative bastard.

“I suppose this is your deal so you’re trading?” he asked.

“That’s
right,” Abe adjusted his glasses. “I was thinking two loaves of bread a day for the household while he’s staying.”

Annette cut in. “Not including the loaf Pablo’s getting every day.”

Abe gave her a sour look. “Well, I suppose not.”

Marcus stifled a grin. “Two loave
s a day plus five daily radio spots while the harvest trade market lasts.”

“You have a stall this year?” Abe asked.

“Sure, not that I have time to watch over it myself. I got somebody reliable there. A few radio spots listing my wares wouldn’t hurt business.”

Abe shook his head. “I’m nearly full up with ad spots already.”

“Play less music, then.”

“People tune in for the music. Tell you what I can do. I can slip in two radio spots a day.”

“Four.”

“Three.”

“Done.”

Marcus and Abe shook hands. Abe looked satisfie
d. “Well, I’ll leave you all to get acquainted.”

As he walked away, Ann
ette turned to them and smiled. “Thanks so much for doing this.”

“How long are you going to be gone?” Marcus asked.

Pablo looked up at her. Annette put an arm around her son and said, “Not long. We got to get back before. . .you know.”

Marcus nodded. If there was a siege
, lots of the citizen families would have to take in kids from the Burbs. The Doctor had made it policy that anyone, even strangers, could leave their kids within the walls. With that and The Doctor treating everybody for free, New City had bought a lot of gratitude over the years.

Annette stroked
her son’s hair. “You be good, OK kiddo? I’ll be back to see you in the morning.”

Pablo drew a long face. “You gotta go now?”

“Sorry, kiddo, the gates are closing soon. And I need to see someone on the other side of the cove.”

“All right,” Pablo grumbled.

Rosie gave him a smile and put her arm around him. “Why don’t we go inside and I’ll fix you up some nice soup for dinner. And we have jam for supper. There’s a spare room you can have all for yourself.”

Annette gave her son a final hug and turned away quickly. Marcus stood in the deepenin
g dusk, watching her as she hurried out the gate.

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

Jackson and Olivia lay naked in the pile of clothes and blankets that served as her bed. Jackson’s hand made slow circles along her back, working its way up to massage her shoulders. The warmth from their entangled bodies made Jackson forget the acrid smell of the bay for a moment. But only for a moment.

“We have to leave,” he whispered.

“Not this again,” she moaned.

“It’s not safe here.”

“It’s not safe anywhere.”

“I’m not
just talking about the water and the air, but that new cult, they say they’re sweeping up everybody.”

“Just scavengers’ tales.”

“No, I don’t think so. They have this idea of purifying the world. They’re killing all the tweakers and making everybody else convert or they kill them too. If they come here I don’t know what they’ll do.”

Olivia
got up on one elbow and looked down at him. He ran his hand along her side and admired her body. How could someone so beautiful live in such a dump?

“We’ve always been passed over before. We’ll be fine.”

“No, We need to—”

Olivia
silenced him with a kiss, and then kept him quiet with something more.

When he finally left the sun was slanting slow to the west, giving the oily water a crimson tinge. As
Olivia waved from the doorway he picked up his cart and headed through the hills.

With the water tank empty he made better time. It was just as well. He didn’t want to be in the hills after dark. Soon he was in sight of the cove and back at the little stream where he filled his tank. Despite the evening chill he took off his outer garmen
ts and washed them, then scrubbed his face and hands to get he worst of the stench off. He washed his trade items too and carefully dried them with a cloth. Everyone knew where he went to make his living and nobody wanted to trade with him. He had to give a middleman a generous cut to trade his stuff at the market for him, and even so he had to get rid of all hint that they came from the city.

Another long walk took him to the southern edge of the Burbs, where the lights didn’t shine and the frame houses gave way to tents and shacks. His own shack was a littl
e box made up of corrugated tin barely long enough to lie down in and not quite tall enough for him to stand up. Nevertheless the door was secured with a chain and padlock. Even the meager bedding, oil lamp, and crockery that made up his few possessions would be enough to tempt some of the scavengers that lived hereabouts. Once when he had stayed overnight with Olivia he returned to find someone had stolen his roof.

J
ackson’s eyes narrowed as he saw a figure in the gloom near his doorway. A thief? He spotted a gun at the figure’s belt and was about to stop his cart and pull out his cleaver when the woman waved to him. The stranger approached and Jackson recognized her as a gunslinger from town. What did she want?

“Hello,” Jackson called to her, not knowing what else to say.

“Hello,” the woman replied. She came up to him and offered her hand. “I’m Annette Cruz.”

“Yeah, I recognize you,” Jackson said, taking her hand and shaking it. Even in the near darkness Jackson thought he could see a look of distaste on her face. “You work for that citizen at $87,953.”

“His name is Roy. He’s a good man.”

Jackson snorted. If he was a citizen he wasn’t a good man.

“Would you like a dinner there on the house?” Annette asked.

Jackson’s stomach grumbled. The only meal he’d had today was at
Olivia’s, and he didn’t want to think about what was in it. Nevertheless he was wary.

“Why?”

“I have a job for you.”

“Let
’s go somewhere else. I’m not welcome there.”

Annette looked about to object but then thought the better of it. Jackson took a key from his pocket, unlocked the padlock on his front door, and pulled away one of the chains, which he looped through the axle of his cart before putting it back through the padlock and locking it.

“OK, let’s go.”

He
led her to the edge of the market. Although most of the trade stalls had shut down for the night, several food vendors remained open, illuminated by open fires and the lights from some of the buildings. One stall was a rectangle of tables around an open fire where a sweating woman turned a spit of whole chickens. Underneath was a metal trough that caught the juice, which was ladled back onto the chicken by a man in a greasy apron.

Jackson and Annette sat down. The man came over.

“A full chicken for me, with a side of greens and a beer,” Jackson said. If this brownnoser to the rich was paying, he might as well stuff himself.

“Half chicken and a beer for me,” Annette said.

As the gunslinger haggled over the trade, Jackson studied her. He’d never met Annette before but everyone knew her by reputation. Saw herself as a keeper of the peace, something the Burbs desperately needed. Too bad that peace mostly benefitted the rich in New City.

The cook served them and Jackson tore into the chicken, holding it in both hands and not caring how it burnt his fingers.

“I’m listening,” he said between mouthfuls.


I’m going out on a scout, and I need you to come along.”

“The Righteous Horde?”

Annette nodded.

“Aren’t citizens supposed to do that?”

“They already are. We’re going further south to places I’ve never been, and we need what you got.”

Jackson looked around.

“And how do you know what I got?”

“Abraham Weissman told me.”

Jackson dropped his chicken on his plate.

“You want me to work for that turd?”

“He thinks the horde may come through a pass to the south of Toxic Bay.”

Jackson
licked his fingers and considered. He’d never thought of that, but it could happen. Olivia and the villagers would be right in their path. Suspicion rose in him.

“So why is Abe sending out his own scout?”

“Something out there he wants to scavenge,” Annette said, taking a sip of her beer. “He hasn’t told me what.”

“He’s got a hell of a nerve coming to me after what he did.”

“Abe didn’t make you start Blaming people. If everyone went around pointing fingers and Blaming others for the mess we’re in everything would fall apart. Hell, that’s how the Old Times fell apart. You know the law.”

“I also know how society works, and that people like you and I get ground into the dust by the citizens.”

“You were a citizen too before you screwed it up.”

Jackson snorted.

“Look,” Annette said. “Do you want to deliver water to Toxic Bay for the rest of your life? Abe is willing to trade big for this job. I got myself a sweet deal and so can you.”

“Running to our masters for scraps from the table,” Jackson scoffed.

Annette’s eyes narrowed. “Watch it, asshole. Nobody’s my master.”

Jackson said nothing.

“So what’s your answer?” Annette asked.

Jackson took a long pull from his beer and leaned forward.

“Here’s my answer, and there will be no haggling. It’s all or nothing.”

 

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