prepared something, I’m sure.”
“Well, you said it was an open invitation.”
Marcus beamed. He was always bugging him to come over for a meal. The Doctor had been avoiding it for too long. Best to get it over with. Besides, there was so much on the agenda today that he’d have an excuse to leave early.
Twenty minutes later he was sitting at the old card table in Marcus’ and Rosie’s kitchen. Marcus poured a glass of beer for each of them while Rosie hummed some annoying tune and bustled around the hearth.
The Doctor put his elbow on the corner of the table and the whole thing wobbled, sloshing out some of the beer from his glass.
“Whoops,” Marcus said, grabbing a cloth and wiping it up. “I need to fix this thing.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Rosie said in a singsong voice.
The Doctor looked around. “Where’s Jessica?”
“She said she wouldn’t be in today,” Marcus replied.
“You have to watch that girl. Something’s not right about her.”
“She’s just happy to be having a real life here and not stuck out in the wildlands with her father.”
The Doctor grunted. That scavenger was a nutcase. He’d even created his own association of riffraff.
“Well, I can’t blame her for that,” he said. “I don’t like the guy either.”
Rosie turned and said, “She’s so glad to be here now where she can stretch her wings and fly. You know she never wants to talk about him?”
“Do you think he abused her?” The Doctor asked.
“Oh, no!” Rosie looked horrified. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that some of the scavenger parents are so strict. I suppose they have to be, but it can’t be fun for the children. Jessica is just a clever girl who wants to be able to do all the things girls do.”
“Speaking of,” Marcus interrupted. “She’s not catting around with that Parker boy again, is she?”
Rosie turned back to the stove.
“Jesus, Rosie, I told you her old man would flip out about that!”
“Don’t blaspheme,” Rosie said without turning around. “Besides, her father isn’t here. Lord knows why he hasn’t come and picked her up now that the Righteous Horde is gone. It’s like he doesn’t care.”
“Or he sent her here to spy on us,” The Doctor said. “Keep an eye on her.”
“You’re too suspicious, Reginald,” Rosie said as she brought the pot over.
The Doctor blinked at hearing his name. Nobody called him that. To the world he was The Doctor, the only professionally trained medical man he knew of, the man who healed the sick for free and kept the last outpost of civilization together by sheer force of will. People like him didn’t have the luxury of names. Especially embarrassing ones.
“We have a nice rabbit stew and mixed vegetables, plus apple pie for desert. Eat up, Reginald, you’re looking thin.”
Twice in one day. She’s doing that on purpose.
“Who’s going to say grace?” Rosie asked as she sat next to her husband. She was looking at Marcus, not The Doctor.
Marcus bowed his head, “Thank you Lord for providing this bounty and keeping our friends and family safe. Thy will be done.”
Thank you Lord for allowing people to starve and letting the world turn to shit. Thy will be nonexistent, The Doctor said silently, and yet he kept his head bowed and his mouth shut. For all her faults, Rosie’s rabbit stew was not to be missed. Clinging to primitive superstitions may have destroyed her powers of reasoning, but it sure hadn’t hurt her cooking.
They ate in the companionable silence of old friends. They’d known each other since they were in their teens, these three gray-haired citizens, and besides a bit of banter and small talk, they simply enjoyed the meal and each other’s company.
They were just finishing the apple pie when there was a frenzied knock on the door.
“I’ll get it,” Rosie said, getting up.
“No, I think that’s for me,” The Doctor said, moving faster. A bad feeling rose in his
“Well, you said it was an open invitation.”
Marcus beamed. He was always bugging him to come over for a meal. The Doctor had been avoiding it for too long. Best to get it over with. Besides, there was so much on the agenda today that he’d have an excuse to leave early.
Twenty minutes later he was sitting at the old card table in Marcus’ and Rosie’s kitchen. Marcus poured a glass of beer for each of them while Rosie hummed some annoying tune and bustled around the hearth.
The Doctor put his elbow on the corner of the table and the whole thing wobbled, sloshing out some of the beer from his glass.
“Whoops,” Marcus said, grabbing a cloth and wiping it up. “I need to fix this thing.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Rosie said in a singsong voice.
The Doctor looked around. “Where’s Jessica?”
“She said she wouldn’t be in today,” Marcus replied.
“You have to watch that girl. Something’s not right about her.”
“She’s just happy to be having a real life here and not stuck out in the wildlands with her father.”
The Doctor grunted. That scavenger was a nutcase. He’d even created his own association of riffraff.
“Well, I can’t blame her for that,” he said. “I don’t like the guy either.”
Rosie turned and said, “She’s so glad to be here now where she can stretch her wings and fly. You know she never wants to talk about him?”
“Do you think he abused her?” The Doctor asked.
“Oh, no!” Rosie looked horrified. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that some of the scavenger parents are so strict. I suppose they have to be, but it can’t be fun for the children. Jessica is just a clever girl who wants to be able to do all the things girls do.”
“Speaking of,” Marcus interrupted. “She’s not catting around with that Parker boy again, is she?”
Rosie turned back to the stove.
“Jesus, Rosie, I told you her old man would flip out about that!”
“Don’t blaspheme,” Rosie said without turning around. “Besides, her father isn’t here. Lord knows why he hasn’t come and picked her up now that the Righteous Horde is gone. It’s like he doesn’t care.”
“Or he sent her here to spy on us,” The Doctor said. “Keep an eye on her.”
“You’re too suspicious, Reginald,” Rosie said as she brought the pot over.
The Doctor blinked at hearing his name. Nobody called him that. To the world he was The Doctor, the only professionally trained medical man he knew of, the man who healed the sick for free and kept the last outpost of civilization together by sheer force of will. People like him didn’t have the luxury of names. Especially embarrassing ones.
“We have a nice rabbit stew and mixed vegetables, plus apple pie for desert. Eat up, Reginald, you’re looking thin.”
Twice in one day. She’s doing that on purpose.
“Who’s going to say grace?” Rosie asked as she sat next to her husband. She was looking at Marcus, not The Doctor.
Marcus bowed his head, “Thank you Lord for providing this bounty and keeping our friends and family safe. Thy will be done.”
Thank you Lord for allowing people to starve and letting the world turn to shit. Thy will be nonexistent, The Doctor said silently, and yet he kept his head bowed and his mouth shut. For all her faults, Rosie’s rabbit stew was not to be missed. Clinging to primitive superstitions may have destroyed her powers of reasoning, but it sure hadn’t hurt her cooking.
They ate in the companionable silence of old friends. They’d known each other since they were in their teens, these three gray-haired citizens, and besides a bit of banter and small talk, they simply enjoyed the meal and each other’s company.
They were just finishing the apple pie when there was a frenzied knock on the door.
“I’ll get it,” Rosie said, getting up.
“No, I think that’s for me,” The Doctor said, moving faster. A bad feeling rose in his
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