The man made a soft groan and struggled to his feet.
“You’re staying with me now. You let me know if you see anyone coming, that’s all. You’re my lookout.” He kicked the son’s body. “It’s a shame he died or he could have helped too.”
The father grunted.
Mara slapped the man gently on the cheek. “There’s a good boy. You need a name.” He smiled. There was only one name it could be.
“Scab.”