by Vance Huxley
“Just let me lock the study up.” Harold set off down the street with Hazel still hopping about impatiently. “Ask Casper and Emmy to join me please, Hazel. Then you keep clear in case there’s trouble.” Hazel ran off at top speed and Harold shook his head and smiled.
At the gate Alfie came out of the guardhouse, number one. “He’s got those overalls on, and the bloke with him would make a perfect boyfriend for Liz, or Casper.”
“Thanks Alfie. Keep an eye open for any others while I talk, all right?” Alfie went back indoors and Harold stood on his box to look over the barricade. Hazel was right, a big posh car with a white cloth tied to the aerial sat at the end of the access road and there were four men round it. Cooper pointed at Harold and spoke to the short, squat man in the middle, a young man, maybe in his mid-twenties with a bald head. When he moved Harold got the impression that his girth wasn’t flab. Behind him stood a man who couldn’t be far short of seven feet and built like the proverbial outhouse.
“Are you Soldier Boy?”
“If necessary. You must be Cadillac. How can I help you?”
“I am Cadillac and you can give me back my property. What you took from the men who were trespassing.” Cadillac stood relaxed, as if he’d made a perfectly reasonable request.
“Your men opened fire without warning. When they were told the rules and where the border is, they continued to use foul language and shoot at my people.” Harold kept his own voice calm and reasonable as well, because this wasn’t a hopped-up nutter demanding this and that.
“Foul language?” Apparently shooting wasn’t significant.
“Yes. Please be warned. We do not tolerate foul language and you will be fined.” Harold looked up at the houses on each side to show how he intended enforcing his rules.
“Yes, we have rules as well. May I come closer?” Cadillac paused. “Without breaking any rules?”
“You can come inside, if you disarm.” Negotiating would be a lot easier without the Army listening.
“I would want a hostage out here, just in case there is an accident. The big bald man or the black woman with the startling hairstyle.” Cadillac sounded as if hostages were expected and he’d got some real information about who lived here, and who was senior in a way. “I will bring my bodyguard, but he will disarm as well?”
“I’ll go.” Casper had come up behind Harold. “One of that lot would say the wrong thing to Emmy and she’d kill them all.”
“I’d leave the biggest one for you in case he’s gay.” Emmy had arrived as well.
Harold ignored her and called to Cadillac. “You get Casper and he meets you halfway.” Harold saw the man turn and speak to the others before answering.
“My men will be polite, and no foul language.” With that he started up the approach.
“Cripes, where are the car keys?” Harold looked each way because they were kept in one of the houses.
“I’ll sort it. Do I have to disarm?” Emmy had come loaded for bear, or Cadillacs.
“No, because this is our home. I want Alfie in the room with your shotgun, Casper, because that big bloke would take some stopping.” By the time Jon came out to drive the ‘door’ out of the way Emmy had collected Alfie, and Casper had handed over the shotgun without the Army seeing it. “Keep your machete Casper.” The door opened and Casper set off. He looked up and spoke briefly to the big man and carried on down while Cadillac and his man came in.
The polite greeting included handshakes for Emmy as well but Cadillac’s eyes were everywhere, weighing and assessing. Harold took the two men into number three as he had with Kabir. Cadillac didn’t seem startled by Emmy being armed or perturbed by Alfie standing in one corner with a shotgun though he did double-take when Holly turned up with the beer, also armed to the teeth.
“I’ve heard about you. The survivors are torn between being in love and being terrified.”
“She has that effect on most men, although those who get to know her aren’t terrified.” Harold glanced at the big man. “I would have thought your bodyguard is more terrifying.”
“Big Mack? He’s a pussy-cat once you know him. Aren’t you?” Cadillac smiled at the big man, who hadn’t spoken up to now.
“Unless you mess with Cadillac. Then I ‘ave to ‘it yer.”
Harold smiled. “I’d best not mess with Cadillac then. Now, you wanted to discuss the fracas between your people and mine.” Harold wanted to swear because the suave bastard had got him doing it, treating this as some sort of almost amicable meeting. Though maybe it would be if the bloke didn’t push too hard.
“Yes. I might have got a garbled version. You say that the weapons were taken as a fine for trespass, foul language and opening fire without warning.” Cadillac smiled but not with his eyes. “Bugatti didn’t realise he was trespassing. You haven’t put up any markers.” He looked round the smiling faces. “What did I say?”
“The only time we put up a marker we used three bodies tied to lamp posts and nine heads.” Harold shrugged. “Since we fought off the mob the Army haven’t allowed us out because of the weapons in the ruins. Today they let us out again and we found two parties of trespassers.”
“Two?”
“The others accepted their warning and the rules and left without trouble.” Harold smiled. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted Bugatti as a marker?”
“That would have led to a different sort of visit, with rather more men.” Cadillac sat in silence for a few moments. “I can accept a fine but the amount seems excessive. Can we run through what happened from your point of view?”
Harold, with some help from Alfie, got it all straight. When they’d finished Cadillac took a drink of his beer and thought for a few minutes. “So you warned Bugatti before you fired, and he fired without warning. I must have a chat about him being truthful and wasting ammunition even if it causes, um, unpleasantness.” Cadillac glanced at the women with a little smile as he avoided his first choice of words. “Very well, I can understand why you need some recompense. All of the firearms is excessive, especially since you took all the ammunition and machetes. After all, you killed four of mine.”
“Three. Razzle was alive when last seen.” Harold found himself in a genuine negotiation over the relative values of a fine for shooting without warning, trespass and foul language. Cadillac definitely rated dead men well below getting his firearms back and didn’t mind spending time haggling. He even bought beer for his other two men and Casper since the negotiation took so long. Cadillac seemed smooth, but Harold watched his eyes and the hot spark of anger that came and went. The gang leader tried to appear urbane but violence lurked, and not all that far behind the façade.
Eventually Harold kept three handguns, a crossbow, and the machetes and ammunition from the dead and Razzle. Holly’s wounded victim paid a fine, his ammunition, for shooting at Casper’s party, and his machete for foul language. Bugatti paid the same fine. All the knives were personal weapons and everyone lost those, “for being so bloody stupid and getting captured or killed.” Cadillac really did consider all the rest his personal property and assured Harold the men in question would repay the losses, though he seemed quite relaxed about ammunition. A worried Harold had to assume the Hot Rods had plenty.
Once Cadillac had his machete again the gang boss paused at the gate. “With you being Army and such a good shot, how come you wounded those two instead of killing them?” From the way the gang leader’s interest sharpened, that wasn’t a casual remark.
Harold thought for a moment about how to reply, about what Cadillac might be trying to find out. “I killed the first one because he was aiming at me and too close. I took a snapshot at the man with a shotgun to stop him firing and knew I’d get either his face or hand. The other man was aiming at someone else but I could see his hand and wrist.” Harold put absolute sincerity in his voice. “If they pull that stunt again, I will shoot them dead.”
“You really can shoot then. I’ll tell Samuel he is lucky you were in
a hurry, and a finger is better than an eye. I intended coming to see you anyway after hearing from Kev and Cooper, because we need a proper meeting soon. One between you and I and all the neighbours this side just to make sure we understand each other’s rules. It will be cheaper.” Cadillac looked up at the bypass. “Away from nosy people with big guns.” He held out a hand. “Not exactly a pleasure, but the beer is a pleasant surprise.” Big Mack carried a crate under one arm, paid for with coupons already bearing the second thumbprint.
Casper set off as soon as the Hot Rod pair cleared the gate and they crossed halfway. When he arrived back Casper wanted a serious word, right now. “They trade women, I mean they swap them with other gangs. Those are seriously nasty people Harold.” Then Casper sniggered. “I thought they’d choke when I asked about the big bloke, if he was straight or gay. I doubt there are any gays in their lot at all from the answer, though neither actually insulted me straight out.”
Harold held out the coupons Cadillac paid with. “He had a pocket full of these, coupons with the second print already on and several different names. Protection money. He acts really smooth but that bloke is a nasty piece of work.” Harold scowled. “Worse, he seems to have lots of ammo. What he gave up just now didn’t bother him, but was a significant increase for us. We don’t want a war with that lot.”
“Yes, and I did think he might do that, start a real fight, when he found out Holly really did kill one of his men. He’s got a lot of control but I reckon the Cad has a hell of a temper. The nasty, vicious type and he really doesn’t like women who fight.” Emmy looked towards the gate, towards the sound of the car turning and driving away. “That Bugatti bloke is in a lot of trouble, because he’ll take it out on him.” She smiled. “Couldn’t happen to a better bloke according to Holly.”
“We will have to take some precautions before the meeting. Just in case he decides on some payback.” The rest agreed with Harold, and also about not wanting to stand around any longer nattering in the cold.
* * *
The next morning both pickups and the minibus came round onto the road because the boundaries needed marking as soon as possible, even if that cost scarce petrol and diesel. By then Orchard Close had a logo. After tea the previous evening an intense discussion started over different logos, from an apple and pear through to a skull with one eye and a rifle. Daisy wanted to know what all the drawings were for, since she wasn’t asked to join in. “A picture to show that we are Orchard Close.”
“That’s easy.” Daisy picked up a marker, drew two parallel lines with a cloud at the top, and a few circles in the cloud. “There, an apple tree. Draw lots and it’s an orchard.” She looked puzzled when the five adults burst into laughter.
Over the following days, all along the border, walls and houses sported a spray-painted tree with Orchard Close one side and Keep Out the other. While doing that the small community began to get an idea of what they had claimed, or been given. The spray painters were also realising that Orchard Close itself was the only part that still had both electricity and water, so there were no other inhabitants.
No permanent ones anyway. Three men and a woman, all loners, ran away when they saw a group from Orchard Close. From the state of their houses, those people were living rough and scavenging what they could. After the first loner ran away the Orchard Close team investigated and found warm ashes in the grate. After that the guards looked out for the occasional thin lines of smoke that could be seen first thing in the morning, showing where more loners had lit fires. The marking and mapping groups checked any such smoke immediately.
Harold had stopped going on the salvage and mapping runs to concentrate on sorting through and where possible, reloading the amount of used brass being found. The much less frequent live rounds were even more welcome. A radio call from Emmy disturbed him from the work. She had checked on reported smoke while heading out on yet another mapping expedition and needed Harold and his rifle.
Harold used his pickup so it was only minutes before Emmy flagged him down. She pointed at a pair of semi-detached houses. “Someone is still in there. Whoever it is started to leave through the back, realised the scavenger line could see him, and ducked back inside. Did you bring it?” Emmy looked as Harold opened the rear cab door enough to show his big rifle and smiled. All the groups now called Harold at any sign of trouble. There would be no more relying on seeing a throat or other soft spot.
“Do you know if there’s more than one?” Harold tried to see himself, but the houses appeared to be deserted. “Which one are they in?”
“The one with a decent roof.” That meant only a few broken tiles, whereas the other house had a large patch of tiling smashed and the felt beneath ripped open. “Do you want me to call out? A woman might be better.” Emmy scowled. “And if they’re the other sort they might come after me, and then you can just shoot them.” News of the offer to join up for a woman, and then Casper’s assessment of how Hot Rods treated women, made a few of the Orchard Close females almost eager to shoot someone.
“Send Suzie out. You’ll just scare them, or they’ll stagger out love-struck and we’ll get no sense.” Harold settled down with the rifle where he could see the front and side. “Who is round the back?”
“Alfie and Billy with a little rifle and pistols.” Emmy set off and a few minutes later Suzie walked out into the front garden across the street from the strangers.
“Hello there. We know you are in there. Please explain who you are and why you are hiding.”
A man’s voice answered. “Go away.”
“Come out and talk to me please.” Suzie stood poised, ready to duck, even though there had been no sign of a weapon or even movement.
Or not until the door cracked open. “Then will you go?”
“No, we live here. Our people are looking for food so we can’t leave strangers here without knowing who you are.” Suzie flipped her hood back and opened her coat. “See, no weapons.” That also emphasised Suzie’s sex, if her skirt and voice hadn’t got the message across.
A grey haired and bearded head came around the door and looked up and down the street. “Who else is there?” He looked more carefully at Suzie. “Can you show me your upper arms, please?”
“Really? All right. I’m not a druggy.” Suzie took off her coat. “Be quick because its cold.” She pulled the sleeves of her jumper up for a long moment, then pulled them back down before putting her coat back on. “What was that for?”
The man came out a little bit further which showed that he held an axe, one of the big fire-fighting types. “Bruising. How are the women treated where you come from?”
“Well Harold doesn’t allow foul language, or abuse, if that’s what you mean.” Suzie sounded unsure. “We can carry a weapon if we want to? What do you mean?”
Harold knew what the man’s problem was now. He clicked his radio. “Emmy, show him how well armed the women are. He’s got someone he cares about in there, a girl or woman.” Harold knew when Emmy showed herself by the expression on the man’s face, at first wary and then a small smile.
He relaxed and came onto the doorstep. “Who are you people, and who is in charge?” He frowned. “What will it cost to get a woman one of those crossbows?”
Harold stood, leaving the rifle where it was. “Nothing. Any of them can carry one if they will use it. May we come in and meet your family?” He smiled. “I’ll send a crossbow in first if you like.”
The man looked at Harold for a long time, weighing that up. “No need, though I’d like those two ladies to come in first please. Just so my, um, family understand.” Emmy and Suzie walked across the street and he showed them in, then a few minutes later Emmy waved Harold over.
The man stopped Harold in the hallway, though he could hear Emmy and Suzie talking to someone in the nearby rooms. “Hello, I’m Barry, and my granddaughters are through there. We’ve been running for three days. Some men called Geek Freeks came to our houses and said we had to pay pr
otection. They also told us they’d want some women.” Barry gripped his axe tighter and Harold gave him time to come up with what bothered him. “One of them came back and tried to take Matracia, Matti. He grabbed her and then threatened her with a machete when she pulled free.” Barry sighed and looked down at the axe. “I had to stop him.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No! Or at least I think he’ll live. I don’t know.”
“That’s a pity because sooner or later that one might see her and try for payback. You’ll have to stay out of sight until your daughters either grow or cut their hair and dye it to look different.” Harold smiled. “You could shave off the beard and then dye your hair. How come you had that handy?” Harold nodded towards the axe.
“Oh, well, I’m a fireman. Was a fireman, and on the way out of the city the lads at the station left me some presents. Matti has its baby brother through there, and Dolly, Doll, has the man’s machete.” He gave a big wracking sigh. “I doubt either of them could use the things, but they feel a bit better that way. With all that, I’d appreciate you being sort of careful through there. Matti is a mess because he, he handled her and she thought I’d run off.”
“No need for me to go in. Grab your gear and come back with us, and Emmy will explain on the way. She’s the one with the signature haircut.” Harold clapped Barry on the shoulder and went back out. He stayed with the mapping group while Barry and his family came out with their bags and headed back to Orchard Close. Doll, the one with the machete and a cowboy hat, had already started an intense discussion with Emmy.
* * *
Doll, Matti and Barry were perfectly happy to adjust their appearance so they could slip into the life of Orchard Close anonymously. The two women proved to be enthusiastic about Christmas, and keen on gathering up any coloured lights discovered on scavenger runs. The streets of Orchard Close started to take on a festive air as residents put up a string of coloured glows either inside their houses or on the outside walls and fences.
