Fall of the Cities: Putting Down Roots

by Vance Huxley

  Liz stayed two houses back in her ‘mousehole’ while the other three women went into a guardhouse. As soon as he stepped up onto his box Harold could see just how angry the shooting had made Cadillac, too angry for common sense. A show of strength made no sense against someone inside buildings armed with crossbows and firearms, especially since the Hot Rods had to keep firearms concealed from the Army. Unless Cadillac wanted everyone here at the gate? “Alfie?”

  “Yes Harold.” Alfie looked down from a window in his guardhouse.

  “Where’s Casper and Emmy?”

  “Emmy is over there in the other guardhouse, Matthew has the side wall and Casper is at the far end in the corner house.” Alfie grinned. “Just like you told us. Don’t leave the back door open.”

  “Sorry, I’m not quite with it yet.”

  “You and a few others. I’m too young for booze so my conscience and head are clear.” From his smile Alfie also seemed to be in a terrific mood.

  “Ouch. Stand by, here we go.” Out front Cadillac and four others wearing overalls had stood clear of the crowd. Harold cupped his hands. “Good morning Cadillac.”

  “Soldier Boy. I’ve come to get some answers.”

  “I told Cooper you should. Did he pass on all the message?”

  Cooper stood on the right. “Yes I did you cheeky shit.”

  “Careful Cooper, that is a bit borderline and you aren’t at the border. Cadillac, are you here to cause a problem or solve it? A loose mouth won’t help either way.” Harold watched Cadillac and Cooper speak to each other before Cooper glowered and turned away.

  Cadillac turned back and shouted. “I told you, I want answers about yesterday.”

  “Then come in here and we’ll do it civilised. I won’t play question and answer like this.” Harold didn’t mind the question and answer part, but shouting in public like this Cadillac would grandstand. He had to be the big tough gang boss where his men could see and hear. “Bring up someone who can keep a civil tongue.”

  “Send the pouf down.”

  “Not today, not after calling Casper that. You can come and talk without a hostage, or we wait until all that lot go home and then do it the usual way.” The pouf part was grandstanding, and if Cadillac kept it up someone in the guardhouses would get angry and start shooting. “If you are trying to wind me up, remember the discussion we had about that the first time I visited? Some of my people might have weak bladders.”

  Harold could actually see Cadillac bottling his anger, forcing it down. Cooper still stomped up and down on the far side of the seven cars and thirty plus men. “I‘ll bring Charger, but I will want answers. I keep my machete.”

  Harold understood a face-saver. “You can, but Charger turns his in. Come on up when you’re ready.” Harold watched as Cadillac talked to some men, shouted at some and punched one. Cooper came through the group and dragged that one away into the crowd. Kev wore overalls and helped to control everyone, but Porsche and Bugatti were missing today. Another muscular type in overalls smacked gangsters round the head when they argued.

  Eventually most of the men got back in their vehicles and Cadillac started towards the gates with Charger. “Alfie? We’ll need beer in number three please.”

  “And a shotgun I reckon. Do you want a second one so Emmy can stay here and keep watch? Doll could bring one?” Alfie laughed. “Sorry, it’s the look on your face. I’ll send someone sensible, not Doll.” Alfie really seemed in a hell of a good mood. He called to someone inside and Hazel came out the door and ran up the street. By the time Cadillac and Charger reached the gate Seth had appeared in the doorway still hiding his sawn-off. Holly came from the other house and Harold smiled as Patty followed, lugging her crossbow.

  “Seth, please search them and don’t get too personal because neither will have a serious weapon. They aren’t stupid, or won’t be when they see that sawn-off. Just be careful where it’s aimed.” Harold turned to greet the others. “The same with that Patty.”

  Patty smirked. “No problem. I’m the sensible one.” Both Cadillac and Charger heard that as they came through the gate and neither seemed convinced. They still didn’t seem certain when both were sat in comfort in number three.

  Alfie followed the rest in. “We should call this the embassy.” He took off his coat and slid the shotgun strap off his shoulder. “These are my diplomatic credentials.”

  “Mine too.” Seth had already opened his coat, then Holly took off her coat to show the two-two rifle and finally Harold took his coat off. Cadillac’s eyes fastened on the rifle slung below Harold’s shoulder.

  “That’s what I wanted to see. How far can it shoot?”

  “Accurately? I don’t know. A thousand yards maybe? This is a real classy bit of kit.” Harold sat and moved the rifle so the light played on the stock inset. “I don’t know exactly what a Blaser R8 Professional Success is, or who the hell Ivythorn Sporting are, but I bet I couldn’t afford to buy one from the other.”

  “So you can’t shoot it?”

  “Of course I can because this is a superb bit of kit, and I’m genuine shooter not some half-trained scroat. I totally stitched the idiot I bought it from. I’ve trained someone else on the other big rifle now and Holly with my two-two, because I won’t need either. We’ve got four people now who can probably shoot as well as your man, hit bodies at three hundred yards.” Harold shrugged. “Just in case I suffer a mishap. All four would do even better using this.”

  Cadillac scowled. “But they couldn’t kill a man stone dead with a single shot at six hundred paces. We paced it out.”

  “Cadillac, I have not shot any of your men lately. I only shoot people who ask for it. Who got shot?”

  Cadillac hesitated. Harold could see how hard the gang boss had to struggle keeping his temper but he managed it. “A newcomer from somewhere else but I will not stand for people being killed on my doorstep. I have to take action.”

  “Because your men demand it? I saw them out there, Cadillac, they’re in a hell of a mood. What’s winding them up?” Harold saw the anger flare, then die back. Charger kept very quiet and watched Cadillac rather than the ones with guns.

  “You are, you and your shooting! Half of them are shit scared. Who the hell else could it be?” Cadillac pointed. “There aren’t many big rifles about and you’ve got two.”

  “I’ll bet you have as well.” Harold waited until Cadillac conceded that with a short nod. “It doesn’t have to be ex-Army, and anybody who owned something like this would be a damn good shot.” Harold shrugged. “I had to show off to back you lot down, but someone else might keep their shooter as a surprise. Tell me what happened.”

  “You know.”

  “Pretend I don’t if you won’t believe me. Humour me.”

  “You, he, did it from six hundred paces lying in the roof of a house. At least two men were there for a while according to the marks in the dust and the crap in the toilets. One shot that killed him stone dead and then they disappeared.” Cadillac scowled again. “Now explain how that isn’t a sniper, you.”

  Harold frowned to hide his smile. “One shot through the head at six hundred? That really might be ex-Army.”

  Cadillac sneered. “No, through the body. Even you can’t head shoot at that range.”

  Harold smiled now. “I told Cooper once to remember what I said about placing the original test targets. Why didn’t I use a scope?”

  Cadillac couldn’t remember but Charger spoke up. “Boss, Porsche was on about it. Soldier Boy said he didn’t use a scope because there wasn’t time to take the targets half a mile.”

  Harold held his smile, careful not to let it become a mocking grin. “I shot the furthest target through the head, not the nearest.”

  “That was…. bullshit.” But Cadillac had paused. “Bugatti reckoned the bullet was right through the heart though I doubt anyone could be sure. Half his f... bloody chest came out his back on the other side.”

  “It would if someone used a hunting rifle li
ke this.” Harold grinned. “I know one thing about hunting from seeing the toffs hunt deer on the TV. They kill a deer the size of a bull when it’s on the next hillside over, by shooting it through the heart and lungs.” Harold leant forward. “That’s a hunter’s shot, to stop the whatever running off wounded.” He pretended to think. “How high up, was it a house or a bungalow?”

  “House, why?” Cadillac anger still flickered in his eyes, but now curiosity showed as well.

  “If it had been an Army sniper he wouldn’t have waited for the target to come outside your gates. From up there he’d see over that wall of yours and shoot whoever he wanted on their front doorstep, up to a thousand yards. I think the top kill to date is over a mile and a half but with a proper sniper rifle and ammo. That bloke killed two men with only two shots.” Harold smiled. “But not through the head.” He held both hands with the palms up. “See? Innocent m’lud. I wouldn’t have pissed about for days in an attic.”

  Caddi frowned and sat quiet for long moments. “Run through that again, please.” Curiosity had definitely dampened his anger now. Five minutes later, after going through the hunter versus sniper part again, Cadillac accepted the shooter might not be Soldier Boy. Or at least the gang boss claimed he accepted that and would explain to his men. Then maybe he’d cane a few or send them to patrol the border with the Barbie Girls so they really were frightened.

  “Surely they’d like that? All those girls?”

  “Fair warning Soldier Boy, if you see a woman in a blonde wig, shoot her.” Cadillac’s smile became more snarl. “Through the head. They got Porsche and that wasn’t pretty.”

  “What about Bugatti?”

  “He’s cleaning his boxers after I suggested he came with us. Pussy. That’s why I’ve got Chevy and E-Type out there to kick arses.” Cadillac stood up. “I accept what you said, that you haven’t shot any of mine on my territory. I hope we can avoid these sort of misunderstandings in future.” The careful phrasing had to mean that Caddi still thought Harold did the shooting, but conceded the target wasn’t a Hot Rod without openly saying so.

  Cadillac’s really had bottled his temper now and although not his usual urbane self, the gang boss had himself back under control. Harold shrugged. “I hope so as well. We’ve got enough troubles without. Do you want any beer?”

  “One crate please. I’ll go down to sort out my blokes and send some of them home, and Charger will wait here for the beer.” Cadillac nodded to Holly and left followed by Alfie and Patty. Harold sat and chatted about how the stream of groups and loners had stopped now, and if there might actually be unclaimed areas down south, and the possible food shortages and London. Charger kept well clear of anything to do with shooting.

  Alfie and Patty came back with the beer, and Seth followed the Hot Rod to the gate. “Most of the cars have already gone.” Alfie chuckled. “They’re not happy.”

  “But they’ll be good now. Wait until I tell the rest.” Patty also had a huge grin.

  Harold frowned. “Tell them what? Cadillac is still as mad as hell, even if he hid it.”

  “He was crapping himself. Maybe not quite but you just frightened the nasty bastard.” Alfie smiled happily. “All of a sudden he wants a nice peaceful solution, even if he has to beat it into a few of his men.”

  “No, he finally got his temper under control.”

  “Helped by the bucket of cold water.” Patty sniggered. “What was it?” She looked up and held one hand out palm upwards. “See, innocent. I would have shot him on his doorstep.” She sniggered again. “Cadillac realised just whose doorstep would be in view from that house, or a lot further away.” Harold, and then Holly, began to smile because that was exactly when Cadillac had really started to calm down.

  “Don’t tell the others. One of our lot will say something to wind up a Hot Rod, it’ll get back to Cadillac, and he’ll have to kill some of us to save face.” Harold nodded gently. “I mean it. Settle for the Hot Rods backing off a bit, if that happens.” Harold grinned and hooked an arm round Holly. “Someone is fed up of the shooting after the dancing and kissing.”

  Patty took the bolt out of her crossbow and let the tension off. “Aren’t we all, even if some of us ain’t got to kissing yet.” She smiled as Alfie blushed bright red.

  Nobody crowed about Caddi backing down, but they did smile happily at the visiting Hot Rods, and a couple asked how Jon-athon was? That or mentioned Harold shooting stray dogs.

  *   *   *

  “That’s odd. We’ve seen three stray dogs today and I haven’t seen three dogs in one day for ages.” Holly frowned. “Not since the council banned them.”

  “Yeah, it’s bugged me on and off. All the films and books had packs of them roaming around hunting people.” Harold laughed. “They’re all heading for Orchard Close so Lucky will have company.”

  “Oh. Are they all dogs, boy dogs? Some of the girl club thought Lucky was acting strange and then, well, Sal took her to Patricia, and Lucky is in heat. She’s wearing a sort of nappy thing while we find out what the times and procedure are, especially when we’ll need a bucket of cold water for Rascal though Hilda says he’s too old.” A big smile broke over Holly’s face. “Puppies, we could have puppies?”

  “Maybe. This lot aren’t exactly the tail wagging type of dog, and might eat the hand that tries to feed them or puts on a lead.” Harold watched a big crossbreed as it ran between two houses. “Maybe the whole arm?”

  “We’d better get back and warn Sal she’s got gentleman callers.”

  Sal already knew. “Rascal tried to get rascally. Hilda is utterly mortified.” From inside Bernie’s house Lucky complained loudly about being locked in, while several Prince Charmings answered with promises of rescue from outside the wall. “How long does this go on?” Her face dropped. “How often does it happen? Is there a pill for dogs?”

  “Not this time because we want the tippety tap of tiny claws. Tiny claws that will grow up tame and bite nasty scroats climbing walls.” Holly smiled happily. “Little waggy tail puppies. Bagsy one because Daisy will want one so we can share.”

  “Cripes.” Harold turned towards the outside wall. “We’d better work out how to audition for suitors.” One look over the wall and Harold went to find experts, or people with a vague idea. Seth reckoned his Mum’s dog had injections to stop her coming on heat, and Patricia thought she’s seen something in the vet supplies Harold had scavenged. Hilda never had a bitch but set into searching the library for information helped by Veronica and Hazel.

  “We need a trap.” Casper rubbed his hands together. “We can use old roof timbers and the wire mesh we scavenged to keep birds off, and make two or three cages.”

  “Two, three? How many boyfriends do you think my girl should have?” Sal glowered. “She might not be that sort of girl.” Everyone laughed. “All right she will be, but even so?”

  “I thought we could catch more than one dog. After all, Lucky turned out well. I’ll get…” Casper’s face dropped. “Damn. I’ll go and get Sandy’s tools instead of getting Sandy. Zach was sort of training and so was Wade, and Stewart wields a mean saw. We’ll manage.” Casper looked out over the wall. “Throw some rat or cat to keep the ones we want interested.” He smiled at the laughter. “All right, it’ll make them less wary, they can’t be more interested.”

  Lucky started whining and wanting a run on the wild side six days after seeing the first potential boyfriends lurking in the undergrowth. The library books and the dog’s condition agreed, so real auditions could be started and candidates wouldn’t be hard to find. Several had already been chased back over the wall where it was only five feet high.

  By the time the cages were set out anyone even slightly interested had looked over the candidates, and the debate heated up. “The snipped ones won’t be interested, will they?” Bernie leafed through one of the books, because after all Lucky had moving in permanently. All official now, complete with plastic confetti so Liz must have passed on the deal se
aler.

  “Yes they will.” Seth sniggered. “Mum thought that and had to beat one off with a stick when a friend brought him round.”

  “I know how she felt.” Seth winced and looked guilty as Nigel spoke, but Berry laughed.

  “We need a dog about the same size as Lucky. Don’t we?” Harold shrugged. “That made sense until I said it.”

  “A larger dog might mean the pups are too big.” Veronica ducked her head as everyone turned. “It says so here.” She waved a book then passed it to Seth. “Here, you read it.”

  “Why? Oh, right. According to this doggy love can take a while. We’ll need someplace secure for Lucky and her boyfriends to stop interruptions.” Seth frowned at the cages. “We’ll have to adapt those.”

  The following day a very happy Lucky bounded out of the house on her lead. Ten minutes later an unhappy Lucky sat in her cage and complained. “I don’t like taking a bit of wall down.” Casper pulled at the loose bricks. “Though at least it’s a crappy bit.”

  “A low thin part which we’ll rebuild thicker with all the nice bricks in those buildings over there.” Harold grinned. “If we get some big puppies we might end up with a dog trailer to pull them.”

  “The wall had better be built before the puppies get big enough for that.” Seth frowned. “Why am I heaving bricks? I’m a brewer’s apprentice.”

  “It’s not the brewer or the brewing you’re learning about. Mind your fingers.” Holly let go of her rope and a heavy sheet of ply dropped across the front of the cage. “Gotcha, daddy dog.” She set into pulling on the rope to bring the ply up again. “What if we get more than one?”

  *   *   *

  “They won’t share or come in together was a bad answer.” The two dogs in the large cage were fighting while outside the lowered ply the Doberman and several others really wanted to get in as well. At the back of the big cage a slightly smaller version held a very excited Lucky. “Is she egging them on?”