by Vance Huxley
“No Holly, Lucky wouldn’t do that. We should let them out.” Sal took hold of the rope.
“You’ll let more in.” Harold didn’t think the cage could stand many more dogs rolling about inside it.
“But then they can run away if they’re losing.” Bernie waved his book. “Dogs aren’t supposed to get real serious about fights. Once one of them has had enough it’ll run away. Open the gate.” Harold and Casper heaved, and the pair of dogs shot outside and set into each other again, then one legged it for the ruins.
“That worked.” Seven or eight minutes of growling and posing and snapping and the choice was down to the Retriever, the Doberman, a big crossbreed and what Hilda guessed was a Staffy cross. Those weren’t backing off and rest of the dogs didn’t fancy a serious scrap with those four. Sal frowned. “That Staffy cross thing has no nuts. How do we stop him interfering?”
“Shout bad dog? Buckets of cold water? Offer him a doggy biccy?” Harold hadn’t a blind idea but had no intention of going over there to interfere.
“Pepper spray.” Emmy waved it. “Temporary it says.”
“You’ll get them all. Go for a bucket of cold water because that’s what Mum used when the stick didn’t work.” Seth looked beyond the contestants. “How come those two, the rest of the Doberman’s pack, aren’t interfering?”
“Who knows? Chivalry?” Even as Casper spoke the cross-breed lunged, the Doberman put a shoulder in and then followed up and the big cross-breed was running. The Staffy cross tried to go up and under each of the others but they both seemed to have met that before and he moved back a bit, looking for another chance. The Retriever lunged, the Dobermann put his neck alongside the other dog’s and used that and his chest and his opponent reeled back. Before the Retriever recovered properly the Dobermann charged, and the Mastiff and cross-breed surged forward, snarling. The Retriever bolted for the ruins, and after a hesitation that was nearly a mistake so did the Staffy cross, and the fight was over.
“Okay, not chivalry but it worked. Let him get right inside, oh cripes.” Everyone watched as the three big dogs shouldered their way into the pen. Sal backed away. “If they start fighting I’m running away, because the pen will be history.”
“Good idea Sal, but they’re not fighting. Let bad boy in to see Lucky, since he’s so interested, and anyone of a nervous disposition turn away or leave.” Casper grinned. “I’ll shut the outside and be ready to open up again if this lot get fractious.”
Sal debated but Bernie shrugged and pulled the sliding partition. “These three will chew through the mesh anyway.” But three didn’t go into the back pen.
“How about we slide that back across, then I can open the outside and let the other two out. Chuck Romeo some rat if he loses interest in Juliet.” As soon as the Doberman was fastened in with Lucky, Casper raised the outside panel. He held it there for a while but neither dog showed any intention of leaving.
“Those tails aren’t unhappy. Who fancies a Mastiff bitch and a big hairy bastard?”
“Crossbreed, wammel or mongrel please, since he’s a doggy.” Emmy smiled happily. “He’s even my colour.” She moved closer and the Doberman snarled and lunged at the mesh. “Christ, what did I say?”
“I don’t know but it’s only him. The other two might still love you, especially if you’ve got rat or cat.” Casper frowned. “Stay back Emmy and we’ll work on getting these two out of here and into the other cages.”
“I want the little ones.” Seth pointed over the wall. “That feisty little git has a girlfriend along.” He paused, assessing. “They’re small enough for ratters and we haven’t got a permanent cat in the brewery store yet.”
“We?” Berry clipped him gently at the back of the head. “Don’t let Dad hear that.”
“Yes dear.” Seth checked that Nigel had left. “Would you like to start a family?” He ducked too slowly, then Berry looked over the wall where he was pointing.
“She’s got a waggy tail. OK, but you train the kids and clean up after them.” Berry also checked her Dad wasn’t about and kissed Seth gently. “Now catch them.”
* * *
“We wanted a dog to get some puppies, not three. Not only that but the bloody Doberman is nasty. He snarled and lunged at Robert and Suzie as well as Emmy.” Harold scowled. “For now anyone with dark skin is keeping clear.”
“He’s been trained that way by some racist shit. I’ll bet I can retrain him.” Casper shrugged. “I’m strong enough to handle him. You can’t say the same about the girl club and that Mastiff.”
“It’s your arm if you try to stick a lead on when Lucky finally spurns his advances, though at least he’s already got a collar. The other two took to collars all right and I’m baffled about that.” Harold shook his head. “All hell will break loose when Daisy finds out there’s three more dogs.”
“Cripes.”
“Exactly. I’m going to check on the girl club and then Emmy and Sooty. Sooty? I’m already cringing about whatever the others get named.” Harold’s dog experience was singular. The thought of three feral dogs rampaging through Orchard Close didn’t do much for his peace of mind though Harold needn’t have worried about the girl club.
“What do you think to the new doorbell?” Liz opened the door wider. “It’s all right, her tail’s wagging.”
“The noise alone nearly gave me a heart attack. Are you sure she’s not just pleased to see a snack?” Harold looked past Liz to check and yes, the dog had a really waggy tail, and a big yellow ribbon around her neck. “Is that her new name, ‘doorbell’? Is it safe to have her wandering loose like that?”
“Calm down wimp. She’s a softy though somebody taught her to woof at a doorbell or a knock on the door.” Since Umeko and Patty were both making a fuss of the big dog Harold came inside. Liz sniggered. “I’ll put doorbell in the hat for a name.”
“I still don’t understand why you aren’t worried. She’s a big feral dog.” Harold looked around at the smiling faces. “How come none of you are worried about that?”
“She’s not feral. She’s a lost and lonely girl who was probably very well loved and probably spoiled. Then five or six months ago her world was turned upside down and she lost everyone she loved.” June’s voice became softer and all the smiles in the room had gone. “She found some friends to help her cope, and they brought her to a safe place, and now she’s loved again.” A tear tricked down June’s cheek.
“Lucky dog.” Umeko bent over the dog with her face hidden.
Patty looked at Umeko, grief etched on her face. “Amen to that.”
There was a brief silence before Liz spoke up. “She belongs here anyway, because she’s managed something none of us ever could.” She nudged Harold in the ribs, gently. “Our new girl tempted Soldier Boy inside the girl club.” A few little smiles re-appeared, then more.
“Clever girl. Obviously a natural.” Gayle turned away to rub her face but was smiling as she turned back. “Though too late since he’s been nobbled.”
Patty sniggered. “Nobbled, hobbled, trussed and oven-ready.”
Harold did his bit to lift the mood. “Don’t tell me all the girl club like being slobbered over? Haven’t any of you got any taste or class?”
“Depends who is slobbering.”
“A bloke is talking about classy?”
“We’re training her to fetch, preferably men.”
Harold shook his head. “I’m getting out of here while my innocence is intact.”
“It is? I’ll speak to Holly.” Liz walked back to the door with him. “Some aren’t so keen on a big dog so we’re re-shuffling a bit, and next door will be full of cat-lovers and cats.”
“Cripes. The cats. There’s half a dozen now and what about feeding three extra dogs?” Harold shook his head. “As usual it all seemed so simple.”
“The cats have all survived the same six months out there with the dogs, and are in here for the same reason that the dog is so happy. They are sur
vivors but remember living with people, and fuss, and warm houses. We sometimes forget its only six months since everything really went to hell, less for some.” Liz sighed. “Now give me one of those hugs and I’ll promise not to tell Holly.”
Harold hugged her. “I’ll confess anyway.”
“Good, I was going to brag.” Liz pushed him away. “Go and grovel to your wench, wimp, and stop worrying. There’s half a freezer full of rat for feeding dogs left over from winter and those with dogs will put out extra traps. We aren’t going to be short of rats any time soon.”
“Cripes no.” Harold wandered down to see Emmy and Curtis and found Sooty enthusiastically giving paws for bits of something.
Emmy waved a tiny morsel. “We keep calling them dog chews and look, they are.”
“They’re supposed to be food, person food.” Harold knew he’d lost the argument when Curtis came in with another dried strip and scissors. Sooty whined and put a paw on Emmy’s knee because she was still holding the treat.
“Our person food, which I’m sharing with a guest. Aren’t I, Sooty? Paw, Sooty.” Either the black hairy doormat had already worked out his new name or the treat didn’t need any more explanation, since a big paw obediently landed in Emmy’s outstretched hand and his tail thumped on the floor. “Patty might want to knit something with this.” A wad of black fur sat next to a wire brush.
“Don’t blame me if you get torn limb from limb at full moon, or he steals your dinner and muddies your bed. Just remember that Daisy is off-limits and you clean up after, oh god shoot me now, Sooty.” Despite his words Harold couldn’t help grinning by the end.
“Yes, Sir! We’ll walk him outside the walls.” Emmy scratched behind a furry ear. “We’ll see if he can learn to bark at lurkers.”
“Luck with that. More luck than we had with Lucky. Now I’m going to warn Sharyn and Hazel and we’ll make Daisy plans.”
“Cripes. Luck with that.”
* * *
“They didn’t leave.” Seth looked defensive and Berry lurked in the background looking worried. “The other three didn’t leave either?”
“No because the girl club and Emmy kidnapped two of them. Then Casper stuck a chain on Fury when he’d finished having his wicked way and would have cried if I said no.” Harold looked at what was either a very fat or a pregnant Staffordshire Bull Terrier, and a mongrel with some of the same blood, and they looked hopefully back at him. “Exactly how did they end up not leaving and in here?”
“A good few of the dogs that turned up were either frightened or snarled at people, but not these two. The rest left once Lucky stopped being interesting, and this pair didn’t.” Seth gave an embarrassed shrug. “We could do with a couple of good ratters?”
“For the giant rats?” Harold could already see another losing battle since both dogs were wearing a piece of rope tied round their necks as a collar.
Berry hadn’t been able to stay out of it, and came over to administer a gentle Berrying to Seth’s head. “Will you be more careful with the ‘we’ stuff?” She grinned at Harold. “I’ll cry if we can’t keep them? That one is fixed, the boy, and Patricia says there are oodles of dog contraceptive injections anyway.”
Harold looked at the two humans and the two dogs and shook his head. “The same rules as Casper; you feed them and keep them penned or on a lead until we see how they react to others. Now you explain to Nigel that you’re starting a family.” The looks on their faces kept the smile on Harold’s face right up to his front door. “Daisy. Oh cripes.”
Three days of sulks, tantrums and general mayhem later Daisy accepted that as a little girl she had to start with a puppy. Though even then it took an archery lesson with Aunty-Holly to seal the bargain. Once she was old enough, both Harold and Sharyn wanted Daisy negotiating any trades for Orchard Close.
* * *
The smirking at Hot Rods lasted almost three weeks. “She shot me!” The man sat on the floor with a bloody bandage round his thigh pointed at Patty. “She can’t do that!”
“I didn’t use a special so he’ll keep his leg.” Patty didn’t sound the slightest bit repentant and had a special loaded to cover the man’s two friends.
“Keep that tight or you’ll bleed out.” Lenny’s voice sounded mild and neutral but the man looked down at his leg, startled, and twisted the knife and sheath to tighten his bandage.
“All right, what did he do?”
“Grabbed Gayle’s ass and when she told him to quit, said it was worth the fine.” Patty curled her lip in a sneer. “I told him to quit and he said else what. So I showed him.” She shrugged. “I could have aimed higher?”
“He’s got three layers of jeans on when I cut them open to plug the holes.” Lenny shrugged. “Maybe he thought that would stop the canes.” Lenny might be a pacifist but didn’t seem exactly neutral.
Harold looked down at the man. “Surely you knew we’d strip you and cane you at least?”
One of the man’s friends spoke up. “When you carved up the Geek, Cadillac said he would sort it out so we didn’t get cut like that. You can’t strip Hot Rods.”
“Did Cadillac tell you the result of that talk?” Harold watched the realisation dawn on their faces. “Patty, round up anyone wanting to exercise their arm.” He smiled. “On the bright side he won’t be up to carting bricks for a few weeks.” Cadillac had insisted even his fighters joined in tearing down every house within half a mile of the Mansion, and building the wall thicker and higher. His fighters complained bitterly while safely out of Cadillac’s hearing.
“I want first cut.” Gayle glared. “Oh, sorry, first caning because we can’t cut.”
“F… Jesus, you can’t make run him on one leg. They’ll kill him.” That was the other friend and he put a hand on his knife.
Harold waved his stick. “Pull that and I’ll spank you, with this. Cadillac definitely agreed with that.” Cadillac really had agreed after one of his men came back with a broken wrist and no knife. In fact Cadillac pointed out he’d have killed the stupid prat. The Hot Rods had been pushing a bit since the shooting, but only a bit so Harold didn’t think Cadillac had sanctioned the harassment. Still, the man had a point about his wounded friend, a hundred paces on one leg and he might collapse. Collapsing before the gate might be fatal because some women would try skinning him with the canes. “He’s still got one leg so half the distance.” Three mouths opened to argue, looked at how many unhappy people wielding weapons had now gathered, and kept quiet.
“Do I get to have a go, Harold?”
“Of course luv.” Holly had brought her cane.
A man behind Harold managed to speak through his laughter. “Ooh, people used to pay for that, a blonde with a cane.” Harold smiled quietly because the sheer enjoyment visitors from other gangs got from these canings made up a good part of the punishment. None of the three since the first caning had ended up as badly injured as the first. Someone from the GOFS had pointed out that if the first one had run instead of hopping about screaming he’d have been done quicker. The next three yelled but kept running. Harold smiled more as he saw how many women were coming with canes and who some of them were; the therapy was working. Elizabeth, the late Willtoo’s mum, startled him. She gave a wry smile and gestured with her cane. “I worked out the Hot Rods cost me my boy, not anyone in here, so they owe me blood.”
“Hey, Harold, did you give him the option?” Patty waved her crossbow. “Five minutes as a moving target so we can practice?”
“Not a chance.” The wounded man started stripping to his boxers. “I don’t have to be a target, do I?”
“No, and good choice.” Patty practiced on rabbits and rats and would definitely have nailed a man in well under five minutes. “Come on, everyone’s ready.” His friends carried the man to the start line, saving his leg for the run. Harold checked everyone had a cane. “Go.”
Walking back home with Holly after the man left in the back of his friend’s car, Ha
rold sniggered. “I was impressed. He moved at a hell of a speed on one and a bit legs.”
“He got nearly the same number of strikes but only a few had room to really swing. How many more will it take, Harold?” Holly sighed. “We could move up to target practice?”
“You heard me. I told him that was the penalty for a second offence.” Harold glanced at the cane Holly still carried. “I reckon this time should do it. The Geeks have quit harassing women and the GOFS never were as bad, and now the Hot Rods will get the message. If we didn’t need the business I’d stop them all coming but the coupons mean we can buy extra food. On a lighter note, how are the expectant mothers doing?”
“Barley should be a few more weeks but that’s a guess. Lucky will be brewing or cooking for another two months at least. Forget all that because tonight we have a treat. Real lettuces, not just baby leaves. Radishes, spinach and spring onions!” Holly punched the air. “Salad!”
“No meat? Anyway they’re not real lettuce, more like a handful of dandelion leaves.” Harold protested automatically since he had a reputation as a carnivore to protect.
“Curtis says we have to get used to leafy types because the old iceberg lettuce is extinct. He can’t grow them, but on the plus side there will soon be new potatoes.” Holly pulled a face. “We can’t have many because we need big fat potatoes, and Curtis is prepared to defend his baby beets with his life and Sooty. Every tiny bite size beet now is a pot of soup size beet if we let it grow up, or so he says and Emmy is backing him up. Traitor. Traitoress.”
“Potatoes? Seth will be happy.”
“No chips yet, or only the frozen ones. Seth filled whole freezers with them and burgers, which turned out to be a good idea. Look on the bright side, you won’t be eating rhubarb for a day or two.” Rhubarb plants had shown up here and there after winter and were carefully transplanted and tended as a source of vitamins. Everyone ate rhubarb despite the shortage of sugar because ‘rhubarb is good for you’ and if adults said no, the children wouldn’t eat theirs.
“I’m surprised we’re eating any veg at all so soon, because Curtis has still got us planting his seedlings and seeds.”
