by Vance Huxley
“It’s happening slowly.” Gerard looked over at the naval officer and nodded acknowledgement. “I’ve been promised naval units to cover a serious attempt to move bulk stores in the next week or two, and we’ve already fuelled up several container ships. From the responses, we’ll get into Hamburg first. The Germans are a bit more pragmatic than the Dutch and Belgians, probably losing most of their country helped that along.”
Owen shrugged. “The old German government were warned about the numbers of refugees and migrants they let in before closing their borders. Did all of our people get out?”
“Over half of them, though some are still in Hamburg. Europe really didn’t go according to plan.” Joshua, the Army man, shook his head morosely.
“That was always a possibility, and why we are based in Britain where the civilian population isn’t armed.” Owen opened a second file. “I suppose we’d better start on the details. Just what did we get out, and how does that affect the overall situation?”
* * *
“We’ve got a pair of Barbie Girls in Orchard Close.” Emmy smiled. “They’ve got to be considering the ironmongery both left at the gate and how Alfie is blushing. Both of them made a big fuss of Sooty and are now sat on the path playing with puppies because Seth brought the whole litter outside. If Hilda is serious about the fluffy one she’d better get her bid in.” She paused. “That’s if we can afford to feed extra dogs?”
“I’d better nudge Hilda along. She apparently thinks getting another dog while Rascal is still alive is being unfaithful, or some such rubbish, but she’s terrified of being left without a dog.” Harold smiled, though a sad smile. “I’ve been told by at least six people that Hilda will go to pieces when Rascal finally dies and will need another dog, sharpish. Hazel bends my ear over breakfast now so it’ll be a relief to get the whole thing settled. Patricia says she’s not a vet, but Rascal is old and already on dog pain killers so we’ll only end up with the same number anyway.”
“Don’t tell Hilda that!”
“I wasn’t going to. I’ll tell her we need one of the puppies trained up properly and Rascal can help with that.” Harold’s smile had definite humour this time. “If I can say that with a straight face. I just hope he doesn’t teach the new one to hump my bloody leg.”
Emmy sniggered. “Not just yours, and he’s got worse since Lucky was on heat. Think yourself lucky Sooty has better manners.” The doormat in question thumped his tail on the path.
“How’s he doing as a guard dog?”
Emmy shrugged, then smiled happily. “Useless, but Sooty is brilliant with the kids. Thandia tolerates young children, but won’t play with them. Ask Daisy.”
“Cripes yes. At least Daisy has accepted that if Sooty will play, Thandia and the rest can be left in peace.” Harold squared his shoulders. “I’ll see Hilda, and then these Barbie Girls. Just how did this pair dress for visiting us?”
“Like women in jeans, though it’s best not to read the tattoos out loud. That Chandra wasn’t joking, though Hilda would mark them down for the spelling on some.” Emmy went off laughing and Harold headed for the library. Hilda made a few half-hearted protests, but her heart wasn’t in it so Mischief would be moving in once the pup had weaned. Harold hoped the puppy’s name was in homage to Rascal, not some sort of premonition.
Harold spent the walk from the library up the street to the group with puppies worrying, once again, about selling puppies. That had to be an improvement over worrying about being murdered by lunatics, but still a problem. Knowing what the Geeks planned didn’t help, though he felt a little bit relieved to see the pair of women. They weren’t wearing wigs or dressed in weird clothes, but they were wearing huge smiles and playing with the puppies.
“Why aren’t you wearing wigs? No offence meant, but everyone keeps warning me about women in blonde wigs.”
Both women started laughing, then the taller one with light brown hair and obscene tattoos answered. “Those are in charge, the real Barbie’s. We’re just fighters.” She held up a white puppy with black here and there. “Will you really sell her?”
“Maybe. I’m a little bit worried about what you want them for.” Harold looked over at Berry and Seth, who had been watching over the pups and might have a better read on the women. “Well?”
“They seem to be all right. They really do like the puppies so maybe they’ll be treated okay.”
“Maybe? You cheeky f…person.” The shorter woman with darker hair had started to rise and put her hand to an empty machete sheath. “Er, sorry. It’s just that…” She struggled silently for a few moments, finding words. “We came, us two, because we had dogs before it all f…, before all this and there are no dogs in Beth’s. Well one but she’s claimed. We were going to just take some from some, er, people, but they’ll just pine if we do.” She cuddled a brown puppy. “But a puppy won’t. Now are they for sale or was it just a, a wind-up?” The woman scowled at those watching. “How the hell do you lot manage if you’re pi… annoyed?”
“We say cripes.” Berry sniggered. “Or go somewhere private. I can hear Seth muttering sometimes but he never lets me actually hear any words.” She looked over at Harold. “I reckon they really want dogs, not for fighting or breeding to sell.”
“We will train them to be guard dogs as well. That’s got to be OK because some dogs will do it anyway. How much for this one? How many will you sell because we’ve got another couple of women back there who want one.” The tattooed woman held up the black and white pup. “I want Splash.”
Harold made his mind up, at least partly because Splash didn’t sound a particularly savage name. “Not the furry one because she’s spoken for. Would you prefer a bigger one? We’ve got Labrador crosses?”
“Crossed with that manic crittur by the gate? Chandra said the thing tried to tear down the fence and eat her, though he only barked at us.” The two women looked at each other. “We don’t want something like that, but the other two might want a bigger dog if possible.” The taller one chuckled. “Kara has a spayed retriever bitch who’s put on ten pounds with all the spoiling since she turned up.”
“What do you feed them?” Harold pointed to what was probably going to be Splash. “These are being brought up on rat.”
“Rat isn’t a problem though we usually sell it to the neighbours in burgers. We’ve got puppy food and all the good stuff as well, and some little furry critturs and a snake because Beth’s includes a pet shop. We can trade some? Does anyone want a hamster?” The woman looked around hopefully. “Or pot? We grow wicked pot in our weed patch.” The other woman grinned and mimed taking a long, slow drag on, presumably, a joint.
“Not pot or if so our medic will want to talk about purity, and I’ll ask about hamsters. We might be interested in flea treatment and I’ll ask about anything else we need.” Harold frowned. “Beth’s?”
“The Queen Elizabeth the Second Retail Centre. Beth’s. Customers will be robbed and hung, unless they’re really hung.” Both women grinned at that. “We’ve even got soft loo rolls, though we won’t be allowed to trade those.”
“It’ll be a few weeks before these are ready and longer for the others, so how about you let us know what you can trade. For now, have a look at the pups and come back with offers.” Harold smiled. “Buy a beer and relax.”
“We want more than a pint. We’ve brought bottles back but can only take what fits in the packs.” The taller one sniggered. “After all, we aren’t allowed across GOFS territory so we could hardly bring a motor.” She looked round. “So where’s the brewer?”
Berry opened her mouth and Harold got in first. “Oh no. You buy your beer from the barmaid here, or the barman. I’ll leave you to it for now, and someone will come for a natter about prices.” Harold could already hear some fierce bargaining as he left because Berry didn’t give up her beer without real persuasion.
* * *
Holly took off her pack with a big smile. “That’s wh
at we needed. Retail therapy, even at a Mart, though a visit to Beth’s would be better from what Berry was being offered.”
“Not a chance. You can only go to the Mart because the new soldiers up on the bypass are a bit friendlier. That and because we didn’t have to buy bulk food this time so I didn’t have to take just muscly types. Not now Curtis has finally allowed us to pillage his potatoes.” Harold grinned. “Can I help you unpack?”
“Not a chance. You might see some of what we bought, but there’s a reason you men had to turn your backs. Most of what you’re interested in seeing isn’t for me anyway. Go! Play with your Soldier Boy toys.” Holly sniggered. “I sometimes wonder what you get up to in that workshop of yours.”
“You could come and help.” Harold frowned. “There’s no gun work anyway. That’s all died away which is a shame because we were paid in propellant and ammo.
Holly opened her pack and peeked inside. “What’s in here will cheer you up, now go and dig or reap. You could pick cherries?” Holly licked her lips. “Now that might tempt me into some of what’s in this pack.”
With an incentive like that Harold took a tub out into the ruins where a solitary tree had been spared out of a whole garden just because it was a cherry tree. “Hi Alfie. I thought you’d be waiting to see if any more Barbie Girls wanted searching.” Alfie blushed scarlet.
“That wasn’t his fault. He just happened to be on the gate both times. Alfie isn’t like that!”
“Er, sorry? Blimey Hazel, I was only joking.” Harold frowned. “How come you’re out here?”
“Alfie helps me with my crossbow lessons. That’s if it’s any of your business.” Hazel waved a crossbow. “Honestly, it’s not as if you’re my father.” Hazel blushed scarlet. “Oh, I’m sorry Harold, I really am.” She seized Alfie’s arm. “Come on Alfie, you’d better take me to safety.” Harold stood watching them head back to the enclave, completely baffled. Hazel had been doing well lately, but something must have touched a nerve. He shrugged and went to pick cherries.
A very subdued Hazel ate her tea, including four cherries, in silence, and nobody else at the table seemed to know why. Though Daisy made up for any lack of talk because her personal tomato plant had produced a ripe tomato which had to be admired, and then shared. Even afterwards when a tearful Hazel apologised about her behaviour, Harold couldn’t work out what he’d actually said wrong. She finally cheered up again after the nightly computer game with the other young teenagers.
Apart from minor upsets like that, July passed in relative peace and Orchard Close began to believe the worst was over. The neighbours all seemed to be fighting among themselves or with other neighbours, or maybe busy planting or harvesting their own crops. In Orchard Close some fruit and vegetables were already being preserved for the winter though everyone knew that would never be enough. The shoppers topped up on pasta because that was light, relatively cheap and filling, and could be kept for winter.
* * *
“Harold, Harold!” That came as a shock because Harold hadn’t heard Hazel shout like that for weeks.
“Yes Hazel. Over here.” Harold stood up and stretched because he’d been weeding, again. Curtis still insisted on planting more as soon as any crop had been picked or dug up, and then the new baby veggies had to be kept weeded.
“Come quick. Its Casper and Fury.” Hazel turned and raced back towards the door in the guardhouse. Harold followed, walking because whatever had happened he couldn’t hear any ruckus now.
“What’s happened Billy?”
Billy turned from the window where he kept watch over the gardens and the cleared area around Orchard Close. “No idea Harold. Fury set off snarling and barking, followed by some shouting, but everything is quiet now. Then Hazel came through here running like a whippet.” He smiled. “She always runs like a whippet, but more so this time.”
“Ta.” Harold came out of the front door and could see Casper sat in road, up towards the far end of the street. Fury laid next to him and as Harold came nearer Casper was hugging the dog and pouring water over his head. Casper turned towards him and Harold stopped in shock. Tears were pouring down Casper’s face. “What the hell happened, Casper?”
“He.” Casper tried for a breath. “Fury, and Sukie.” He waved a hand helplessly towards Suzie’s house and then hugged Fury again. The dog whined and rubbed at his eye, and Casper poured more water.
“He got to Sukie!”
“No. He got away, my fault.” Casper hugged the dog again. “Sukie is safe. It’s not his fault.” The big man scrubbed at his face with a sleeve. “I can’t stop him, Harold.”
“But Sukie is safe, so what happened?” Several people were watching from a distance, but nobody approached and Harold sat on the kerb near Casper. “Why are you sitting here?”
“He’s strong, Harold. I wasn’t quite ready when he pulled.” Casper hugged Fury and took a moment before he could continue. “He went for Sukie, Harold, but Suzie pulled her back in the door. Even then she needed pepper spray.” Since Emmy had mentioned pepper spray for the dogs, many women carried it. Not for the dogs, for any stroppy gangsters. Casper gave a great shuddering sigh. “He didn’t get much spray, but enough to slow up and Suzie got the door shut. Then I caught up.”
“So everyone is safe?” That was the main thing. “Come on, let’s get you two home.”
“It’s no good Harold, Fury doesn’t understand.” Casper sighed again. “I can’t risk it. What if he gets Sukie, or Joey, or any of the adults? He’ll have to go.”
“You could keep him in the pen?” Harold would have agreed about the dog going, but Casper and Fury really had taken to each other and Harold remembered what Liz said, about loneliness. Casper would be a mess if he lost the dog now, and Fury made a hell of a guard dog at the gate.
“I found a small hole where he’d chewed the mesh, Harold. That was after he was shut in there for a few hours. I’ve been keeping him with me because Fury howls if I leave him.” Casper shook his head. “I’ll have to put him down Harold.” Tears flooded down the big man’s face again. “It’s not his fault!”
“No, and there’s got to be another way. He could stay in a pen out with the perimeter guards?” There were two guards out in the edge of the ruins overnight as an early warning in case of vegetable rustlers, or possibly a deer. “Maybe you could just take him a few miles and let him go?”
“I told you. Fury won’t stay in a pen and he’d howl all night.” Casper shook his head. “He’d come back and hang about if I turned him out, then Tim or Emmy would come across him out there. He’d go for them.”
“We could sell him. The GOFS or Barbie Girls might take him? They’ve both got dogs anyway, and are buying some from us.” Harold looked around but nobody came near.
“The GOFS and Barbie Girls have both got Asians and blacks. They won’t want him and I won’t sell Fury to that bastard Caddi or the Freeks. He’d pine, then get really nasty and they’d encourage him.” Casper hugged the Doberman again and Harold shook his head. He was at a loss, because the damn dog was a pussy-cat with Casper. He was sat here hugging the bloody thing, yet Fury barely allowed others to stroke him.
“There’s got to be a way, Casper.”
“We’ll go for a walk while I figure something out, Harold.” Casper and Harold got up and Fury came to his feet. “I might take a while, to give them time to get sorted out.” Harold followed Casper’s gaze and saw that a dozen people had now gathered. “They’ll want to talk to you.”
“Take what time you need. We’ll sort it.” Harold clapped Casper on the shoulder and Fury growled, just a low one but Harold froze.
“He’s just wound up, Harold. He’ll be better after a walk.” Casper turned and headed for the guardhouse and the way out with Fury trotting eagerly alongside.
* * *
Just over fifteen minutes of tears, anger and recriminations later everyone fell silent as a gunshot rang out over the ruins. “Casper has solved
your problem, now I’ll go and make sure there isn’t a second shot.” Harold turned on his heel and headed for the way out. What he’d said wasn’t really fair, and said in anger, prompted by fear that there really would be a second shot in a few seconds. That worried Harold enough for him to trot across the gardens waving off or ignoring the shouted questions from the gardeners.
The thickening plume of smoke rising out in the ruins brought some relief as well as confirmation. If Casper had built a fire he wouldn’t eat a bullet, at least not until Fury’s pyre burned out. Harold walked up slowly until he could see Casper sat on the remains of a wall, head in his hands and talking quietly. Harold waited until the big man stopped talking. “Fair thee well, Fury.”
Casper stiffened, then relaxed again. “I already did that, and the poem. I didn’t think…” His voice thickened and Casper rubbed his face. “I’m all right, honest.”
“No you aren’t, so I’ll just sit here nice and quiet until you’re ready to come back.” Harold found some bricks that weren’t too uncomfortable and settled.
“It really wasn’t his fault you know.”
“No Casper. It was whatever twisted asshole taught him all that stuff. You didn’t have to do this.” Harold took a deep breath. “I’d have done it for you if that was the answer.”
“I know. But this is the right way. Fury never knew a thing Harold, because he trusted me.” Casper drew a long sobbing breath. “I pointed at nothing and he looked there, and never saw the bullet coming.” He scrubbed at his face and sniffed. “Mercy should come from a hand that cares. Another poem.”
“The kindest way.” They sat in silence as the sun crawled across the sky until the fire finally burned down. Only embers remained when Casper stirred.
“You aren’t going to leave, are you?”
“Not without you.”
“Hard-assed soldier bastard.”
“We’re handy sometimes.”
“I’ll come back in a bit.”
“I’ll walk with you.” A long silence followed.
