by Vance Huxley
“Some of the women in the camps will probably prefer soldiers to their current options, especially if their conditions are improved?”
“Of course. We wouldn’t want the staff unhappy. Joshua, add young women of an accommodating nature to gardeners on your memo to the Army posts.” Owen glanced around. “Any more policy issues, or are we down to specifics? Good, then first we’ll want the current fuel stocks please?”
As the room finally emptied, Owen waited and indicated for Grace, Gerard and Vanna to do the same. “A quiet word please. If we have to bring in brothels, or rather when, we may have a problem within our own ranks. One of you ladies may be required to find a solution either among your special facilities personnel, Vanna, or in your camps, Grace. Gerard can arrange discreet transportation, and will have the travel plans of any target. All of you, please think about this but only think. No records.” The three murmured agreement and left quickly enough for the delay not to be noticed.
* * *
Back in the ruined city, Harold braced himself and set off up the access road. Another hurdle, another task to do on his own. Not truly on his own, but in those few short months all these trips and tasks had also included Holly. He stood while the wand passed over him, and handed over his pass. “Soldier Boy. A word please, just while the rest come through.” The sergeant beckoned a corporal to take over on the document scanner.
Harold followed the sergeant a half dozen paces away from the gap in the sandbags and the rifles covering it. “A problem Sarge?”
“Maybe. You are a very lucky young man, lucky to be alive.” The sergeant scowled at Harold. “Exclusion means keep out. I was sorely tempted.”
Harold kept his voice steady. “At the time I hoped you would be.”
“Those women disagreed.”
The barest trace of a smile flitted across Harold’s face. “The old question. Who is smarter, the male or the female?”
“Ask a married man. Now I have a more pressing question. Did something snap in your head when we didn’t shoot you? We understand the occasional thrashing because your young ladies explained.” The sergeant glared. “Mass beatings and public executions is another thing entirely, and may lead us to reassess your threat level.”
“I lost the plot Sarge. Not then, earlier because I’d survived so I hid in a dark place inside here.” Harold tapped his head. “The visiting gangsters took advantage.” Harold sighed. “We executed a man who tried to rape one of the women, publicly and yes, brutally, to stop any repeats. After all, the local forces of law and order were noticeable by their absence when three gangsters abducted and murdered a young woman.”
“We daren’t fire.” The sergeant’s shoulders sagged, and he lost his military bearing for a few moments. “We aren’t allowed to shoot anyway if they don’t show firearms. Though if there’d been a clear shot maybe someone would have tried.” He shrugged. “At that distance, downhill in the dark? We’d have probably killed her anyway because we don’t have snipers or even sharpshooters at every guard post.” He straightened. “The mass beatings?”
“Every single one of those men had said something obscene to a woman at least twice. I used to stamp on that quickly, but this time it had all got out of hand.” Harold really smiled this time. “We use stripping and canes and women for the humiliation. Just a beating wouldn’t work, and our food is too precious to waste on prisoners.”
“Obscenity?”
“Effing and blinding Sarge. If we stop them there it goes no further, and the women call it spanking to rub the lesson in.” Harold watched the soldiers passing the rest of his group through, smiling and even making a couple of small jokes. “If they aren’t stopped, hard, the likes of those gangsters don’t stop. Do you lot have any idea what happens to ordinary people in the other enclaves?”
“Rumours, very nasty rumours which I don’t want confirmed. Some things aren’t rumours, such as women luring squaddies into the dark and lunatics shooting at soldiers for the hell of it.” Sarge looked out over the city. “There is a growing habit of referring to everyone in there as the animals. I’m pleased you still seem to be civilised even if the term is stretched a bit.”
“We call them animals as well Sarge, but only the ones in charge. Try to remember that; it’s the ones in charge and the rest are just folk. Surely you see that on Mart days?” Harold looked along the road both ways but saw nobody. “Where is everyone?”
“The soldiers are no longer needed because very few people use this road to get to a mart. Something about having no weapons at the other end. Now you see our problem Mr. Miller, we don’t see any of these ordinary folk you talk about.” Sarge glanced at the crowd now gathered on the road. “Your little tribe is ready Soldier Boy. I will remind the men to be polite. Wouldn’t want any of them spanked.” He smiled, nodded, and went back to the soldiers.
“What was all that about?”
“I’ll tell you on the way, Emmy. Just in case I forget to mention it, let the chips and beer brigade know they are doing a fantastic job. Ask them to keep smiling to remind the squaddies we’re human, because the rest are now the animals.” Harold frowned. “We really don’t want the men with machine guns thinking of us as animals.”
“Cripes no.” Emmy sighed, shuffled her pack a bit and settled into a steady walk. “I really hope we find a couple of those scroats there today. I know you’re all chivalrous and that, Harold, but could you do me a favour?” She grinned. “On account of my stunning looks, and the effect I have on all you bad boys.”
“Maybe.” Harold couldn’t help smiling. “Though the effect is blunted by having your fella along.”
Emmy scowled. “That’s why if I point to a bloke and say lamp him, I want you to flatten the little scroat. Curtis isn’t a fighter, Harold. He’ll do it if he has to, like for Gabriela, but he’s not like you or even me. A couple of the bastards said things, tried to wind me up.” Emmy didn’t speak for a few moments, then she continued but quieter, slightly embarrassed. “They did, but I’m not that much of a fighter either without a crossbow. None of us are except you and Casper and so we had to swallow it and that really eats at Curtis. If I point, break the little shit’s arm for me, yeah?”
Harold thought, but not for long. “I owe you that at least. Would you like me and Casper to hold him so you can do it?”
Emmy giggled, a welcome sound. “I’d love that but a crowd would gather and there’d be a full-scale riot. Just smack him good and hard and do that macho bullshit thing.”
“OK. I’ll wander across and have words with Casper in case he’s nearer.”
* * *
They’d barely started shopping before a hand pointed. “Hit that one Harold.” It wasn’t Emmy who spoke, because by the time they’d arrived at the mart and distributed the iron bars another six people had mentioned someone needing a good smack. A few questions and they all meant one of two possible targets and Harold really did want to hit someone, so now he didn’t hesitate.
“Fucking hell, why did you do that?” The man stared at his friend, curled up on the floor moaning and nursing his arm.
“Language, ladies present.” As the speaker looked round Casper caught him with a full-blooded slap to the side of his head. Casper was bloody angry as well, and his victim ricocheted off the steel shelving and folded up in a heap on the floor. The other six with machetes and aluminium baseball bats backed away, brandishing weapons.
“Fair warning. Just because I’m not along when this lot come shopping, don’t get mouthy.” Harold glared at them. “That little scroat thought he could act tough if I wasn’t here. Don’t make the same mistake.” Harold fought down a smile as something crossed his mind. “Just because I don’t come a couple of times, don’t get ambitious because?”
Emmy, Bernie, Sal and Jeremy got it and chorused “I’ll be back.”
“Cripes, missed that one. Hit another, Soldier Boy.” Patty sounded disgusted with herself.
Harold picke
d up one of the two machetes on the floor and held it out behind him. “Here, hit your own.”
“Hey, that’s…” The man looked over the group facing him and changed his mind. “What are you going to do to him?”
“Nothing. By the time that heals he should have found some manners. Let him know when we’ve gone, will you? He’s not really listening right now.” Harold smiled happily as the gang retreated round the end of the aisle. Hitting a scroat really did make him feel better.
Casper picked up the other machete. “We could strip and spank them as well.” He eyed the two men. “No, not my type. Patty?”
“We’ll fine, them their weapons, those fancy shoulder pad thingies, and coupons because they’ll have stolen the coupons anyway.” Emmy bent over the man cradling his arm. “Remember me? I’m going to rob you. Do you want to make some smartarse comment?” The injured man actually shook his head and Emmy laughed. “Hey, Harold, I wanted him to give me an excuse. Does that make me a bad person?”
“I’m really bad as well in that case.” Curtis grinned down at the man.
“Nope, just a bad girl’s main man. Come on, give me a hand.” Minutes later a laughing group headed off to get the rest of the shopping.
Ten minutes later Casper frowned and looked at the empty aisle. A couple of shoppers were leaving the other end. “I’m getting twitchy.”
“Me too. Either someone is going to ambush us and doesn’t want witnesses, or word about our manners is spreading.” Harold looked both ways. “I really hope the marts are still banning missile weapons. A couple of crossbows would really ruin my day. Did we get carried away?”
“A bit, but you know it felt wonderful and the little scroat deserved everything he got. Mine was just high spirits.” Casper smiled. “Spam.”
“Wash your mouth out with soap. Oh, no, that would taste like spam anyway.”
“Not as a swear word, idiot, as a missile weapon. You said missile and there it is in front of me. After all this is the meat aisle, loosely speaking.” Casper reached out and then tossed a can up and down in his hand. “Bet I could chuck this right across the mart.”
“Not just you. Emmy? Gather the faithful because Casper has an idea.” The faithful looked at the cans, listened to Casper, and stocked up.
“I really hope someone else will eat all this.” Emmy curled her lip and looked at a can before putting it in her pocket where it was handy. Any novelty associated with spam had worn off. “I’m lousy at darts, or those things at the fair, the coconut shy.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll need volume of fire. Someone will dodge Casper’s and you’ll brain him.”
“Spam for brains. Is that worse than crap for brains?” Patty looked at her can critically. “This could do with work. Liz could add a couple of big spikes and a dozen small ones, artistically arranged.” The group carried on shopping in high spirits, chortling about the scroat-smacking and cracking more daft jokes. There were shoppers in other aisles here and there, but no ambush, and eventually Harold’s group gathered by the checkout aisles.
“They’re waiting outside then, but still can’t use missile weapons.” Casper frowned. “Or are they allowed crossbows outside now?”
“Not in the yard or those delicate guards might get scratched.” Harold put the cans of spam in his pack. “We have to split up because only one shopper goes through at once. Has anyone been through the exit for non-shoppers? People not paying for anything?”
“No. We’ll not be able to take the spam, but weapons should be all right.” Patty seemed dubious.
“We’d better ask someone before most of us go through there in a group and get arrested. Who looks the most innocent and helpless? No Emmy, no, Patty. Actually, Patty, if you can keep that look then gormless might do it?”
Patty moved on to indignant and then laughed. A quick assessment and they had a candidate. “Me?” Matti giggled. “Innocent? I’m flattered.” She looked around. “Wait one minute, here.” Jeremy accepted her iron bar. Matti wandered far enough to not be in the group and waited.
“Excuse me but I’ve been separated from my group. Will I be safe going out through there?” Matti pointed at the big exit sign with the list of warnings. “Will people take knives and things in there?” Matti certainly managed to look naïve, or possibly stupid.
The youth looked suspicious, then smiled. “Yes, it’s dangerous. I’ll take you through if you like because look, I can protect you.” He showed Matti a big sheath knife. “I’ll take you to meet my group and we’ll look after you.”
“No ta, I’ve just seen my lot.” Matti headed back to the rest sharpish. “He’s going through with a big knife, so iron bars and machetes should be good.” She looked at the packs. “Cripes, who’s expected to lug that lot through the checkout?”
* * *
By the time Harold dragged the last pack into the second, smaller room after paying, and opened the outside door, loud cheering told him the result. Casper looked in and grinned. “I told you they’d be fine. They had to do this without you Harold.” He looked at the heap of packs. “D’you want a hand?”
“Cripes no. If someone comes in from out there it might lock and send us off to a bloody work camp. Just drag them out as I put them near the door.” Outside Harold could hear laughter and jeering and some cries of pain. By the time he brought the last bag out, a bedraggled group were limping or being supported out through the gates. “What happened?”
“We came out and seven of them were waiting though they didn’t look so keen when we turned up in a group. Our lot didn’t give them the chance to decide if they wanted a fight.” Casper laughed. “Alfie yelled ‘get the bastards’ and the rest followed him, and three of those silly sods tried to run. By the time I caught up this lot had trampled the ones who stayed and run the rest down. The one you hit must have felt poorly because he’d stayed back there by the gate, and he got away.”
“Hey, how many machetes do you want, Harold?” Emmy grinned and waved one in each hand. “It’s a pity we can’t take them home. We can’t, can we?”
“Sorry Emmy.” Harold smirked. “We could sell them to the mart guards.” He looked at the shoulder pads. “You captured some of that lot?”
“Oh yes. We fined them all their coupons and weapons, then spanked three for potty-mouth.” Matti beamed. “We told the guards on the roof what we were doing, and the one over there volunteered to come down for a spanking.” The laughing guard waved back at her.
“With an iron bar?”
“No, we used the flats of the machetes.” Patty sighed dramatically. “This is when I miss the internet. YouTube would have loved, it a zillion hits worth.”
“We can’t carry those full packs as well as ours.” Harold didn’t feel really comfortable with daylight robbery, but the robbery had already been accomplished. He settled for minimising the profit so as not to encourage his people down that road in the future.
“We can take the good stuff and just scatter the rest of the groceries about for the other lucky shoppers? Who were that lot anyway? They weren’t any better at fighting than we are.” Emmy looked thoughtful. “They weren’t Hot Rods or GOFS and the Geeks reckon they go the other way to a mart.”
“Those were Ferdinands and they’re supposed to wear American football gear. The shoulder pads are right, but they didn’t have any helmets.” Harold frowned. “Caddi is fighting with them and told me the fighters wear helmets.”
“Maybe the helmets are all used up, because one of them wore this and it’s knackered now.” Jeremy offered what looked like an American football helmet, but the two depressions and a deep thin dent across the crown had probably ruined any protective capabilities. “I hit it with an iron bar and he went wobbly-legged so Matti kicked him.”
“I hurt my foot. He was wearing something under his jeans.” Matti smiled happily. “So I bashed his arm and he dropped the baseball bat.” She batted her eyelashes. “Can I keep it, pretty-please?”
�
�No, or one of those up on the bypass will come over all rough soldier. Now let’s see if these guards want souvenirs.” After a quick conversation with the laughing guards the weapons and shoulder pads were all thrown along the floor towards the armoured car. The guards promised to collect them later, and threw down cigarettes in exchange. The cigarettes would be traded, since everyone in Orchard Close had quit because of the price.
Eventually a dozen happy shoppers gathered behind a ruined shed and ostensibly moved items from pack to pack to spread the load. While that happened the iron bars were screwed back into place. By the time Harold led his group up onto the bypass there were people picking over the groceries scattered in the yard and loading up. The soldiers all had little smiles, but were meticulous with the wands to make sure no machetes were being smuggled. The whole trip back the group were still laughing and joking, and eventually Harold decided his conscience could live with the robbery part.
* * *
“Open up or I’ll huff and I’ll puff.” Harold had turned the handle and then nearly hit his face on the door when it didn’t open. A bar scraped inside and Liz opened the door. “Cripes Liz, when did you start locking yourself in?”
“After that scroat got to Celine. I never heard a thing, Harold.” Liz did look worried. “Between my music and bashing on iron he could have been stood right behind me.” She pointed. “So now I stick that bar across.”
“You’ll hear someone breaking that.” Harold reassessed the flat iron bar. “I’ll hear it, fast asleep at home.”
“Good. I’d fooled myself that the first time, after Gabriela, was because it was the first time. If it was really life and death, I thought I’d manage to do something. Then I just froze again.” Liz sighed. “Now you’ve done it, I need a wimp-hug.” Harold hesitated. “Don’t be silly. That wench of yours knew hugging me meant sod all, now come on.”
