Fall of the Cities_Branching Out

by Vance Huxley

  A dark-haired maid opened Caddi’s front door as Harold came near, another different one. Each new one seemed to have a shorter skirt or tighter blouse. At least this one wasn’t showing any visible signs of abuse, except in her tense pose and the way she kept her eyes lowered. Harold noticed a slight flinch when Caddi spoke from just behind her. “Come in, Soldier Boy. The maid will show you through.” She did, scurrying from the front door as soon as she’d closed it to open the study door. “I considered a butler but I don’t swing that way.”

  “That might be dangerous anyway, don’t butlers clean and sharpen the knives?” Harold didn’t wait for an answer, nodding to Caddi’s bodyguard as he went past. “Hi Mack. You’ll collect dust stood around like that.”

  “You crack me up, ‘Arry.” Mack laughed. “E lets me run about a bit when you’ve gone.”

  Caddi went through the usual charade with the maid. Harold asked for white coffee and two sugars because Caddi still had really good coffee. As the maid delivered the drinks the warlord smirked at Harold and then nodded towards her. “You never say what hair colour you prefer. Do you want her to put on a wig for your blow job?”

  “No thanks, coffee is all I want.” This maid actually looked up at that and Harold gave her a slight nod before remembering he shouldn’t show interest. “Not interested.” Caddi smiled, the little one that meant he thought he’d scored somehow, and she left.

  Caddi swung into the dealing. The weapons weren’t in bad condition and there weren’t many. Harold asked and for a change Caddi wasn’t disputing a border anywhere. The cleaning and repairs were because his men were practicing. Caddi complained about wasting ammunition because the men were bored, then sourly pointed out he’d better keep them occupied or they’d spend their coupons in the Orchard Close brothel.

  Eventually the prices for the repairs and more beer were agreed, but then Caddi wanted tomatoes and lettuce. The Mansion lettuces were riddled with caterpillars and slugs, and the geese had got into the greenhouses and wrecked the tomatoes. Harold hoped Caddi didn’t find out who’d arranged that. Whoever it was made a definite donation to Orchard Close because Caddi and his fighters didn’t eat the crap from the marts, Caddi’s description.

  Eventually Caddi opened the study door and waved Harold out. “That was boring. You really aren’t any fun on these visits.” The amount of coupons, charcoal, garden produce or beer finally changing hands would depend on Charger’s assessment of the diesel van, and as usual Harold came away feeling he’d been stitched.

  Harold smiled, because Caddi always complained he couldn’t get a rise. “Fun is for home. After all, you don’t let yourself have fun in Orchard Close.”

  “True. If I’m spanked I expect the spankee to know her limits. Actually I don’t much fancy that end of the abuse at all.” Caddi sniggered. “Have you come up with any more punishments yet? I’m running out of ideas. You could practice on this one and she could tell me about it afterwards?”

  “I doubt I could come up with anything suitable Caddi.” Harold glanced at the dark-haired young women holding the front door open, with what he hoped was a reassuring look. Her eyes dropped so maybe it didn’t work.

  “Pity, since you’re staying over you could have experimented. We did look for whoever took a shot at you in the dark, but it’s very hard to spot someone sneaking about.” Caddi barely bothered with trying to sound sorry.

  “Especially when a bunch of morons let off a couple of hundred rounds in all directions and leave everyone night-blind.” Harold smiled. “Though its true about people hiding. I’m sure I saw a light on that concrete tower block as I left last time.” The tower block stood half a mile from The Mansion, at the edge of the cleared zone.

  Caddi lost his smirk. “Too true you did. I’ve got people up there watching out for lost cyclists and stray snipers.” Harold took note, if he had to shoot someone else here the bicycle escape route wouldn’t work again.

  Chevy waited outside to escort Harold to his meal and bed. “I know the way Chevy. No detours this time.”

  Chevy laughed. “Yeah, we know. Though it’s a shame. You could see the red light we’ve put up over the door. We could sell you a couple of red bulbs for your whores?”

  “But they’re fussy and wouldn’t want just any old toerag turning up.” Once again this sort of tweaking had become almost a ritual, though the Hot Rod heading purposefully towards them with a hand on his machete wasn’t. Harold checked but nobody else seemed interested. “I’m looking forward to finding out just what you call fish and chips. I’m likely to be really rough on anyone delaying me?”

  Chevy didn’t answer for a couple of moments and then he laughed again. “I can understand that.” He probably thought the headshake to the advancing gangster wasn’t noticeable but Harold had been looking for it. The man stopped, then headed off at an angle. Harold hoped that had been the extent of Caddi’s new fun and games and he could now sleep in peace.

  Just in case Chevy hadn’t got the message, Harold hammered it home. “I get enough problems with stroppy gits visiting Orchard Close, so I’m likely to be short-tempered if I’m challenged someplace else. I’m not very precise when that happens.” Caddi would understand the precise bit when Chevy passed that on.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Chevy waved towards the house door. “This should cheer you up.”

  True enough, any annoyance faded when Harold came into the dining room of the house used by Caddi’s lieutenants. “I give in, did you find some fish fingers at the bottom of a freezer?” The smell already had Harold’s mouth-watering.

  “Oh no, better than that.” E-Type, Cooper and Roller were already sat at the table. Roller waved towards a seat. “Come on, sit down. The cooks were told to have the meal ready when you arrived so it won’t be long.”

  Harold looked at the salt, vinegar and ketchup alongside the thinly sliced fresh bread and frowned. “This is a bit elaborate for a windup?”

  “Not a windup, I promise.” Possibly not because all of them looked like kids with a big secret, bursting to say something but not wanting to spoil the surprise. E-Type seemed to be a breath away from giggling. “Beer, coffee, tea or wine?”

  Harold opened his mouth to ask where Caddo had found wine, then saw the bottles. “Our beer?”

  “Oh yes, Caddi serves it to visitors now just to wind them up about what he tells them is our home brew. He’d like to sell them some but doesn’t want to make you even richer.” Cooper smiled. “You could bring your brewer over to give ours some pointers?”

  “Yeah, sure, then I’d be buying my beer from Caddi.”

  The men all burst out laughing. “Too true, Caddi would trade one of us for decent beer.” Chevy shook his head. “If he ever suggests one of us as hostage against a visit by your brewer, I’m gonna hide.” He sobered. “It’s here.”

  Wherever the fish had come from this must be the first time this lot had been fed any, judging by their rapt attention as a young woman brought in a plate heaped with big battered lumps. Another young woman put a warm plate in front of each man but they were too engrossed in watching the fish arrive to even pat her ass. The food landed in the middle of the table and four pairs of eyes fastened on Harold. “Go on Harry, you get first choice.” That was so Harold knew he wasn’t being poisoned but he didn’t care about the reason. He stabbed a battered portion with his fork and put it on his plate.

  By the time Harold reached for chips from the steaming bowl just deposited on the table the rest had claimed their fish portion and were waiting again. Harold didn’t delay them long because now he really did want to see what was inside. Salt, vinegar, and he cut the crispy batter open. Harold stopped, staring because the white flaky portion inside looked dead right, which should be impossible. “How?”

  Chevy, E-type and Cooper were too busy chortling over Harold’s reaction to answer. “Eat, because you won’t want spraying with the answer and we’ll all be chewing.” Roller promptly filled his mouth with fish and a blissful
expression crossed his face. Harold didn’t wait any longer, quickly turning fish and chips into a few stray crumbs on his plate. There were plenty of chips to finish off with a butty, before he sat back with a sigh.

  “Right, give. Has Caddi bought a trawler and air freight service or has he trained a seagull or cormorant?”

  “The fish came from a gang over to the west, called the Bargees. Maybe they’ve got a trawler because the boss is called Skipper. Ten of them came through with a big refrigerated transit. They reckoned it started the journey full of this fish. Caddi is working on an agreement with the Ferdinands or Murphies and Trainspotters to get free passage for the next trip. Otherwise the van will never get this far, not now they know what’s in it.” E-Type grinned. “I told the driver he should have a proper van with fryers and sell fish and chips, wrapped in newspaper, and he reckoned we should open a pub with your beer.”

  Harold joined in the laughter because the few attempted pubs had been wrecked the first night as hordes of heavily armed customers descended on them. A van selling real fish and chips wouldn’t survive five minutes. “If you opened a pub we could replace the dartboard with a crossbow target?” Roller grinned at Harold. “We’d have to give Patty a handicap or she’d clean us out.”

  “Can that Emmy use a crossbow as well? She must, because she can shoot.” Cooper winced. “Christ, don’t ever lend Caddi those pair for punishment practice.” All four were completely relaxed, all the gangster swagger gone over a plate of fish and chips.

  Harold found himself relaxing a bit as well, enough to enjoy the beer and backchat. “If we could find where those fish came from, Patty could shoot us some?” Harold mimed a crossbow firing downwards.

  “Oh, we know where, because the cocky bastards told us. Nobody will try to nick them unless they’ve got a frogman’s outfit. That or one of those spy or special forces things to breath underwater.” Cooper looked Harold up and down. “Did you tuck one in your back pocket when you left, Harry?”

  Harold patted his pockets. “Damn, it fell out. You still haven’t said where the fish is from except in water, and I’d guessed that part?”

  “Bloody canals. They’ve got a territory with canals on every side and some through the middle. Even the General wouldn’t fancy getting across what bridges are left.” Cooper shrugged. “Even then there’s no way to raid for fresh fish.” He held his hands out as if holding a fishing rod and put on a posh voice. “Just keep those heavily armed ruffians at bay lads, and keep the noise down or you’ll frighten the fish away.”

  After the laughter died down Roller chipped in. “I reckon it’s because of all that cleaning up that was done, the eco-thing before the crash where they cleared out the canals?” Everyone nodded because it had been a big exercise with lots of publicity. “Since then nobody has been throwing old bikes or fly-tipping waste in there so the water is finally clean enough. With the Crash the fish have been left alone to grow. I’ll bet that lot have nets or something to stop the big ones getting out of their stretch.”

  The discussion about what to feed the fish, how much water you’d need, and if there was an abandoned cut near enough for a raid to catch some little ones rambled on for a while. Once that died away Cooper and Chevy started to revert to type, so Harold went to bed. He didn’t want the evening spoiled. “Goodnight lads. It’s been memorable.”

  “Do call again sir. Just leave the waitress a tip.” E-Type stood up. “Allow me to escort you to sir’s room.”

  “Better yet, leave the waitress. We’ll need her again.”

  Harold ignored Cooper and went upstairs, escorted by E-Type, “So you don’t get lost.” E-Type showed Harold to the same room as the last time he stayed, then left. Harold closed the door and jammed the chair under the door handle instead of a lock or bolt. Then he whirled at a noise from the en-suite, stick coming up ready.

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice barely whispered. The bits of lacy something were probably meant to be sexy but not with an expression like that on her face, nor with the cane marks.

  “Sorry. I thought you were one of that lot. An attack.” Harold realised he still had his stick raised and lowered it. “Tell Caddi sorry, but no thanks.” He turned to the door and removed the chair. Before he could open it, the young woman had hold of his arm.

  “No, no, don’t. Please? I’ll be good, I promise.”

  “You don’t need to be. This is Caddi’s idea of a joke. I don’t, won’t do this sort of thing. Now off you go.” Harold tried to open the door but now the girl crammed herself between him and the exit so he had to let go or get very personal.

  She clung on tight. “He’ll cane me really hard and put me in the house if I don’t stay all night.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “Mr Cadillac said you were interested, he could tell. You can do what you want. I’ll be good, I promise.”

  With a shock Harold recognised Caddi’s ‘maid’ from this evening, realising her cane marks must have been under her miniskirt. “I’m not interested, and he knows it. Tell him I said no thanks.”

  “No, please, let me stay tonight. I’ll do anything if you let me stay.”

  Harold thought over what she said. “What do you expect to happen? No, not what you think will happen, but what he said you must do, exactly?” Harold thought about Caddi’s sly tricks and twisted humour. The lass was insisting she wanted to stay, not have sex. The gang boss had to know that Harold would walk out rather than have sex with an unwilling woman, on camera or not. Though just in case, this room would definitely be wired up.

  “I’m your bed warmer. He said you like spankings. I’ve to do whatever you want.” She took a breath. “If I don’t stay in bed with you all night I’ll be punished for trying to get away. Then I’ll be put in the house.” The young woman clung closer. “I really will be good, even if you spank me really hard. I brought a cane?”

  Harold stepped back, carefully removing her hands. “Go and get yourself cleaned up, then get in the bed.” He kept his voice level. “Be careful because you’re on film. Use a towel or something then pull the covers over you.”

  Her flat answer had an edge of bitterness. “Too late for that.” She went across into the bathroom. Harold thought about Caddi’s wording, and smiled.

  When she came out he didn’t ask her name, because that would also be interest and Caddi would use it. “Get in and get covered up.” Harold went into the en-suite, washed and shaved. He’d be off early tomorrow before Caddi came up with some other type of harassment. When he came through, fully dressed, a pair of frightened brown eyes watched him cross the room.

  Harold smiled before walking round the bed and lying on top of the other half of the quilt. “Same bed, all night. Now you stay under there, I stay on here, and the cameraman has a really boring night.”

  “But Mr Cadillac said…”

  “This covers in the same bed all night. I’m sorry, but you’ve been caught up in a game between me and Mr Cadillac. Hopefully he’ll be a good sport because you’ve done your part and he’ll think this is funny.” Harold really hoped so, for her sake. He turned away, taking a firm hold on his stick. This would be a long night because despite appearances he couldn’t put it past Caddi to have offered her freedom if she killed Soldier Boy.

  * * *

  Harold didn’t sleep much, so he didn’t come downstairs in a brilliant mood the next morning despite the tiny shy smile when he left the bedroom. Early as it was, Chevy already sat at the table. “You’re up early?”

  “So are you, Chevy.” Harold wondered if someone stayed on watch when he slept over.

  “Caddi wants to talk to you before you leave.”

  “He’d better hurry.”

  “You’ll have to wait for the escort.” Harold held Chevy’s eyes in a steady gaze until Chevy looked away. “All right, you don’t but it won’t be long. You could have coffee?” The offer wasn’t gracious, but Harold needed coffee so he accepted. Sure enough by the time he’d finished, Chevy reported that the convoy had g
athered and Caddi had arrived.

  Harold barely stepped out of the door before Caddi started. “I thought you were interested? I certainly thought she was motivated enough.”

  Harold smiled. “She did exactly what you told her. But supposing she’d been threatened if we didn’t have sex, now that could have been really embarrassing.”

  “Yes, especially if your lot saw the film.” Caddi grinned. “After all those rules.”

  “Oh no, I meant having to apologise for permanently crippling Cooper or Chevy.” Harold kept his voice level and pleasant as he saw the anger in Caddi’s eyes. “For stepping past good manners.”

  “Really?” Caddi kept the anger bottled; probably his curiosity helped. “How?” Behind him Mack tensed.

  “You know I don’t believe in forced sex and also my opinion of manners and limits if we are to continue doing business. You wouldn’t push that or I’d stop doing business, then you’d not get your guns or electrics repaired. It would have been one of those two, Cooper or Chevy, who set it up judging by their laughter as I went to bed.” Harold had spent most of the night thinking about how to deal with this. “I’d have to explain I didn’t find that funny.”

  Caddi narrowed his eyes. “Permanently crippling sounds a bit extreme.”

  “Brutalising a lass for not being able to force me into sex would be excessive. Just crippling seems reasonable since they haven’t threatened me directly, otherwise I could have just waited out there and shot them.” Harold watched as Caddi kept his anger bottled under the threat of losing his gun repairs, or a rifle bullet out of nowhere killing a lieutenant. “Since we are playing a game, and I avoided your little trap, I’d assumed she’d be clear?”

  “Oh yes, she can come back to my place once she’s got her nightie off.” Caddi watched to see if that had any effect. “It’s a good thing none of my lot made that mistake. I’ll warn them against it.”

  “Thanks, I wouldn’t want to be impolite.”

  “Just hang on a few minutes while I check the convoy is ready.” Caddi walked away a few steps then spoke quietly to Chevy, who looked startled then trotted off in a hurry to be someplace. Caddi spoke to another man who headed for the gates but came back in a few minutes. Harold looked around the compound while he waited but the place seemed deserted at this hour except for guards on the wall nearby and outside Caddi’s house.