by Vance Huxley
A dark suit with the bow tie and yellow strips above the pockets and on the lapels classed as a bee costume, so Harold could hardly object. He retired to the study to get changed with not completely good grace. His acceptance lasted right up until he came inside the dance house. “Oh cripes, I’d forgotten Hazel.” Harold stopped at the door while a startled Hazel in a yellow and black striped bee skirt stared back and blushed bright red. Not because of the skirt, probably, but because of slow dancing with Billy.
Billy looked like a rabbit in headlights and a lone rabbit because Hazel went through the double doors into the dining room and the other dancers at speed. “Um. Harold. I didn’t. Haven’t.” Billy shuffled his feet and looked about twelve instead of nineteen.
Harold suddenly saw the funny side and laughed, really laughed. He’d not done that for too long. “Cripes Billy, she’s a lass at a dance. I’d be more upset if none of you danced with her.” Harold shrugged. “Even more upset if it was because of me. I promise not to look at numbers or follow to see who walks her home. Now will someone please tell Hazel the same?”
“I’ll will, if someone hasn’t already done it. Veronica has the same trouble because of Isiah and Kerry.” Liz sniggered. “Especially when Alfie pulled her number out of the hat. Hazel was...” Liz stopped. “Through there needing me.” She headed off.
“Well that’s killed the party.” Harold sighed, because everyone had stopped dancing to watch and listen.
“Not really.” Harold turned to find a smiling Celine, in a black dress with yellow ribbon wound round it. Not a little black dress, but a lot nearer than her white evening gown had been. She looked down. “I’m getting there. As your therapy has a lot to do with it, and I know you are a good dancer and safe, you are on my dance card tonight.”
Harold put his hand around her shoulder, and the other just around her waist. “I’ve always got room on my card for you, Celine.”
“Oh no, I’ve made progress. One hand right round waist onto my back, buster, and properly round my shoulder. I’ve been saving my first proper dance for you.” Her green eyes twinkled. “Not a huggy one yet, but if you’re good I might get to that one day.”
“One huggy dance, booked for when required.” Harold found he could dance without stepping on feet despite his lack of practice over summer. He soon had plenty of practice as a steady stream of women came for a welcome back dance, and slowly Harold relaxed. Nobody wanted a huggy hands dance, but they didn’t treat him like china either. Sweet Bethany insisted on a slow dance. She persuaded Harold to ask about her costume, and then insisted he called her Sweet Bee. Fergie had definitely joined the mystery competition with a bright yellow bikini under not enough net curtain.
Hazel made a point of taking her dance partners into the other room, as did Alfie funnily enough. “He’s still wary about you seeing him kiss Hazel, and with that bad leg he can only slow dance so if she dances with him?” Doll sniggered. “Alfie kept jumping at shadows for weeks, or hopping anyway.” Harold had gone to check on the guards one evening and come across Alfie and Hazel in a clinch. Both had avoided him for a while afterwards.
“Hazel kissed him the first time.” Doll’s eyes opened wide. “Don’t you dare mention it since I’m supposed to have forgotten.” Doll pouted. “Never mind Alfie and Hazel, what’s your costume? Cow-bee? Bee-girl?”
“Ah, that’s for the men to wonder about. You’re too much of a gentleman to find out there’s a sting in my tail.” Doll waggled her bottom a little bit. “In a manner of speaking. But who gets stung is what really keeps them guessing.”
“I’d pity them but they’re all volunteers.”
“True, but I’ve got to be more careful now because Matti is too distracted for a stopwatch and gramps is babysitting, allegedly.” Doll kissed him on the cheek. “Welcome back Harold.”
“I’ve been back a bit.”
“No, Soldier Boy came back. Though now Harold has started dancing again, the draw at the end is going to be confusing. We’ll be trying to get rid of your number instead of trading for it.” She laughed. “Now you can worry the other way, who you’ll be absolutely safe with.”
Harold didn’t worry, because there would be a conspiracy afoot. Sure enough he ended up walking Patty home, in the opposite direction to the girl club and Hazel’s walk home. “Is it hand kiss or shake hands?” Harold knew the young men didn’t reckon much to drawing Patty, so expected one or the other.
“Hmm.” Patty made a great show of inspecting the sky. “Nope, the moonlight is wrong, and you aren’t hairy enough. You can kiss me here, on my cheek. A lucky escape since I’ve never actually had a toy-boy.”
“Whew. Though since I’ve already been one you might have been pleasantly surprised.”
“You have?” Patty looked suspicious. “Do you mean an aged relative who insisted on a kiss for sweeties at Christmas, or were you targeted by some cougar when you were…? Hang on, you went into the Army at some tender age and off to the desert.” Her eyes widened. “Were you kidnapped by a harem?”
“No such luck and not a completely tender age. The Army won’t take infants and the uniform made even a pimply youth fair game.” Harold chuckled. “There is a certain amount of training before we get thrown into the front line.”
“Training?” Patty’s grin had come back.
“Oh yes, and toy-boys get some of that as well.” Harold sighed. “Though you’re a bit young for me. There’s only three or four years between us.”
“Spurned, because I’m too young?” Patty sighed, then tittered. “Watch out if Celine finds out you aren’t averse to an older woman because she reckons you’re the right mix of dangerous, protective and gentle. She’s looking for an older version for when the cure finally takes, but if I drop a hint?”
“If you do, then Batty Patty might become someone’s new nickname.” Harold chuckled. “You need a gang name anyway with your rep.”
“Don’t you dare! After that I’ve lost any hint of interest. You can take me to the door and kiss my youthful cheek.”
“Tarnation, failed again. I suppose I’d better take the long way home or Hazel will scowl at me.” Harold laughed. “She’s already nervous about me seeing who she dances with, let alone who walks her home.”
“No need tonight, because Veronica wouldn’t trade. Ah, forget that?”
“Forgotten. Goodnight Patty.”
Harold walked home musing on the way life seemed to have finally quietened down a little. The crops had been harvested without any dramas, Caddi’s last attempt to annoy him had been fairly harmless, and the new refugees seemed to be fitting in without too much friction. The GOFs and Barbies were downright sociable, the Geeks weren’t winding anyone up, and even the General’s attack had barely disturbed life in the enclaves. Harold really hoped it lasted at least until the New Year.
Chapter 6:
Orchard Close Armoured Corps
The general sense of well-being after Guy Fawkes lasted all of nine days. A two-tone horn blaring out heralded Cooper arriving a lot faster than usual and without his guards on a quad. Harold ran to the gate to find out why without getting his stick first. Cooper jumped out of his motor, shouting as he ran up the access road. “Get Soldier Boy! We want fighters, lots of fighters.” He paused as he saw Harold. “How many fighters can you bring, and especially those f.. rifles and shooters, serious shooters. There’s a problem and Caddi is asking for help.”
“From me? Who has he upset?” Harold couldn’t work out who would attack Caddi and why the Hot Rods thought he’d help them.
“No you.. er, idiot. There’s GOFS and Geeks coming as well, and everyone is to bring rifles. Bring anything else that shoots, or do you fancy managing without the mart this winter?” Cooper couldn’t stand still, twitching with tension and the need to do something, anything, to release it.
Harold stared for a moment. The mart? “Crap no. Which… person is attacking the mart? The Ferdinands?”
“No, we’ve got e
very gang who uses our mart coming to stop an attack by a big mob from the south. They’ll run right over the mart guards, and then the bastard government will blow up the mart and starve us all like London. For f... blimey’s sake just get your people there and we’ll all get the details.” Cooper stopped twitching with an obvious effort. “Better not take a woman into the boss meeting, because not everyone will obey rules and might not take her seriously.” Cooper spoke carefully and very seriously for once. “We know your Emmy and Patty are dangerous but others won’t, OK? We don’t need a fight kicking off among ourselves.” He glanced over his shoulder. “The Geeks and GOFS will come through your traffic island, right?”
“It’s a neutral road. I’ll come in with them.” Harold wanted to see if the rest really were in on this, or if Caddi had come up with a way to pull the rifles and fighters out of Orchard Close. “Scat. I’ll be along with shooters and guns.”
“I’m gone. Come mob-handed. I mean it.” Cooper spun on his heel and ran back to his car, which his driver had already turned round. The modified Mini Cooper roared off up the road with the air horns blaring. Harold had already run into the guardhouse and picked up the phone.
“Faith, Hilda?”
“No, Veronica. I’m training.”
“Listen carefully, Veronica. We are not under attack but I want everyone willing to shoot with a gun or crossbow to come to the gate, quickly. Bring every weapon and as much ammunition as they can because we need them. If you can’t do that, ask Faith or Hilda to do it. Quick as you can.”
“All right Harold. I’ll ask Hilda. Anything else?”
“Put me through to Sharyn please, then get to it. Thanks.” The connection made the familiar clicking and although it seemed ages, Sharyn didn’t take long to pick up. “We need sandwiches or cold food of some sort and lots to drink at the gates as soon as possible please.” Harold gave her a quick rundown. “We won’t go until I see GOFS and Geeks but I want to be ready.”
“Hellfire Harold, save the mart. I’ll talk to the Coven while you go and do your thing.” Harold made another call, to Patty asking her to rouse the girl club and bring her crossbow and a lot of bolts, and then ran for home. By the time he’d put on his long coat and slung the Blaser and two-two rifle under it, then filled the pockets and a carrier bag with ammunition and two handguns, Casper rang to ask where he was.
A small crowd had already gathered as Harold ran down the street to the gate. “Is this for real?” Emmy wore a long coat with a long shape hidden beneath it. She saw his eyes. “The sniper’s rifle and I’ve brought all my ammo.”
“I’ve brought my shotgun.” Casper had no smile at all today. “How bad is it?”
Harold filled them all in, then started to sort out who would come. Meanwhile Patty went for the armoured pickup, with Billy to help hook the minibus battle trailer onto the back. The vehicle wasn’t a pickup even if the name stuck because under the steel William discovered the engine, chassis and suspension from a small lorry, which explained why it could carry all that armour. Casper went to bring one of the diesel vans, a long transit, in case those two weren’t enough. “I’m leaving two little rifles just in case, with the sawn-off and a single barrelled shotgun. All the single shot pistols stay, and some small calibre revolvers but I’m taking all the semis, and all the clips.”
“I’m coming.” Emmy looked ready for objections because she knew how Harold felt about protecting women, especially mothers. “You said shooters Harold.” Harold nodded, because Emmy could shoot better than any of the others at long ranges.
“If I can stay in a vehicle then I’ll come, Harold.” Alfie tapped his coat. “I can’t run about but I’ve brought the 303. There’s not much ammo so I’ll take a two-two rifle for when it’s gone.”
“I can use a two-two rifle Harold.” Finn shrugged. “That’s the same round and the same sights as my assassin pistol. I can use a nine mill though, closer in.”
“I’m in.” Doll opened her coat to show three pistols and her machete and she also carried a Geek crossbow with a full quiver.
As the offers rolled in Harold had to turn people down, since he couldn’t leave Orchard Close unprotected. “Thanks Seth, but Orchard Close needs a few people who won’t freeze if they’re attacked. I know you’ll use that sawn-off if needed, so you stay. Put all the dogs on the walls as sentries and I’ll leave you two of the infra-reds. Don’t take chances. Shoot first and ask the survivors what they wanted.”
“Cripes Harold.” Seth squared his shoulders. “Nobody will get in.”
Billy ran up the road towards the traffic island with his machete and two handguns, and a radio to let Harold know when anyone else arrived. Meanwhile Harold turned down Bernie, but took his rucksack full of pipe bombs. Toyah seemed relieved when Tim had to stay. Tim accepted the explanation, that Harold knew Tim would definitely shoot to protect Orchard Close and Toyah. Where possible Harold tried to take single people but he couldn’t stick to that if the volunteers were serious fighters. He took three of the four fighter refugees from the General, but left the married one. Jeremy and Matti, and Matthew and Bess, both came as couples since all four were veterans.
The rifles and shotguns went into the battle trailer and the pickup cab, and even more ammo arrived as non-combatants brought the reserves from the armoury or guardhouses. Saving the mart had to be worth taking some chances. Liz turned up with a huge bundle of crossbow bolts and then the food began to arrive along with containers and bottles of small beer and boiled water. One non-combatant brought a big pack, Lenny the ex-paramedic. “You need me.”
“You aren’t a fighter, Lenny.”
“No, but this sounds like a battle. If someone is hit I’ll be the difference between limping and dead, and tending them won’t take a shooter off the line.” Even as Harold hesitated Lenny opened his pack. “None of you can use half of this. I’ve even got morphine for if it’s really bad.”
“Fair enough.” Harold didn’t want to listen to any of his people screaming as they died.
The medic frowned. “Are you fighting from the armoured vehicles?”
“If we can, Lenny.”
“Even if you aren’t, take couple of camp beds in the transit. Put them someplace in shelter for me to treat wounded off the ground.” Lenny bent to look under the trailer. “Wouldn’t want something coming under and ruining my work.”
“Done. Put them in the van and we’ll park it behind the others. Get it organised.” Harold turned to making sure the twenty-eight other men and women understood a few simple radio signals. They’d have to be simple with every gang using the same few channels. “Put a pushbike in the van in case we need a quick messenger.”
“Harold?” He turned to find Isiah and Kerry. “This is the original test version field telephone. Clip on this car battery and the cable will reach from the cab to the trailer. It’ll give you private coms.” Isiah handed over the two small boxes with handsets and a coil of cable, while Kerry offered a car battery. “The battery is always topped up and charged in case of power surges and cuts.”
“Harold, Billy is calling. He’s flagged down a convoy of Geeks and GOFS and they’re waiting.” Emmy grinned. “He’s told Caddi’s spies to get aboard or you’ll accidentally shoot them.”
“Hang on, move over.” Harold turned at the voice then got out of the way as Liz and four helpers came through with a sheet of steel on three wheelbarrows. “Prop this up and shoot from behind it.” Willing hands slid the steel into the transit van and several lengths of timber followed. The helpers put more quivers of crossbow bolts inside after the steel.
“Enough. Everyone who is coming load up, and the rest shut the gates and keep inside until we come back. No gardening, nothing outside the walls.” Within minutes the armoured truck groaned into motion with the minibus obediently following. Harold smiled to himself, with acceleration like this it certainly wouldn’t be the usual gang poser vehicle. As he reached the traffic island Harold relaxed because if Caddi had pu
lled some sort of a stunt, this lot weren’t going to be happy. Nine Geek Freek and five GOFS vehicles were waiting.
Five men struggled out of what were very crowded GOFS vehicles and four climbed into the back of the pickup. Roy opened the cab door. “Move up Billy, make room for an old man.” At thirty-one Roy did look old among the fighters.
“How come you aren’t fighting with the GOFS?” Harold smiled. “Not that I’m complaining, nor about you having Gofannon’s rifle.”
“Gofannon reckons I’m better than any of his with the er, bloody thing so I’d best keep it if this is serious.” Roy grinned. “I told him we fight with our people when they need us and he said OK. The rest of them in the cars will be pleased we’ve got out. It’s a bit cosy in there with all the heavy metal.”
“Why only five GOFS cars?” Billy peered through the slit in the steel plate over the windscreen. “Are they worried about the General?”
“A bit but there’s a car and big van gone the other way, to the Barbies. There’ll be something like fifty GOFS in the end.” Roy laughed. “The GOFS are all chortling about Caddi’s reaction when they turn up with Barbies. The GOFS cars will warn the Hot Rod sentries so they can hide.”
“Will the Barbies come?”
“Do fish swim, is the Pope Catholic? It’s a fight and anyway they use the same mart so they’ll want to save it.” Roy rapped a knuckle on the plate covering his side window and peered through the loophole. “Cosy. Will this be enough?”
“That depends on too many things to list.” Harold grinned. “Though anyone shooting the usual underpowered soft lead reloads from a pistol is going to be bloody frustrated. Billy, give Roy some cotton wool and a headband.” Billy did, and explained about just how loud a gun going off in here might be.
