Fall of the Cities: Planting the Orchard

by Vance Huxley

  “Good news little brother. The bank finally agreed that as I’m his widow and Freddie did leave a will, and there is a ton of paperwork confirming it, I get his money.”

  “The payment?”

  “No, just the other account. Freddie had one that was for him to use abroad. In case some foreign toerag nicked or ripped off his card. So that I wouldn’t be stuck without a card or money while it was all sorted out.” Sharyn sighed. “It’s not a fortune, but if you need new boxers or a couple of beers? I owe you more than that.”

  “Not yet, but I really need some trainers, and a second pair of jeans.”

  “Sorry about that but the clothes were too much. Not the coat, that suits you, but the rest was a bit near to home. Thanks for clearing the rest of Freddie’s things.”

  “Not a problem. The coat is a beauty.” It was, a long leather one that Harry was surprised to find did fit him. He always thought of Freddie as being a lot bigger. “What will you do if the kids need the doctor?”

  “Get an Army escort to the hospital.”

  * * *

  Sharyn met Harry as he returned from the hospital. “They’ve all gone.” Harry looked blank so she continued. “The ones we talked about, like Mrs Burren-Croft.” Sharyn wasn’t going to remind Mrs Turner, the passenger, that her sons never visited.

  “Tell me upstairs.” They took Mrs Turner to her flat and Sharyn started talking on the way to her flat. “Susan is in my flat so I could catch you alone. I don’t want the kids hearing, or Daisy at least, because this is worrying. A bus turned up for all the ones we talked about and a couple of extras.”

  “There aren’t any buses.”

  “Well someone found diesel for this one. There were already people aboard, all old ones, and a couple of burly men to carry bags.” Sharyn stopped because they were nearly home. “Those leaving turned in their keys. They left the furniture and everything that wouldn’t go in suitcases. Mrs Burren-Croft has a lot of those china figures and they’re worth a fortune. She left them.” Sharyn gave a brief smile. “Though she took Fluff.”

  “So are they coming back? When things get better?”

  “No. They turned in their keys and told Mr Baumber they’d cancelled their payments for rent.”

  “We should do the same.” Harry had spoken on impulse but it immediately made sense.

  “We can’t do that, stop paying. Where did that come from?” Sharyn frowned. “That’s a long step from nicking an abandoned truck.”

  “This isn’t going to end soon and some of those people were related to people who would know before we did. People in government. Maybe those people want headmistresses for their children but with tradespeople being allowed to leave this is getting scary. The government and council won’t do repairs or pay out sickness or dole or provide a doctor so why are you paying rent? How long is it since the kids’ playground was wrecked?”

  “Two years. It must be close to that since the last time a council plumber or anyone else came. You’re right.” Sharyn smiled. “There are a few feeling the pinch who won’t be sorry, but most of us have to agree. Otherwise we might be used as examples. I can’t see us all being thrown out at once. I’ll call a meeting.”

  “While you do, I’m going to get my bloody rifle. If someone was shooting at Finn in daylight, I’m not wasting time.” As Sharyn opened her mouth Harry interrupted. “I don’t have a vote on this because I’m dossing on my big sister’s sofa. See you soon.”

  * * *

  Even with the keys Harry felt like a sneak thief. He bought ammunition for the two-two and more for the poncy gun, putting the cash in the safe. Harry locked up the empty locker and put the rifle under his coat. All the way back home he had an itch, waiting for the sound of a siren, but nothing happened. When he came in, the resident’s meeting was breaking up.

  “All for one, Harry. There were a couple who wanted to keep paying but Mr Baumber said his pay is late and voted to stop the rent. He says that anyone who wants to pay can give the money to him and he’ll help to keep the others fed.” Sharyn laughed. “That sort of settled it.” She glanced at the shape under Harry’s coat. “Are you on the lam again?”

  “Yes, and I want to see Mr Baumber because if there’s empty flats I want to put this in one. Away from Daisy.”

  “Crap, yes. She hasn’t put anyone’s eye out but she loves marching round with your walking stick. Where’s the poncy gun?”

  “Finn has got it. Sort of love-hate because he’s a bit frightened of the damn thing but wants to be able to use it. I explained that I wasn’t quite truthful about harmless and he doesn’t want to play cards with me.”

  “Nor me from what Liz said. She’s a fan, though your fair body is safe. Liz showed me a couple of pictures of ex-boyfriends and you are a bit skinny.” Sharyn squeezed Harry’s bicep. “But watch out for Karen.” Then she turned Harry and pushed. “Good, he’s finished. If you’re quick you can catch Mr Baumber on his own.”

  * * *

  When he arrived back in the flat Harry called Sharyn into the kitchen and gave her a key. “Next door, I didn’t realise it’s empty.”

  “Has been for about six months. Are you moving in there?”

  “Tempting but Daisy will just hammer on the door in the morning, or the wall. Do you want to throw me out?” Harry did feel as if he was underfoot sometimes, with his gear still cluttering up a corner of the living room.

  “Not a chance. You keep amusing Daisy and I’ll wash your socks. Deal?”

  “Deal. Now I’ll nip off and give Finn the pellets, and these.”

  “Targets?”

  “Mr Baumber says Finn can pin them to a door in Mrs Burren-Croft’s old flat for target practice. Then her son can pay for the damage if anyone ever inspects the place. Late pay has made Mr Baumber very bitter.”

  “Yes, one or two feel that way. There were some strong feelings aired in that meeting and a few were wondering. What happens when the money runs out?” Harry had been wondering that as well.

  He smiled. “We sell the good china. Not ours though.”

  “Then go on the lam.”

  “See, dead simple.” Except both of them knew it wasn’t.

  * * *

  “That’s our hospital.” Sharyn and Harry stared at the TV. That was definitely the local hospital, one of only four that still had a functioning Accident and Emergency unit. “Where does Finn go now? Where does anyone round here go?”

  Harry stared at Sharyn and then back at the TV. She’d nailed it because Finn would have to take his Mum halfway across the city to find another place for her to get medication. “It’s a war zone. We have to leave.” Harry was watching the report as he spoke. There were people running about with weapons, standing off the police. Fire was belching out of some of the windows on the lower floor of the hospital.

  “Where are the patients? Where is the evacuation?” Harry was baffled. “Why isn’t the fire suppression or whatever kicking in?” The police were trying to regain control, but seemed to be out-gunned and out-numbered. More were turning up, lights flashing, but still not enough to evict the gunmen.

  Sharyn was baffled by something else. “Why don’t they just rob the place and leave?”

  Harry thought, and remembered London. “Because they want a war. That lot want to shoot the police rather than steal drugs.” Sharyn stared at Harry as he continued. “I remember asking the same question when the rioters pushed onto bayonets just so they could punch a soldier. They’re crazy with hate. We have to leave.”

  “How and where? The Army have sealed the whole place off.”

  “I reckon I can get the four of us through the wire.” Even as he said it Harry had a pang. Leaving Karen and Finn, Liz, Susan and Rob to this sort of chaos didn’t sit right. Harry should have just picked up sis and the kids and run. If he hadn’t stayed so long, then the rest of the residents wouldn’t have mattered to him.

  “No you can’t. I won’t leave my friends to this, Harry. Anyway, according to the
TV it’s worse out in the countryside.”

  “How can it be worse than that?” On the screen the police were pushing the gunmen back, but not before the criminals had overrun four police cars. Now the police were trying to break into the hospital and the flames were spreading. “Patients are burning to death in there.” Harry paused. “Patients and staff. The very people those idiots will need if they get sick or are wounded.”

  “We have to make this place safe. So if they come for us, we can stop them. A big crowd won’t bother with a few flats because we have no drugs.” Sharyn looked round. “Where else can we go anyway?”

  “I don’t know and you’re right. At the very least we have to make this place stronger. Tomorrow we steal ply from wherever we can and strengthen the doors and windows.” Harry sighed. “Then I’ll get the other rifles.”

  Sharyn gave him a big sister-hug. “Thanks little brother.” They sat and watched the hospital burn until the view changed to an atrocity in another city. Then another, and another.

  * * *

  “But what about Mum?” Finn was frantic the next day. “How long has she got meds for?” Sharyn was asking and Karen was right alongside, blue rinse nodding

  “I get mine monthly so I’ve got two weeks’ worth left.” Karen looked round and it hit everyone how many more residents were in the same boat.

  Finn steadied down a little. “Nearly three weeks. But then what does she do?”

  “We fix this place up first. Then we’ve got a fortnight to find an alternative.” Harry wanted the place safe before Finn or anyone else went running off trying to source drugs. Harry had a nasty idea about just where he’d find them. Some bloody drug dealer would sell pain relief and with a bit of luck the stuff would be clean. Dealers would have morphine, dihydrocodeine, pot, anything habit forming.

  “You can get drugs from the internet. Maybe, if the internet works?”

  Karen spoke gently. “Toby, the post has stopped.”

  The teenager with the CB and an occasionally functioning PC link to the internet lost his excitement. “I forgot. Sorry.”

  “No, thanks for trying. Let’s get the windows seen to, because Harry is right.” Finn sighed. “If we don’t keep the place safe, drugs won’t matter.”

  “In that case, we need teams. At least half a dozen fit people in each group, and at the first sign of trouble, head for home.” Harry looked around them “If one voice shouts ‘oy, what are you doing’ we get out. Before we find out how many friends they’ve got.”

  “We’d better load as we take boards off then, in case we have to run.” Rob was looking round. “Who is with me because Harry, Finn and me are the ones with the load-carrying vehicles and fuel? We’ve got fuel for now anyway.” People began to move towards one man or the other, or head off to get their baseball bat or golf club, or tools for actual work.

  * * *

  “It’s getting a bit late to fix this lot. I’ll drop you off at the door and put the pickup in the garage, still loaded.” Harry smiled at Toby. “You can get your fix of CB before tea.”

  “Brilliant.” Toby had worked hard even if he didn’t really have the brawn for this work yet.

  “I’ll tell his Mum it’s his pay.” Liz ruffled his hair. “Keep this up and you’ll be building muscles and getting a tan and none of the girls will fancy you. Thin and pale is today’s look, isn’t it?” Toby wriggled, embarrassed, and was off like a shot when Harry pulled up. The rest of the crew climbed out of the cab and headed in and Harry went round to the garage.

  As he stepped out of the cab to open the garage, Harry heard the chink of metal and turned. Three shapes rose from between the two burned out cars in the car park and started towards him. Harry turned the other way and four more came out from the twisted remains where the big plastic waste bins had been partially burned before Harry arrived. Harry had been going to run but the keys for the front doors were in the pickup.

  He snatched up his stick and headed for the nearest three at a run. They took another two steps and stopped, startled, and Harry saw who it was. Mr poncy gun had found a machete or cutlass. A big crude blade for hacking down vegetation and he was aiming to hack down Harry. Harry kept running and as the blade came over and down the man’s face moved from a grin to shock. There was a clang as instead of biting into wood, the machete bounced to the side. Harry kept going and literally knocked his opponent over and trampled him underfoot.

  The baseball bat across his shoulders hurt but at least Harry was moving with the blow which softened the impact a bit. Then he slashed across to the left as hard as possible. The grunt of pain meant the blow had landed but Harry was turning away. He smacked the baseball bat aside with the stick as the other youth tried for another blow and stuck the blade in him. Then kept turning and hit Mr poncy gun upside the head as he sat up. That was backhanded with the stick and dropped him. The youth Harry had hit first was doubled up, holding the line of red across his bicep. Harry hit him hard over the back of the head.

  Then Harry bent to wipe the blade and put it away. He stood and twirled the stick as the other four skidded to a halt. These were the cautious man from before and three youths. Two of them had baseball bats and two still only had knives. Harry grinned and nudged the machete with his foot. “Anyone else want to try?”

  “It’s fucking Rambo.”

  “SAS you twat, I told you.” With that two of the youths legged it, and the other two yobs immediately followed.

  Harry stood for a few moments getting his breath. His back hurt like hell and he was glad the others hadn’t kept coming. It had been all right while the adrenaline was pumping, but the pain would have come through in a prolonged fight. He looked down at the three on the floor and Harry’s face hardened.

  A glance upwards and the sentry was still back out of sight. They kept inside the rooms so anyone sneaking up wouldn’t spot them, but that meant their own balconies blocked the view straight down. The assumption had been anyone approaching would be spotted before getting here. Which had been a big mistake. Another glance and so far nobody had seen the fight.

  Harry took a two-handed grip and hit each of the downed attackers once, on the soft bit where the skull was thin. The big brass boss crunched home and Harry put the stick down and stripped them of wallets and knives. Then he dragged them back to the burned out cars. He would have to decide on the best person to give him a hand to shift them. Harry didn’t want the residents to start considering him as their local pet superhero.

  Harry also wanted to sit down for a bit because he’d done it again. He’d lost the plot and left bodies. It wasn’t something he wanted to share. Definitely not with his sister. He was worried about that, what Sharyn would say if she ever found out some of the things he’d done in the Army. Or here, now.

  Harry snagged his pack as he came in the flat and headed for the bathroom. “Need to get changed.” Then he threw his jeans in the bath and washed out the blood, most of it, with two rinses. His socks and tee shirt went in for a quick wash as well, and some wet loo paper sorted out his boots. Then Harry came out in his boxers. It was a good job he was living with sis.

  “Got some stinky rainwater down me so I didn’t want it in the wash.”

  “Typical. Give them here and I’ll put a load in the washer.” Sharyn waved at the kitbag. “Put on your battledress trousers. Nobody in the flats will mind.”

  “Ta. I’ll just nip next door and do soldier things.” Harry put on trousers and a tee and gave Daisy a hug. “Back in fifteen minutes, poppet.”

  “I can count them now.” She could as well, but Harry really needed all fifteen. Even the second class yobs were arming up which was worrying. Worse, Harry couldn’t pretend those three were the heat of the moment. Maybe they would have died anyway and maybe one or two were dead, but Harry had made sure in cold blood. Maybe he really did belong in the nutters, or at least as a regular soldier? Oh crap. Harry took his time, cleaned the blade and the stick properly, and accepted his scolding from Dais
y for taking nineteen minutes.

  * * *

  The next day Harry went for the rifles. On the way he tried to work out who was the best bet as an accomplice. Harry kept deciding and rejecting names because the person had to be strong enough to help move bodies, yet keep quiet. He still hadn’t decided even after putting all the loose powder, the loading kits and spare brass, and even the bars of lead in the crew cab. Harry loaded the rifles and the air pistols before putting them in the cab and hesitated. Then he took the cash box as well, since there was only his money and the float in there.

  Harry had loaded the weapons because on the way here there was gunfire in the nearby streets, and a brick bounced off the pickup. This was in broad daylight and Harry was pleased he’d brought his own rifle with him even if it wasn’t actually needed. There wasn’t time for a pint this time. Harry noticed in passing there was fresh plywood on one window of the Dog and Stoat. Another brick came from the same alley on the return trip. Someone had a new game. Harry kept driving.

  Harry came round a corner into a street of terraced houses. Old houses with no front gardens, just a footpath between the front door and the roadway. He almost stopped because the narrow way was half blocked. A knot of men was spilling off the footpath and they were fighting. Then one waved him past but on the far side of the road and Harry kept going. As he approached he realised that they weren’t fighting, not now. A big man had gone down and now there were six of them kicking him while he curled up in a ball.

  Harry pulled across the street and drove past. Then he couldn’t, not with six of them on a man who was down. Crap. The man who was down might be a complete asshole but Harry was already slowing. He ran up the kerb and swerved away onto the road, then reversed until the back hit the house wall at an angle. At least they’d have to come over the truck bed or round the bonnet.