Fall of the Cities: Planting the Orchard

by Vance Huxley

  “For an armed robber, yes. You won’t hurt anyone?” The chemist was looking at Liz.

  “I’m not going to hurt him. I just wanted to stop him hurting Finn. If I move back a bit you won’t start trouble?” The last bit was to the young man who shook his head very gently, while watching Harry with his bat.

  “Finn, you go in there but don’t panic. The chemist will do his best, won’t you?” This time the chemist nodded.

  This wait was longer but eventually Finn came out with carrier bag full of boxes and bottles and jars. “Everything, or substitutes. I offered him a safe place if he brings his stock but he won’t come.” Finn was a lot happier. Rob was outside and wasn’t happy. He had already banged on the shop door to tell them a crowd was gathering.

  “Run the card and then we’re gone. I suggest you take all the stock somewhere else and lock it up. Then sell for cash or better still trade for food or fuel.” Harry watched the shock hit the chemist. “We found you on the internet and someone less civilised may come next time.” The chemist looked at the weapons. “Seriously. You were eighth on a list of nine and someone is stripping pharmacies bare. Get out. I was in London and it’s going to get worse.”

  The machine accepted the card again. Harold tried to warn them again. “I’ll leave the cricket bat by the door but it won’t even slow them up if a mob arrive, or drug dealers.”

  Liz looked at the young man. “Is the pharmacist your relative?”

  “Uncle.”

  “Persuade him. Or someone will kill you both. Get out of the building because the bastards will torch it for fun. Two of the places we found were gutted by fire.” The young man nodded and watched as the four of them left. Harry tossed the bat onto the floor, slammed the door and jumped into the pickup.

  Rob was right about the crowd. About thirty adults, mainly men, had moved to within twenty yards. Rob and Billy with a rifle each and Casper with the machete were keeping them back. Ahead of the pickup half a dozen people were being deterred by Mr Baumber carrying a rifle. Two bricks hit the back of Rob’s van, on rearguard, as the three vehicles pulled away but the men ahead scattered.

  Finn apologised, but it no longer mattered really because he did the right thing. In retrospect, if that was the last chemist, a new prescription would be scrap paper. None of them expected the place to be open, one way or the other, by the time anyone got another prescription. That was underlined by a determined attempt to break into both blocks of flats that night. A van rammed the garage doors which only held because Finn’s van was backed up tight inside to reinforce it.

  Bricks from above broke the windshield and then Harry started shooting into the front seat from the first floor. Someone in there screamed and the van left in a hurry. “Harry, Harry.”

  Harry turned from watching the van race away and Billy was pointing to the other block of flats. The ply over several ground floor windows was alight as a crowd threw petrol bombs at them. “If they’ve wet them down, the ply should hold.” Harry hoped so because he wasn’t leading this lot in a rescue attempt. They’d get swamped.

  “I’ll let Susan know, she’s got one of them on the phone.” Billy left.

  Harry seriously considered shooting at the crowd but in the dark, lit only by the flames, he’d be lucky to do any damage. Then the crowd might disperse, or they might set into this block instead. Harry watched as three youths tried to use a van to try to climb onto a first floor balcony and a table and then chairs rained down on them. Petrol bombs arced up and the balcony up there was soon ablaze. Tomorrow the residents here would have to reinforce the first floor windows, Harry realised.

  Eventually the crowd dispersed and the fires were put out as dawn broke. Tired people from both blocks scoured the surrounding area for ply and fastened it up, and then many of them slept through the afternoon.

  “Susan has been talking to those she knows over there, in the other flats. That lot last night wanted young women.” Sharyn was picking over the knives taken by Harold and Casper. “They said they’ll be back tonight. They’re not getting me, Harry.”

  “I’ll do the dancing and prancing thing. They won’t get you, sis.” Sharyn needed a long hug before she went for her nap. Or tried, because Daisy and a colouring book went with her.

  * * *

  As the light began to fade those catching up on their sleep were roused, and Harry and Casper collected the weapons from the gun flat. The residents gathered in the foyer, some staring at the rifles and knives being placed on the stairs. Sharyn spoke up because Harry said he wasn’t starting this discussion. “We have to make a plan, or everyone will be in one place while they break in another.”

  “What do you reckon, Harry?” Rob spoke but all the other faces turned his way and Harry sighed.

  “Did everyone make sure the balcony doors with ply on will open?” The ply had been fastened to the outsides of the outer sliding doors onto the balconies so residents could still step out there.

  “Yes, but it doesn’t make sense to me. That means someone from outside can open them.” Billy shrugged. “Just saying.”

  “Last night some yobs tried to use a hi-top transit to get to a balcony in the other block of flats and were driven off with furniture. That won’t work if they are determined.” Harry looked around everyone. “We have to be able to drive them off those balconies or they’ll make holes and burn us out.”

  “We can’t go out there and meet them with knives and clubs.” Obe sighed. “We aren’t fighters, Harry.”

  “Who will actually pull a trigger if they have to? I mean it. Don’t freeze on me or you might kill us all.” Frightened faces looked back at Harry.

  “I will because I’m not letting them get the women. Though I will probably miss.” Rob looked grim. Public hugging had translated into a fierce determination to protect Susan.

  “Not at this range. There’s a hole cut in every window on the first floor and a little hole in the ply. You can’t miss across the width of the balcony. No heroics, shoot them in the gut.” Harry handed Rob a rifle and a box of rounds. “Keep shooting until they are very still or fall off the balcony.”

  “I’ll be there by then.” Casper hefted the heavy chopping blade. “I’ll go out and clean up or deal with anyone getting in.”

  “I’ll turn up where the attack concentrates, if it’s concentrated. We need two more for a rifle, and one for a pistol, a real one.” Harry showed the target pistol he’d taken from Casper’s assailant.

  “I’ll take that. I’ve practiced with the poncy one and can hit something across a balcony.” Finn sighed. “They aren’t getting Mum, nor are they stealing her medicine.” He gave a wan smile, “now I’ve stolen some for her.”

  Harold handed Finn the target .38. “This will kick back harder and make a hell of a noise. Shoot for the bastard’s belt buckle and I promise the bullet will stop a man. It isn’t even a tiny bit poncy. Take your time to be sure because there’s only seven loads.”

  “I play shoot ‘em up on the computer? If I squint and pretend I’ll pull the trigger. For Mum.” Toby received a big hug from his Mum as well as a worried look as Harry showed the lad how to shoot the .22 rifle. “Hey, some of the shooting games have sights like these.”

  “Then you won’t miss. This is the lever for the bolt. Just up and back and the old case pops out. Slide a new round in, make sure that locks home, point and pull gently.” Harold pulled the butt into Toby’s shoulder. “Tighter, so nothing jumps about.” Harry tapped Toby gently on the head. “Keep one thing in mind. Do not, even for an instant, point this at anyone who lives here. Even unloaded. No joking, no games.”

  “OK soldier boy, er, Mr Miller. Sorry.”

  “The soldier boy thing is my fault.” Liz shrugged. “I tried the poncy gun but I look away when I pull the trigger. I’ll take it though, and aim before I look away. If that will be any good?”

  “The more weapons pointing if it gets to a stand-off the better.” Finn handed the air pistol over and showed L
iz how to reload.

  “I’ll take a rifle.” Obe looked grim. “Many years ago I was caught up in a couple of race riots that scared me to death. I think I’ll be able to do it if I just remember what happened then. I was watching what you did with Toby but give me the quick and dumb lesson anyway.” He took the last rifle. Billy took an air pistol because he’d done a little bit of practicing with Finn and could load it.

  Then Karen stepped up and held out her hand for the last air pistol. She gave Harold a little smile. “Give me that. I’ll pull the trigger though they probably won’t need to duck.”

  “But they will duck, Karen, which gives those who can aim just a bit more time. Thank you.” Harry spent time going through how to use the weapons until the users could stick a reload in and send it out of the barrel.

  Mr Baumber appeared with five long poles and a lot of duct tape. “If you tape some of those knives to these, will it help keep them off the balconies?”

  Harry grinned. “Too bloody true.” The knives would probably come free once they were used, but most of the residents wouldn’t stick a knife in a person anyway. The blades on poles would look dangerous and give the defenders a reach advantage. “Thank you Mr Baumber.”

  “I also found these safety gloves, for those who are throwing ornaments. They should be tough enough to protect fingers? I am willing to throw things?” Quite a few people smiled or winced because the ornaments were Liz’s entire Twisted Sister stock, which she had donated. They were now with the bricks behind the third floor windows.

  “Right. Does everyone know where to go for throwing, fire-fighting and shooting?” Murmurs and nodding heads confirmed they’d all got it. “Billy is watching the front door in case someone actually breaks it, so we get warning. The babysitters and the children are assembled away from windows and the ground floor flats are empty. Try to doze if nothing is happening though the lookouts must keep wide awake. Tea and coffee will be provided through the night.”

  Harry looked around them all and put all the confidence he could into his voice. “These are just yobs and if we look too hard to take, they’ll go after someone else. Let’s go.” At least a dozen sketched a salute of some sort.

  “You look the part, little brother.” Sharyn gave a real salute because she knew how.

  Harry glanced down. “I’m not really in the Army now.”

  “No, but the reason I want you in battledress is because that firms this lot up.” Sharyn gave Harry a little hug. “I like having a soldier about again and anyway, you’ll scare the shit out of some of those yobs.”

  Harry smiled. “I need a balaclava.”

  “Heh, yeah. SAS. All those bloody films.” Sharyn sighed. “I’d love to have Stones and a half dozen of his mates here now. They’d be having a bloody ball.”

  “Too true but I’ll settle for a quiet night, sis.” A last hug and Sharyn headed upstairs to join the throwing squad. Harry chose the first floor window nearest the front door and ran a quick mental check. There were three watching that hole under the garage door with a fire extinguisher and golf clubs or baseball bats. Harry debated sending a homemade spear down there but those needed to be visible.

  For almost two hours the firework noises grew and then a group came around the end of the road and headed for the other block of flats. The flats were surrounded but the mob made no real attempt to break in. Bricks were thrown and there was a lot of jeering, but no petrol bombs or climbing to get at balconies. Not until three vehicles came round the corner with an even larger crowd surrounding them and Harry swore. One had a cherry picker lift on the back, and another was the hi-top van but with ladders fastened to the side and projecting above the roof.

  The last vehicle was a pickup with a contraption fastened to the front. A steel bar vee shape that turned the vehicle into a battering ram. The front door of the flats would never stop it. Harry sent word down to the garage to make some petrol bombs, quickly. Bottles of petrol and oil with a rag in the top. If that thing broke the doors he’d burn the vehicle in place. Dangerous, but better than a big hole the mob could pour through. Harry though the firearms could stop the other two vehicles, or at least those using them to climb onto the balconies.

  There was a big discussion going on among the mob now with people organising an assault on the other flats. “Bethany, phone the other flats and advise them to make petrol bombs to burn the vehicles.” Harry heard the phone dialling and low voices behind him.

  “These are the first two. How many do you want?” Two wine bottles with rags in the top were given to Harry and he set them down carefully.

  “Two at the middle balcony on each side on the third floor. Only to be used if a vehicle actually pulls up and stops. Tell them to break the windscreen with bricks first if possible, and don’t miss with the petrol.” Harry considered for a moment. “Make another four and be ready to take them where they’re needed if the phone goes. Put my pickup or Rob’s van against Finn’s to help block the garage doors.”

  “OK, I’ll tell them.” Isiah limped away.

  Harry watched the preparations around the other flats, and the mob were too organised for comfort. Though Harry was fairly certain even the impromptu battering ram wouldn’t shift the garage door with both vehicles behind it. Though the door would be wrecked, which would meant that it couldn’t be opened or it wouldn’t shut again. Even as Harry was regretting not having a heavier rifle, the attack on the other flats started. He shelved dreams of shooting the bastards in charge with a buffalo gun and watched how this attack developed.

  Someone had worked out how to do this, or this wasn’t the first block of flats they’d attacked. Petrol bombs arced up on all sides mixed with missiles. Half bricks Harry thought since they weren’t big enough for full ones. Small enough to throw hard, big enough to be very dangerous. Luckily the windows were now covered in ply. Though soon several balconies were ablaze and then the first two vehicles lurched forwards. They went for the two balconies closest to the doors, and now Harry could see what the plan was.

  A swarm of men went up the ladders on the van and onto one balcony. Four men rode the cherry picker straight up to the other balcony and they jumped straight on. More men were waiting as the platform lowered for another load. As figures appeared on higher balconies, throwing bricks, gunfire cracked and some of the defenders staggered or fell. These looters or rioters were properly armed. The barrage of bricks from above faltered.

  Those on the balconies started tearing at the plywood over the windows, and the third vehicle lurched into action. There was no hesitation. Either the driver was well strapped in and padded or hopped up to the eyeballs, because the vehicle didn’t slow down. The bonnet was buried in the entrance when the pickup stopped, so the doors were gone. The engine roared and the whole vehicle vibrated as the driver recovered and attempted to reverse out of the wreckage.

  On one of the balconies there was hand to hand fighting now but Harry’s eyes were attracted by a surge in the mob nearest to him. The garage door was opening! A minibus accelerated out as the mob raced forward waving weapons, and was followed by a van and an estate car. A fourth car stopped in the garage entrance as bats and machetes and bricks smashed through the windscreen and presumably struck the driver. The stopped vehicle blocked most of the opening and fighting erupted to either side of it.

  The minibus accelerated away and made it, knocking aside several people on the way but shrugging off the missiles hitting it. The van swerved and slowed as the windshield starred, and men were trying to drag the doors open. A side door slid open and two men tried to climb aboard even as the driver recovered and accelerated clear of the mob. The van bounced across the car park and smashed down the wire between that and the old children’s playground.

  One attacker fell away, rolling across the ground as the van swerved towards the road. The second came off as the van hit the kerb, but as he did two other figures were pulled out of the van to follow him. The van accelerated off down the road because more of t
he mob had started towards it.

  Meanwhile the estate car crashed into the low retaining wall at the car park entrance as a volley of gunfire ripped into it. In moments the mob was all over it and Harry saw limbs flashing and heard the screams. Women. The car was carrying women.

  The two who had fallen out of the van staggered to their feet, took one look back and started running towards Harry. The man who had fallen at the same time staggered to his feet, looked around, and then limped after them. Long hair flew as the taller figure ran, though she was slowed by pulling along the smaller, slighter figure. Harry raised his rifle.

  Crap. Flickering light, bloody target ammo, and only a two-two. Even if he hit the man it might not drop him and then that lot would know how weak the defence was here. He called upwards. “Third floor balcony, Harry here.”

  “Yes Harry.” That was Mr Baumber.

  “When those two get close enough so you won’t hit them, start throwing at the man. Sharp stuff.”

  “All right, Harry.”

  Harry half-turned. “Beth, get all the shooters and spears here, double quick.” About fifteen men were coming from the main mob and Harry wanted to scare them off. Behind Harry the phone was already calling.

  Harry was about ready to shoot anyway because that man was getting too close to the two women, and then something gleamed briefly before clattering on the path. The man swerved and stopped, looking up, and Harry could see the shock on his face. Mr Baumber had damn near got him with a real Liz special, all pointy bits of metal.

  “Far enough, fella. Back off.” The man’s attention moved to Harry and he backed off a bit. Below him Harry heard the door open and then close again, so Billy had been watching and was ready. The fugitives were inside.

  The rest of the men came charging up waving baseball bats, hammers and more of the machetes. There was even a butcher’s cleaver. “Watch it, they’re throwing sharp shit and he’s got a rifle.” The original man’s warning stopped the rest.