by Vance Huxley
The man weighed it up, but he was outnumbered and the big rifle had screwed up his odds. “Kurt keeps pointing the shotgun at the big bloke until we’re all aboard.”
“Yes, but you get in the car with the shotgun. Then if Kurt fires I’ll kill everyone in that car because the bodywork won’t stop this.” Which would then include this bloke, and Harold was betting self-preservation would keep baldy honest. “We’ll be gone in ten minutes. Any attempt at an ambush and we’ll hunt the survivors down.”
“Listen to him.” Casper put in his six pennorth. “He shot four like you off my ass the first time we met and then we beat the shit out of the other four.” Casper laughed and waved the machete. “I only had a baseball bat then. He’ll get three of you lot at least, but I want one to try this out. Harold, Toby, leave me one of those two.” Casper gestured at the pair without handguns.
“Bollocks. He can’t shoot that fast.”
“Yes he can because he’s Army, a real soldier boy, so he can shoot that and use the pig sticker.” Casper’s absolute confidence shone through every word.
Harold saw the leader make his decision, and saw the edge go off his stance. He wasn’t calling Casper’s bluff, if it was one, probably because it was already clear who Harold had down as number two target. “Deal. No sudden moves while we get in the cars, and you don’t stop here looking for more gear.”
“Deal.”
Harold was really pleased when the second car with Kurt aboard followed the first out of the car park because the old rifle was bloody heavy held like this. Also because he hadn’t had to kill another bunch of people and possibly end up with friends killed.
A hand hit him between the shoulder blades. “Again! And now you’ve got Casper doing it.” Her voice deepened. “Pointing a gun at me? Pha! Put it down before I stick it up your ass.” She hit Harold again. “Macho bastards.” Harold was smiling because at least Liz wasn’t crying this time.
“Finn, pull the van over here will you, just so they don’t see what we load.” Harold turned and let the rifle butt slide to the floor. Then gave Liz her wobbly-legs hug with the other arm. “Come on, get this lot loaded or I’ll have to do it again.” Liz gave him another thump on the chest and headed back to get the goodies.
Though as they were loading Liz moved close to Harold and murmured, “Shot four off my ass and then kicked the shit out of the other four? Someone has been telling porkies.” Then she smiled happily. “We’ll gang up on Casper and get the truth.”
Harold’s answer was just as quiet. “Keep your trap shut and if nobody else noticed, you get the full story.”
“Deal. Macho bastard.”
Once the van was loaded Harold called out to the other vehicles. “No more detours. We got lucky this time so I’m not risking it again. Straight for the meeting now.” There were no objections. As the convoy exited the car park and headed down the road outside, the two big cars were lurking a hundred yards down a side road. As the last van came past they started forward, keen to see what the fire had left. SUVs Harold remembered, those big estate cars were four wheel drive Sports Utility Vehicles. Off-road poser cars, just right for budding gangsters.
* * *
The Halfords store really was a ruin. There was a scattering of packaging and bits of metal and glass in the car park that crunched under the wheels, but there wasn’t likely to be anything left worth scavenging. The twisted remains of cycles and a roof box for a car were visible in the wreckage where the roof had come down, all of it smoke-blackened. Harold was disappointed because he’d hoped for camping gear. Perhaps gas stoves or barbecues and suchlike.
A small spanner skittered away underfoot as Harold stepped out of the rear door of the pickup cab. He was only carrying a baseball bat but the rifle was laid across the seat in easy reach. “Hello?” The convoy was nearly an hour late because of detours. Forced detours were more common deeper in the city since roads were blocked by burned out vehicles and rubble as well as occasional barricades. The lower suspension on the estate car had most trouble over the rough sections and bringing it might have been a mistake.
“Casper, Matthew, and Bernie, have a quick look inside will you. See if there is anything that’s worth salvaging. Then we’ll settle in and give it until two.” Harold was already wondering if the brewers had changed their minds, or had been found overnight and were dead or in hiding. The three men climbed out of the vehicles and had started towards the ruin when a voice spoke from inside.
“Stay right there.” That was a man’s voice and there was movement where a corner of the brickwork was still standing. “Everyone stay still while I work out if you’re the right people.” Twin barrels appeared round the bricks. “This is a shotgun so don’t get ambitious.”
Liz had followed Casper out of the minibus with her homemade spear. “Don’t do that. If you threaten them one of these two will offer to shove it up your ass.” Harold rolled his eyes and put his hand onto the butt of the rifle to slide it towards him.
“What?” The man had a perfect right to sound startled. “Hang on, are you a woman?”
“I hope so, or I’ve been shopping in the wrong clothes stores.” Liz had a smile but it looked a bit manic to Harold. Her nerves had taken a beating once already today, and Liz looked a bit hyper, wound up like a spring.
“Why are you armed?” That seemed a stupid question but the man really did seem interested.
“So nasty bastards don’t take liberties? We’re all armed and dangerous.” There was a round of sniggering from the minibus and Harold sighed because some of it was definitely female.
“Emmy, climb out and take off your hat please.” Harold was relaxing a bit because this man seemed more interested in the females being armed than any predatory interest. Emmy opened her door and got out, then pulled off her woollen hat and her mass of thin plaits tumbled free.
“Blimey, you’re big. Bet you don’t take no for an answer. Er, sorry.” The man actually sounded sorry, and Harold glanced over at Emmy’s half-raised bat and set expression.
“Very bad thing to say since she’s grieving.”
“Oh shit, I really am sorry luv. It was just, well, I’ve never seen a woman dressed like that. Especially as big as you and armed with a bat. Sorry everyone. I’m pretty sure you’re who I’m meeting but just in case? Who are you and where do you drink?”
“Harry Miller and I used to drink at the Dog and Stoat.”
“I’m Nigel, and Berry is going to slap the hell out of me for my big mouth when she finds out. Sorry again, er?”
“Emmy. It’s all right. I was trying to look like a man.” Emmy’s voice was clear and firm and she didn’t sound angry. Possibly a bit amused now. “Is Berry your, um, girl?”
“Yes, literally since she’s my daughter. We’d better get moving because she’ll be worrying.” Nigel stepped clear of the wall and lowered the shotgun, hiding it inside his long coat. He looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, a spare figure with a small bald patch at the front of his dark brown hair. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses which travelled across the vehicles and people. “Blimey, we’ll be able to bring the sacks of barley and hops as well. Brilliant.”
“Jump in here and you can direct us, unless you’ve got a vehicle?” Harold gestured to the pickup and climbed back in.
“No, I just walked here down the middle of the road with the shotgun under my coat. Our place isn’t far away.” As he walked over to the pickup everyone else climbed back aboard their vehicles. Nigel came round the door and his eyes went wide. “Bloody hell!”
Emmy laughed from the front seat, just a little laugh but Harold was pleased to hear it. The recent deaths were hard to take for the women from the flats and they could drop into tears or anger at the wrong word. “Everyone says that, or something like it, when they see that rifle.”
Harold waved at the seat. “Jump in and stick your shotgun out of that window, Nigel. The driver is Billy and eager to get the hell home again.”
> “Too true. This is much too bloody exciting. Sorry Emmy.” Billy was trying to stop swearing around the women and the rest of the men were following suit. Maybe it was a reaction to the profanity from the rioters and looters.
“Right Billy. Keep going the way you were before pulling in here. There’s a left turn about half a mile down there.” Nigel poked his shotgun out of the open window. “I’ll bet nobody tried anything with you lot.”
“One or two did but Liz frightened them off.” Emmy had definitely cheered up. Perhaps because of meeting a man whose daughter slapped him for being rude to women.
* * *
“The driveway there leads to a garage. Stop short of the door and I’ll open it. The vans will fit inside.” The vehicles bumped down the driveway and the big old garage came into view.
“All the vans? That doesn’t look big enough.”
Nigel gave a short laugh. “It isn’t. The back wall is a door into the flats behind. We knocked out a couple of walls to make a safe place when one of the other brewers was robbed.” True to his word Nigel opened the garage door, walked to the back wall and banged on it with his fist. Then he pulled and the section of wooden wall swung forward. Nigel waved the vehicles in.
The last vehicle drove inside the large impromptu garage and parked next to a big square Luton van. Nigel had already been hugged by a young woman who towered over him. She had the same dark hair but was both taller and wider than her dad. The pair spoke briefly and then she cuffed him gently at the side of the head and came over to Harold, smiling. “Hello, I’m Berry.” She looked over at Emmy. “Dad told me. I’m sorry about that.”
“No problem, he wasn’t to know. You actually did slap him?” Emmy was smiling back.
“I have to now and then. It’s revenge for being beaten as a child.” Berry’s smile belied the words. “He says we can take everything because you brought extra transport? That’ll make life easier.” The young woman turned and pointed. “We broke the equipment down through there but it’ll need a couple of strong men to carry some of the bits through.” She smiled at Emmy. “Or you and I can do it.”
Harold called out to the people climbing out of the vehicles. “Through there, everyone. This young lady will tell you what goes where. Let’s get turned round and go home.” Then he followed the rest.
* * *
There were a lot of stainless steel containers and electrical bits to load and even with the three big vans it only just fitted. “It’s a real, semi-professional microbrewery. We set up in business four years ago and did well, selling Berry Beer.” Nigel smiled. “What else could I call it? Berry helped right from the start but to be honest, when her Mum got the cancer, I might have let it go. Berry wouldn’t hear of it.”
The last bits of wiring and tubing were being tucked away in the estate car and minibus as they talked. Nigel was giving Harold a potted history. “She said her Mum would want us to keep it going, and that helped me through it all. Then the real trouble started.” Nigel sighed. “I was worried about Berry getting caught up in all the violence, but she said it was just as dangerous working in an office.”
Harold nodded. “We’ve got people whose partner or parent never came home from the office one day.”
“I’ve heard similar stories. Though I insisted on taking off the labels when the first pubs were attacked, because Berry is an unusual name. We’ve still got a stack of labels through there, in the office.” Nigel looked around. “We moved here nine months ago and fixed up the false door, because the bastards followed the vans almost back to the last place. The driver realised and diverted but he was too near to home by then. All they had to do was hang about until we had to use the vans again.”
Nigel laughed. “The diversion cost us a lot of beer, but we couldn’t take it all anyway. Half the neighbourhood had a street party and the bastards couldn’t get their car through to follow. We’ve been half expecting a visit for weeks because we were the last ones supplying some of the pubs. We’ve been dropping the beer off at a pre-arranged spot and the landlord turns up there and picks it up. Berry kept changing the places by sticking a pin in a map.” Nigel looked around again as the last sacks went into the pickup. “The Dog and Stoat won’t be the only dry pub.”
“What did the landlords say to you leaving?”
“We didn’t tell them. I’ll ring round and break the news once we’re gone.” Nigel shrugged. “Berry will slap me because I told her I’d done it, but one of them might have said the wrong thing in the wrong place. Several of them knew Berry’s name.”
“We’re ready now. I’m travelling with the girl club in that minibus Dad, so you can talk grown up things.” Berry was smiling, but the brutal truth was they were travelling separate for another reason. So that both brewers weren’t lost if a vehicle was overrun. Berry climbed into the minibus and Gabriela came over and climbed into the pickup. She had a knife taped to a broom handle which she poked out of a window.
“You climb in there with Gabriela, Nigel. I’m going to sit in the back with the sacks.” Harold patted the rifle. “It’ll give me a good all-round view and the hops and such are like sandbags, I hope.” Harold climbed aboard last and the convoy headed out. The garage doors were left wide open, and the first one inside would find two ten gallon plastic drums of beer that wouldn’t fit aboard. The drums were covered in Berry Beer stickers, and more labels were in the front of the pickup with Emmy. So was a crate of beer, those were crammed in everywhere.
The return run was much quicker since this time the drivers knew the clear route. There was only one attempt to stop them. A van was obviously waiting to force a vehicle to stop, because it pulled across the road well ahead. Harold put a bullet clean through the body and the driver pulled out of the way again quickly. Apart from some shouting and a couple of thrown bricks, that was it.
The beer got a bit of a beating when the convoy arrived home and ten full pint bottles were sent up to the soldiers with Berry Beer labels on. Liz reported that the sergeant was a different one, and told her the beer was contraband. It would be seized and destroyed. Then he’d winked and said he hoped the Army widow was doing all right so the word about who lived here had spread. Two days later the washed, empty bottles were at the edge of the exclusion zone though technically the soldiers weren’t allowed to come that far.
Chapter 10:
Enclave
“We’ve emptied about three quarters of them of most things, though we could still take curtains, bedding and suchlike. There’s also carpets and some decent mattresses. A lot of the habitable houses here have broken windows and the curtains and carpets are ruined.” Liz was having trouble with stripping the mobile homes. Mainly due to lack of workers.
“Sorry Liz but I want the sheds and garages taken down between us and the ruins, and some sort of barrier along the edge of our boundary.” Harold waved his arm in a broad arc. “It’s a hell of a job because every garden seems to have something built in it. We’re taking down sheds inside the boundary as well to widen the clear zone.” Harold looked round. “I never have asked, but why are so many windows broken?”
“Yobs driving through and throwing rocks though they’ve not come back since we moved in. Maybe because we’ve got those two cars across the road.” Liz laughed. “A couple of the feistier residents want to let some of them in again. With the extra numbers we’ve got they want to beat the crap out of a few.”
Harold frowned. “Some want to do a lot more than that to any they can catch.”
“It’s a worry. Maybe it’ll ease off in time but Gabriela, Emmy and Holly are particularly angry. Holly really was sweet on Brodie but hadn’t done much about it except a bit of cuddling. Fair enough since Holly is all of seventeen put now she’s bitter over lost opportunities.” Liz sighed. “Hopefully another lad will catch her eye in time.”
“What about Gabriela?”
“Lapsed Catholic and she thinks that Abraham being killed is her fault. Because she sinned with him, lived with a
non-Catholic outside of wedlock, used contraception, the full bit. So his death is God’s vengeance or penance or some such crap. Her problem is that the idea is eating her.” Liz frowned. “A priest would make her do some penances and that would sort it. I’ve tried to find one but the churches aren’t answering the phones any more.”
“No, a lot were shut down when I first arrived now I think about it. I’ll ask the Army.” Harold glanced up at the bypass. “I don’t really hold out much hope.”
“OK. What about my work parties then?” Liz grinned. “Will pretty please work?”
“After you’ve told me I’m too puny for you? No chance. I’m sorry Liz but anyone not on boundary building is scavenging. After all some of the houses over there have got no roofs, let alone no windows, so we need to get the food and gear before the weather does.” Harold smiled. “Anyway, you can ask for people. It’s not like I’m ordering them about.”
“No but a casual ‘would you mind’ has half of them scampering about wagging their tails and eager to please.” Liz shrugged. “Someone has to and you’ve done all right so far. Though be careful what you ask a couple of the younger ones because they’ve got very rosy glasses on. They’ll take a stupid chance rather than report failure.”
“I know.” Harold gave a little smile. “Alfie thinks he wants to be a soldier boy. Not much I can do but I will be careful.”
“Hazel as well in her own way. Toby is definitely that way and a few older ones have soldier leanings. Even a few women. As long as you’re careful?”
“Yes Mum.”
“Watch it or I’ll give you a proper Berrying upside the head.” Berry’s habit of giving her Dad a pretend slap round the head was already a standing joke within a fortnight of her arriving. The brewers had been installed in a pair of semi-detached houses in the middle of the inhabited buildings, with a double garage so that all the equipment would fit. The scavengers were now collecting empty bottles that could be re-sealed as well as the full ones.
