Fall of the Cities: Planting the Orchard

by Vance Huxley

  “Shit, he’s right. He shot him through the left eye for fuck’s sake.” The nearer group looked uncertain but the shotgun wielder spoke up.

  “Then don’t stand looking at him, dickhead. If he shoots again, two of you run for the house and chop his bloody head off because that’s single shot.” Men ducked behind car doors or turned so Harold couldn’t see their eyes. That didn’t protect their throats and anyway, the bullet might actually penetrate a skull at this range. “Tough shit on Jamie, but we can get payback. When I say, we split. He can only shoot one at once and as soon we’re in the houses he can’t see us.”

  “But I can cut your head off. Unless your dick arrives first.” Casper’s voice was music and yes, he’d got the macho bastard thing dead right. “Of course you won’t get here because I’ll shoot you.”

  Even as Casper finished the man turned, still behind the car door, and raised and fired his shotgun in one fluid motion. There was the crash of breaking glass, a scream, and then Casper’s shotgun roared. The man by the car came partway up and then over backwards, halfway into the back seat. The shotgun hit the road and his body slithered down to follow it. One of the yobs nearby looked, and was promptly sick.

  Above the retching Harold could hear someone whimpering but he was watching the men in the road. He noted the sharp metallic noises as Casper broke the gun and reloaded, so chappie got both barrels. That explained the puking because he’d be shredded. Harold raised his voice. “Right you lot, who’s next?”

  “I’ve got the bloke with the blue shirt.” Billy only had a crossbow, but the range was short enough for him to hit.

  Holly’s voice echoed Billy. “Mine’s the asshole in the black jeans.”

  “Bagsy the fat bastard, I’m a lousy shot.” Matthew really was a lousy shot but he was only forty feet away.

  Berry laughed. “I’ll double up ‘cos I’m crap as well.” Harold gave a little smile because the macho bastard thing was catching on. They’d learned the lesson from the flats.

  “Him with the white baseball cap is gonna suck a crossbow bolt in a minute. Give us the word, Harold.” Harold winced because Gabriela really was bitter, and right now sounded downright bloodthirsty.

  While Harold was still registering which men and women had spoken up and was wondering how they’d got there, the downstairs window banged. “I’ve got one of those little rifles as well. I can hit heads from here.” Toby was in on the act. Hilda would be having a fit. More voices were coming from the houses both sides of the street now, and Karen claimed ‘the scrawny punk with the knife’ as her victim.

  Harold stepped into clear view because there were no guns in evidence now, and one of the younger men in the rear group pointed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! We’re all dead. It’s the fucking SAS!”

  “Don’t be a twat.” The speaker was looking hard and wasn’t totally sure what Harold was.

  “He is. He killed Currie and two others in ten seconds flat. With a fucking stick.” There was a clatter as the man dropped his baseball bat. “Oh shit, he’s got a fucking gun now.” He turned and ran off down the road. Harold was trying to remember what the youths had looked like, the ones who ran back at the flats. That had to be one of them.

  There was a lot of muttering among the men in the street, and a voice was raised from behind a car door. “We’re leaving, right? No more shooting.”

  “We want some payback, Harold. That bastard hurt Emmy.” Casper sounded as mad as hell and Harold was near to letting everyone open up. But if even one bloke made it to a house and used a machete on one of these people, people he knew, it would eat Harold up. He knew it. Better if they left without anyone getting hurt, but there would be payment.

  “How is Emmy?” Because the sounds of pain had suddenly stopped and if she was dying then sod it, so were that lot. He’d deal with the dreams.

  “She’ll be all right. Just cuts I think and her eye is working.” Susan’s voice was a long way from firm and Harold could hear the strain.

  Harold heaved a sigh of relief. Then spoke to the yobs. “You leave the weapons and the motors.” There were some protests so he raised his voice. “This lot want to kill you. Don’t give them an excuse.”

  “Yes please, give me an excuse.” Gabriela wasn’t joking and that was clear in her voice.

  “What about the motors? We need transport.”

  Holly at least had an edge of humour in her voice, but it was a savage humour. “Steal some, the same as you did those.”

  There was muttering around the cars. “OK, but for fuck’s sake don’t shoot, all right? Don’t let that bitch start.”

  “Calling her a bitch doesn’t help. Ask your friend who ran off why she’s so bloody angry. Now all stand up nice and slow, then turn and walk away with empty hands.” Harold gave a short laugh. “You can run if you like once you’re past the last car.”

  Nine figures rose carefully, hands going onto some heads as weapons clanged and clattered on the tarmac. They all hesitated for long moments and then turned and walked away. Some did run once they were past the second car, followed by whistles and jeers. Harold waited until the last one was out of the entrance, then he headed for number five to see Emmy.

  * * *

  “Christ Emmy, I thought you were all right.” Half of her face and the left side of her head was covered in a big wad of cotton wool, bandaged into place.

  Karen put a finger on Emmy’s lips as the young woman started to answer. “Keep your face still and let it all clot.” Karen turned to Harold. “It looks like just glass cuts. A lot of them. She told me that as he brought up the gun she turned and started to duck.”

  “He must have seen the movement and thought it was me.” Casper was shaken but still bloody angry. “I should have just shot the bastard.”

  “We will another time. He must have been using birdshot and the double glazing took the power out of the pellets.” Harold sighed. “We might not get that lucky next time. From now on, if anyone is inside the boundary with evil intent we kill them. From hiding and in the back.” Everyone stared.

  “Can we do that?” Harold looked at Holly and she gave a little smile and continued. “I’m good with it because, well, they owe me. It’s just you’ve been saying we’re better than them.”

  “We are. We don’t go and attack their homes, and we don’t torture or make slaves out of them or rape their women. We will kill them and burn the bodies if anyone threatens us, but that’s all.” Harold ran it through mentally. Yes, that made sense and fitted his sense of fairness. This lot weren’t up for a real fight, so ambush worked better and he wouldn’t get someone else shot doing the macho bullshit.

  Harry came through the door with his big rifle. “Here. Take it. I wanted to shoot him and couldn’t pull the damn trigger.” Harold accepted the weapon and Harry slapped him on the arm. “I’m damn glad you came. Now next time you don’t have to worry about hitting an eye.”

  “Hell no.” There was true reverence in Casper’s voice. “That’ll go through the car first if necessary.”

  Harry held out two spare clips, and then fished in his pockets. “There’s another seven loose rounds here but that’s it I’m afraid.”

  Liz came in with her spear. “You’d better get home, Harold, before Sharyn bursts a blood vessel or something. She says there’s someone shouting from the bypass but she’s no idea which house you’re in so can’t phone.” Liz smiled happily. “I heard the macho bastard bullshit. That’s the left eye, who wants the right?” Then Liz saw Emmy and headed that way.

  Harold left the big rifle until he could sneak it home. The weapon might be best left here so Harold didn’t need to sneak it anywhere, since trouble would come through the entrance or from the city. Harold’s house backed against the exclusion zone, at the opposite side of everyone. As soon as he stepped outside and heard the bullhorn properly Harold ducked back inside. He took the little rifle out from under his coat and propped it against the wall. “Liz, will you please phone Sharyn and let her
know I’ve gone straight up to see the Army. They’re getting impatient.”

  “OK. Go on, but remember they’re macho bastards as well.”

  Harold headed for the exclusion zone boundary without going to the road entrance. He didn’t want to go out that way with those yobs still about. He walked up to a warning sign and cupped his hands. “I’m here. What do you want?”

  “What the bloody hell is going on? Who was shooting?”

  “Some yobs came and tried to kidnap the women. They’ve run off.” Harold was shouting as best he could, but the sergeant was using a bullhorn so it wasn’t a fair exchange.

  “Come up here nice and steady, so we can talk properly. Take off that coat first and give me a twirl.” Harold took off the coat and turned slowly with his arms out. “All right you can come up, but no sudden moves.”

  “Can I put the coat back on? It’s cold today.” Which wasn’t surprising since they were well into September now. Harold held up his coat and turned it to show inside and out.

  “All right, Keep your hands out of the pockets.”

  Too true Harold would. The sergeant was on edge and Harold had been on the other end, behind those sandbags. One nervous finger and the rest would shoot as well. He walked across the exclusion zone at an angle and up the road ramp towards the soldiers at a slow, steady pace.

  “Near enough. You know the drill or so I’ve been told. Arms out, turn round and someone will come and search you.” Harold did as he was told and soon a pair of hands patted him down. Really patted him down, thoroughly and professionally. He heard the footsteps retreat to the sandbags and the sergeant spoke again. “You can come up to the barricade now, and explain what just happened.”

  As Harold approached he could see that the sergeant and men were new arrivals. He’d never seen them before and this squad had a wary look about them that spoke of bad experiences. “Hello. You lot are new. I’m Harold Miller, ex-corporal, retired to look after my sister and her kids. There’s an Army widow under that flag and a lot of us are refugees from the violence.” He stopped three paces short, near enough to talk without shouting.

  “Yes, we were told that by the squad who moved out. They said quiet and law-abiding, or as near as it gets.” The sergeant paused. “Not what we’ve found elsewhere. Then we’ve barely settled in and there’s shouting and shooting, and a group of men running off into the ruins. Makes us wonder if there’s been a change of management down there?”

  “No. I can get the women to come out and wave spears or something to prove they aren’t captives?” Harold gave a little smile. “I’d ask you to come down and look but you aren’t allowed.”

  “Too bloody true. One or two idiots followed a pretty smile out of the exclusion zone in other places and never came back. As a hint about anyone else trying that, we burned the area to the ground.” The sergeant’s head came up further and he looked over the buildings below. “I can see people gardening so can we assume the excitement is over?”

  “Yes, though we’ll be burning a couple of bodies in the ruins.”

  “That’s the sort of thing I want to know. Whose bodies, how did they die, and I still want to know who was shooting? One was a little rifle or pistol, the others were shotguns, weren’t they?”

  “Yes Sarge. Two cars full of yobs arrived and demanded a blonde woman one had seen. They threatened to come into the houses and take more women if the answer was no.” There was no humour in Harold’s voice or face now. “They had firearms and parked where you couldn’t see them.”

  “I couldn’t see anything except men and women, some with crossbows and spears, sneaking over back gardens. Spears for God’s sake.” Sarge actually sounded indignant.

  Harold shrugged, then stood very still as a rifle twitched. “Rifle and bayonet since we aren’t allowed a rifle? Stops the assholes laying hands on the women.”

  “Yes, I would imagine so.” A trace of humour showed in the sergeant’s voice for a moment but then disappeared. “So what about the shooting?”

  “I am a very good shot with a two-two target rifle. When one of them aimed a big pistol at me I shot him.” Harold hesitated but it was worth asking. “Do you know if two-two indoor target rounds will go through a skull? That wasn’t in the training.” He stifled another shrug. “I had to shoot him through the eye which was all right since it was only from twenty yards. I’m worried about longer ranges or if I can’t see an eye.”

  Harold was a bit worried about admitting that but surely self-defence was allowed if the police had abdicated? “Then one of them shot at a woman with a shotgun, and one of ours had a shotgun and used it. We’ve ended up with two bodies, both bad guys from our point of view.”

  “I don’t know if a target two-two will go through a skull either, and I’ve had more training. How is the woman?”

  Sarge sounded as if he really was concerned about Emmy, more so than about the shooting, and Harold relaxed a bit. “She was behind a window and he was using small birdshot. She was lucky. Emmy was trying to duck and turn, and was only hit by flying glass. A lot of it but the double glazing slowed up the pellets. She’s got a lot of little cuts and might have scars but her eye is all right.”

  “Good. Now if you just hand in that target rifle?” Apparently Sarge was concerned about the shooting after all.

  “I haven’t got it on me. You could come down for it?” Harold tried a little smile. “Come on Sarge. I’ve got women down there and you expect me to turn over the only protection?”

  “What about the crossbows and spears?”

  “Would you want a daughter of yours to face that type of asshole just with a spear and crossbow?” Harold really hoped that Sarge was a family man.

  He was, or just a decent bloke. There was a real warning in the reply though. “No, but if we see that rifle, or the shotgun, we will shoot whoever is carrying it.”

  “Fair enough Sarge, and thanks.”

  “Now what about the weapons the dead men dropped? That lot running away weren’t armed.” The two soldiers pointing the rifles tensed and Harold was worried again. How far would Sarge push this?

  “Not apparently armed Sarge. Maybe those men picked up the weapons and hid them while running? After all, they knew enough to stop the cars where you couldn’t see them. They know the rules of engagement.” Harold was half resigned to giving up the shotgun.

  “Everyone knows the bloody rules because they’ve been told on the TV and radio. Time after time.” Sarge sounded resigned rather than angry and the two tense soldiers relaxed a little. Though they kept their rifles aimed at Harold. “We’ve even dropped leaflets because their human rights say we have to warn the assholes even if they’re shooting policemen.”

  Sarge turned to the riflemen. “Keep ready but don’t shoot him accidentally, all right?” The rifles moved just out of line and Harold was suddenly very relieved. Shot accidentally sounded a lot like code for remove suspicious looking character when said that way. Characters such as ex-corporal Miller. He wondered just how many people were being shot accidentally these days.

  Sarge looked at Harold again. “I was told you were a smart-arse but good people. Fair enough, but be very careful. We’ve been shot at from the ruins elsewhere so any mistake will be fatal.” He paused and looked down at the houses. “What happened to their cars? Why did they run away on foot?”

  “We asked them to leave the cars as compensation for wounding the young woman. The rest of the women were very angry and the yobs thought it was a good option.” Harold waited to see how Sarge took that and noticed that one of the riflemen had developed a very small smile.

  “The poor defenceless women with the crossbows? You aren’t helping your case, Mr Miller. Still, under the circumstances, I’m relieved to know that your women get scary when they’re angry. Go on, sod off and see to that lass.”

  Harold could hear the humour in Sarge’s voice so he made the offer. “My name is Harold these days. Since it won’t be a bribe now, do your lads prefer impo
unding beer or chips, or possibly hot soup when it gets colder?”

  “Cheeky sod. Any such items, such as Berry Beer, will be immediately confiscated. Just what is Berry Beer made of?”

  “Hops and such I’m told. Berry is one of the young ladies down there.”

  “Really? Good job fraternising isn’t allowed because she sounds like a perfect squaddie’s girlfriend.” Sarge looked over to the side. “What are you two grinning at?” The little smiles on both the riflemen disappeared. Harold was treated to a small smile from the sergeant. “Better get down there and look after her then. Try not to disturb my sleep again, Harold.”

  “I won’t, but I can’t speak for the neighbours. Is it all right if I cut across to the back gardens again, in case of lurkers?”

  “Not a problem since you asked.”

  Harold turned and walked back nice and steady, and without putting his hands in his pockets. Those soldiers were definitely not the young, relaxed recruits he’d seen up to now.

  * * *

  Harold explained the conversation to those waiting in number five when he went to get his little rifle. “Pass the word to everyone as fast as possible please. Make sure everyone keeps firearms, even air pistols, well hidden. That lot up there are very tense.”

  “What about the bodies? The one Casper shot is a real mess.” One look at the speaker, Holly, and Harold knew one person who didn’t want to move that body. She looked very pale.

  “If nobody fancies it, I’ll get Casper to give me a hand to put him in a rubbish bag. Then both of them go into the abandoned housing and we build a bonfire over them.”

  Casper’s voice sounded from behind Harold. “Don’t worry, I’ll clear up my mess. Makes a change from tidying up after you. Though I will take a rubbish sack. Sort of appropriate. Taking out the trash.” Casper put his shotgun down against the wall. “That’s loaded so everyone leave it alone. You go and see the rest Harold, I’ve got this.”

  Harold made sure the little rifle was well hidden under his coat and headed off home. He stopped to answer questions from several other people on the way back and soon there were messengers spreading the warning.