by Vance Huxley
“No, or maybe a whatever. Nominal leader by impromptu vote of the residents.” Two thirds anyway, Harold thought. The rest had been told.
“All of them?”
“All except the kids under fourteen.”
The officer looked at the houses, and then the barricade. “There was a lot of fire coming from here.”
“Briefly until they ran out. There’s a few arrows and a few two-two rounds left and nobody is aiming any at you.”
“Good. We are clearing the road and moving into the city. Please don’t obstruct us.”
“You must be joking. We’ve been praying for it.” Harold paused but he had to ask. “What will happen to us?”
“Nothing if you keep out of it. We have a list of enclaves, and yours isn’t on it. What is yours called, just for the record, and how big an area do you claim?”
“Claim? Look, can we talk sensibly instead of shouting. After all if anyone does something silly we’ll last as long as it takes to pull a trigger.” Harold looked each way. “I can come round but it will take a few minutes. This doesn’t open.”
The lieutenant talked on his radio for a moment. Behind him another tank crunched past and then a personnel carrier. “I’ve got clearance. The sergeant claims you are decent people.” The officer clambered down and walked up to the barricade and read the sign. “Without invitation? If they get one how does that work since you can’t open up?” He seemed more relaxed now and genuinely interested.
“They have to walk through a gap in the garages and round the side past the vehicles. Then we search them.” Harold looked at the wrecked garages. “You’ve made that easier.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Not really, since you sorted out that lot laid in the road. I was going to knock them down to give us some clearance but we never had time.” Harold looked at the bodies and grimaced. “They’re going to take some clearing away. None of this lot are used to that sort of thing.”
“You are, aren’t you?” Harold stared and the officer gave a little smile. “It was the way you said it.”
“Ex-Army, and I came back from Kuwait straight into riot control in London, and then Calais. Then the Army offered, so I left all legal and proper. I left because my sister is a widow with two kids and the Army weren’t helping her much.” Harold gestured, slowly, towards his house. “The place with the flag.”
“The Army widow? We were told, but not about you. Are the rest all civvies?”
“Yes. We’ve got people from seventy six down to four. About these bodies. Can we retrieve our arrows now just in case some of that lot come back?”
“They won’t. We’re chasing them home. If nobody does anything foolish we could clear the road for you?” Behind the officer the next rumbling and clanking was an armoured bulldozer. The blade was pushing a mess of bodies and some masonry. The machine swerved to push them, and the wreckage of the cars, through the ruined house opposite the entrance. Then it reversed out of sight.
The officer looked where Harold was watching. “That’s the only practical way. We’ll be heaping them up at the far side of that open space.” He looked at the road up to the barricade. “He can clear this lot as well?”
“I’d be really grateful. Though I’d still like to collect the arrows, unless you lot are staying and getting serious about protecting us?” Harold glanced to the side, to the house. “I’ve already told them to put all weapons on the floor and not touch them until the armour is a long way away.”
“Sorry. We’re just passing through.” He looked up and down the road. “All right, you can collect arrows. Inoffensive people and they do not, repeat not, pick up any firearms.”
“Young women?” Harold smiled just a little. “They’ll put skirts on instead of jeans if you can control the soldiers. A couple might put on short skirts as a thank you.”
The officer smiled back. “We’d better not risk that, Mr Miller. The lads haven’t had much leave lately and there’s a dearth of young ladies.”
“Can they collect baseball bats and machetes, please? We don’t have many and every nutter out there has one.”
“Hmm. The baseball bats, yes. I’ll have to check about the sharp stuff. How did you get on in there? I was told that your lines were breached.” The officer hesitated. “Also that there were some short rounds.”
“We lost two and some wounded to the artillery, and two houses. We have another seven dead, men and women including a fourteen year old lad who wanted to be a soldier. We’ve got a lot of wounded and one probably won’t make it. Can the Army spare any wound dressings? Antibiotics would help, our trainee nurse tells me?” Harold sighed. “Otherwise we might lose more.”
“I really am sorry but no.” The officer braced to attention. “There will never be any official recognition that it happened, but the Army is truly sorry about the casualties we caused.”
“I understand, and the rest will do so in time. Some already realise that you saved all our lives and the shorts weren’t on purpose.” Harold thought the apology deserved some recognition. “If you’re going to clear the road, I’ve got something for you or the driver.” Harold smiled.
“What would that be?”
“If I threw two bottles over would anyone shoot me?”
“Not if I warn them. Bottles of what?”
“Berry Beer. They will explode if opened too soon after being shaken which would be a crime.” Harold held them up.
The lieutenant gave the personnel carrier a hand signal, and turned back. “One at a time, very carefully. There was a rumour about Berry Beer. What berries are they named for?”
“Who. The perfect squaddie’s girlfriend, I was told. A pretty, seventeen year old brewer called Berry.”
“I’d better not mention that or there could be a riot, and a tank through the gate.” The officer was smiling as he put the first one down to carefully catch the second bottle.
“If you clear that lot far enough away so we can’t smell them, there could be a couple of crates left in yon house?”
“We’ll do that, don’t worry. Some of us will be back this way and would probably appreciate the beer, but we’ll clear up properly anyway.” The officer looked over at the still-burning ruins. “We can’t do much about that but most of the nearer bodies will have burned. I still need a name for your enclave, and the number of residents and an area of influence. For the record.”
“Orchard Close, and we have seventy residents but that might be sixty-nine tomorrow. We only set a border once in reaction to an attack and that was more of a warning. We want leaving alone, that’s all.” Harold was puzzled about the area part, were others doing that? “We really might lose more people if the wounds can’t be kept clean so the number might not hold.”
“I really am sorry but we aren’t allowed. We are specifically forbidden in fact by the rules of engagement.” The officer shook his head a little. “Those are comprehensive.” He glanced towards the city. “I’ll include a mile each way, all right? Just it keep it all tidy.” The officer went back to his vehicle and spoke into the radio before returning.
“Up to ten women can come out, and they can take edged weapons and bows as well since those are permitted for self-defence. You’ve got an hour at most until the bulldozer comes to sort this out.” The officer smiled. “The ages of the women are your concern but they must not pick up firearms.”
“I’ll warn them.” A thought struck Harold. “Can we get rid of the bodies of the ones we, and you, killed in the clear zone? We can throw them onto the fires the other side, since the buildings are already burning. It’ll stop them stinking the place out?”
“That sounds like a really good idea. Bring us any firearms you discover?” The officer had a little smile so Harold assumed he wasn’t expecting any. Harold could take that hint.
“Of course, if we actually find any. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He gestured with a bottle of beer. “Your little community is a pleasant surpri
se and I wish you luck, Mr Miller.” The officer climbed onto his personnel carrier and the vehicle reversed to the end of the street.
“Emmy, Sal, Holly!” Harold looked up as the first window opened. “We’ve got an hour. Ten women can go out there and collect arrows, baseball bats, knives, bows and machetes and then the Army are clearing the road.” By now all three were looking from windows. “Please do not touch a firearm no matter how tempting.” Harold smiled. “Dress in jeans and don’t look too tempting since those soldiers aren’t allowed to fraternise.” Harold dropped his voice. “We’ll get some firearms from the other boundary so don’t take risks.”
“No problem Harold. Can we smile at the soldiers?” Tired and strained or not, Emmy managed a lovely smile.
“Yes, but stay clear. They haven’t seen a woman close up in months and might have no manners at all.” Emmy laughed.
“That’s a shame. Soldiers give great hugs.” Sal waved at the personnel carrier and closed her window. The other windows closed and moments later Holly was running up the street shouting names.
Harold caught Emmy as she ran past. “Just throw the lot over the barricade and we’ll sort them later.”
“OK, but you’d better move from there or you’ll get flattened.” Harold did after asking Casper to keep an eye on things, then he set off up the street at a fast limp.
Bess and Berry came past him along with Liz, heading for the gate. They were soon followed by Holly and a slim intense looking young woman with long black hair. “This is Gayle. Gayle, this is Harold.” Then the two were gone at the run. Harold needed to catch up on who actually lived here.
* * *
Harold went to the centre house of the boundary defence. “We’ll need teams, Matthew, to get rid of the dead assholes out there. Maybe four people per team and strong enough between them to throw a body on a fire. Someone with a wound can go as well to help with collecting. We’ll take boots, shoes, undamaged clothing, and weapons. Retrieve our shafts either from the bodies or the misses.”
“What about any wounded?”
“What wounded? Use crossbows in case they lash out.” Harold eyed Matthew. “Are you all right with that?”
The normally mild mannered man produced a fairly good snarl. “Just now most of us will happily nail them to trees for target practice.” Then Matthew smiled. “I’ll give Bess a full sized crossbow for that job.”
“Bess is looking all sweet and innocent for the Army, and collecting allowed weapons and arrows from the bodies outside the gate.” Harold glanced that way. “If you get chance before the bulldozer clears them, go and have a peek over the barricade. We were lucky here.”
Matthew had started to smile at the comment about Bess but now his face paled. “Really? Christ.” He rallied. “I’ll get Jon to use the crossbow. He’s limping but both hands work just fine.”
“Fair enough. Be really careful with firearms if there are any.”
Matthew frowned. “What should we actually do about retrieving the guns? There’s at least one shotgun I can see.”
“Cover them with clothing, then bring them back all bundled up. Make sure you get a person between the weapon and the Army while you cover them up.” Harold grimaced, “Search the bodies as well as you can for ammo and anything else useful. Lighters, penknives, whatever.”
“Cash?”
“Good thinking, if we can ever find anywhere to spend it.” Harold tried to think but that more or less covered it. “Pocket any used ammo as well and I’ll refill them.”
“Really? You really can?” Matthew smiled. “We thought it was only the little ones for the rifle.”
“I can reload some of the others.” Harold grinned. “Then your girlfriend can go crazy again.”
Matthew shuffled his feet a bit and looked uncomfortable. “About that. I wouldn’t mind, and Bess seems interested? It’s just when we dived for the floor I banged my shoulder, and she came to see if I was all right.” Matthew shrugged with his good shoulder. “Then she wanted a hug because that banging and fire really was bloody scary and you said it was my job.” He gave a little smile. “She hugged back and we talked a bit. Bess says it’s nice to have a choice.”
“Just be sure how far you want it to go. I mean as in permanent or a fling. Bess might have different ideas.” Harold was smiling for two reasons. Matthew was a bit shy and if Bess had shifted targets Harold was off the hook. He didn’t think Bess would use the hand holding approach.
“Er, right. Oh! How far? Bloody hell!” Matthew looked stunned. “Er, right. Teams.” Harold left him to it and went to check on the rest.
* * *
An hour and a half later the last body and most of the rubble from the approach road and the front gardens of the main road were in a heap. A large heap at the opposite side of the caravan park, which Harold still thought would be too close when the bodies rotted. The Army thought the heap was too near to their people on the bypass, or were being very tidy, because they solved that. Or rather the RAF did when the whole lot was inundated in what smelled like oil, and then napalm. That stank, but not of rot.
The heap was still firmly ablaze as the bulldozer and the last armoured vehicle headed into the city. Behind the barricade there was a crowd of busy people sorting out the scattered bats and arrows and suchlike. There weren’t a lot of machetes and some were bent, and most of the bats were wood, but the collection was a primitive armoury. There were only two crossbows and one had been run over by the personnel carrier.
“I can straighten these if I’m careful.” Liz was inspecting a bent machete. “Though it will need a lot of charcoal.” She looked over at the ruins where fires still blazed. “Now the tree thing is really serious. Even bushes with thick stems will do, Harold. Then we can make charcoal ourselves.”
“What about the roof timbers? Further back there were more explosions and less napalm and roof timbers will have survived.” Harold looked at the bent blades. “We could make as much as you like.”
“No thanks. Those timbers will be treated and the fumes could be lethal. Do you know all the gods of the forge and old smiths in legend were crippled? That’s because the real smiths were, due to fumes and lousy ventilation.” Liz crooked her back and hobbled a step. “Nope, my fair body stays unsullied by chemicals, ta. So you need lumberjacks.”
“I’ll put one on the list with a blacksmith. Blimey, I’d better stop the barbecue brigade and those who like a log on a fire.” There weren’t many logs being burned yet but some had been gathered. The simple solution to barbecues was to impound all charcoal.
Emmy came over with a big shopping bag. “There you are Liz. We’re cutting the broken shafts off like you said.” She waved a particularly spiked arrow head. “This was a bitch to pull out.”
“Good. Typical though, those are also a bitch to make. Did you save the other end?”
“Yup, someone else is bagging them. Though there’s plenty of plastic for new ones laid about.”
“Ah, but Toby... Oh cripes, that will take some getting used to. The, um, info from the internet says the originals are curved to spin and they work better.” Liz sighed. “That’s gonna be a real problem for a while.” She bent over the machetes again.
Emmy went back to sorting, and Harold went to find something to occupy himself other than thinking of Toby. Berry fixed that.
“I’ve got a bit of a question, Harold.”
“If your Dad doesn’t mind, Seth can move into the brewery.”
Harold ducked but was still lightly Berry’d. “Stop it, we’re only holding hands. Well, a bit of snogging as well but definitely not moving in yet.” Berry sniggered. “Dad would have a heart failure. I’m still about twelve in his head.” Then she straightened. “No, this is a serious question, because I’m not sure of what I saw.”
“When?”
“When you turned into what Liz calls the alien killing machine. That wasn’t a machete, and you don’t carry one anyway. Then it was gone. I’ve been trying to persuade
myself you were using your sheath knife.” Berry sighed. “Tell me that it was so I can forget the whole thing. The whole attack was confusing and all over so quick and I’d rather not keep replaying.”
“Who did you tell?”
Berry narrowed her eyes. “Nobody, because I might have been imagining.”
Harold debated lying. But Berry was smart and she’d not believe sheath knife. “Will you keep a secret from Seth and your Dad?”
“Keep a secret from Dad?”
“I’d prefer it.” Harold smiled. “Practice for if Seth gets beyond snogging?”
“Hey! Stop that!” Berry gave a little smile. “I will need to tell Dad a porky or two about someone eventually. All right, yes.”
“Seriously?”
“Very. Cross my heart. Now tell me or I’m going to slap you.” Berry was smiling.
“All right. Step this way just out of sight.” Harold showed her the weapon, quickly. “Now you say nothing, but you’ll sleep in peace. Very, very few people know.”
“Christ, Harold, why? People would feel safer knowing.”
“If that’s a secret and things go very bad, the assholes might think I’m more or less disarmed. I trained a long time to do that stuff and still do, so let that make you feel better. But also keep it quiet.” Harold smiled. “Or I’ll tell your Dad I saw you nipping into an empty house with Seth, and Seth that you were snogging Billy.”
“Yeuk. Don’t you dare. My lips are sealed.” Berry looked closer at the stick. “What do the words say?”
“The pen is mightier than the sword.”
“Some pen. All right, Harold. Thanks.” She left with a cheery wave.
Harold worried about Berry for a while, which was a bit better than thinking about Toby and the others.
* * *
Eventually everyone ground to a halt and headed home, defeated by sheer exhaustion. Almost everyone. Harry senior, along with several of the others unable to fight such as the arthritic Sandy, stood guard. They all claimed to have managed some rest in the night and early morning. Harold checked one last time that the impromptu sentries were all clear on the radio links and alarms, and headed home. Fatigue and grief were eating at him now, because despite everything he’d lost a lot of people. One in ten. One in five of the actual defenders.
