by Vance Huxley
“Not yet. I’ll need to check out the car valeting service first, now I’ve got one.” Patty nodded towards Harold and Mack, who had come across to join her. “Have you worked out a way to talk to these two? Marge will want to come as well, and I’m Harold’s bodyguard.”
Ken took the couple of steps to talk very quietly, so nobody outside Harold, Patty and Mack could hear her. “Harold has two bodyguards, and we have none?” Her tone of voice suggested there might be a way, especially when she glanced at Marge. “Though I can’t really say we’re outnumbered. Unless you’re all Marge’s bodyguards?”
“Just me. She wanted ter see if wot ’Arry said is true, because well, why we’re ’ere.” The big man undid his belt and threw his weapons, including his belt knife, back into his vehicle. “There. Now I’m ’armless.”
“Yeah, and so is Demon when she loses everything but her knife, and of course Soldier Boy is known for being a big pussycat.” Ken looked the three of them over, then her face broke into a huge grin. “Soldier Boy keeps his stick of course. I’ve got a queue of about forty girls wanting to search Soldier Boy or Demon, but I might get another dozen or two when they see you, Mack.”
“Wot about Marge? She don’t need weapons, ’cos of me, so she don’t need a search.”
For a moment Ken looked wary, then a little non-plussed. “Fair enough Mack, I’ll find the right person. This had better be worth all the bloody fuss.” She turned to lead the four of them into Beth’s, where the queue turned out to be spectators. From the comments as Harold and Patty went into a shop to be searched, some might have been volunteers as well.
“I’m not allowed to search Patty because I might get too excited. I should handcuff you first because you might have hand grenades in your pants.” Ski giggled as she opened Harold’s jacket. “There’s a line of jealous women out there, all really annoyed because your manly body is wasted on me. Why didn’t you bring Fergie?”
“Because you’d look silly after the search, when the rest of them found you handcuffed and blindfolded. Oh, and covered in ointment for your bruises.” Harold jumped a bit, because Ski might not be interested but she was thorough.
“But that stuff works. I swear Fergie is recovering faster than anyone else.” Ski stood back, scowling in disgust. “Not even one little hideout knife. With your reputation I expected better.” She continued chattering as the others came back from their searches, Marge accompanied by a very young, embarrassed servant.
Ken led them off, shooing away the curious spectators. Harold stuck close to Marge, pointing out the lack of real damage and how happy the servants looked. Mack’s missus still wasn’t convinced Beth’s would be a good place to run to, though she agreed she saw less abject misery here than in the Mansion. The Trooper came on the speakers, greeted with a big cheer. “I’m a bit worried that advertises my visit. We’re short-handed so if anyone realises?”
Ski casually waved a hand in the direction of a speaker. “That’s just the tannoy, not the radio. We’ll play the Trooper again later, on air, but we couldn’t let you visit without saying hi.” To underline the greeting a servant brought Harold a Union flag, which he wrapped around his shoulders. That raised another round of cheers.
Marge looked puzzled even after the flag was explained. “Yes, but the servants are cheering as well. For you, a rival gang boss.”
Actually, Harold thought the servants were quite restrained compared to the last visit. “Because of the song, the Trooper. That and the flag are a joke, and they’re still grateful because we fixed the radio.”
“Yes, but that’s the point, they all think it’s their radio, not Barbie radio.” Marge seemed to be working something through in her head so Harold let her be. She sniffed when she saw the whipping post. “I can think of a few people who might benefit from a good whipping.” Harold just nodded because so could he, and until very recently all the Hot Rods would have been on the list.
Ken led them up the stairs again, but this time she turned away from the radio room. She stopped outside a door with ‘Boss Bitch’ carefully stencilled across it. “We’ve taken precautions, but you’ll get what you asked for. You knew you would, you smartarsed bastard, because we just have to know what you’ve come up with now.” When Ken pushed the door open, Malibu and Christie were sat behind a table at the far end of the room. Three sawn-off shotguns lay on the table, one in front of each chair. Ken pointed to four seats against the wall, next to the door. “Sit there, and stay there. You don’t get up, any of you, unless I tell you very clearly that you can. Deal?”
“Deal.” Harold glanced at the others, and they nodded. “What about those two?” He pointed to a pair of Barbies, Beetch and Cherry Pie, both holding a pistol and a machete.
As Ken followed Harold in, Malibu answered. “They’ll stay until you are sat down. To be honest we might tell those two your big secret, later once we know it. Is that a problem?”
“Your decision.” Sure enough, as soon as Ken sat behind the table and the four from Orchard Close were seated, Cherry and Beetch left, slamming the door. The three Barbies each put a hand on a shotgun, with their finger alongside the trigger. Harold smiled, because they’d definitely found a way to manage without bodyguards. Now he just had to hope their fingers didn’t twitch in surprise.
5 – Fuel Me Once, Fuel Me Twice
There wasn’t much point in beating around the bushes. A quick glance each way to make sure nobody had changed their minds, a quick breath, then Harold asked. “I’m not going to spin this out. How much diesel would it cost me to persuade Doc to make a house call, to visit Orchard Close?” He tried very hard to keep his voice level, but too much relied on the answer.
“You haven’t got enough.” Three puzzled faces watched Harold. The tanker was still a secret.
“How do you know? You didn’t give me a figure.” Harold really hoped one of them gave a proper answer because if he went on his knees to beg they’d shoot—pure reflex. He concentrated on keeping his face straight and his big mouth shut.
Malibu glanced at Ken and Christie and shrugged. “Five thousand litres.” They all grinned, but they were also curious about what Harold would offer next.
“Done, when can she call?” It took all Harold’s willpower to keep his face straight, and he daren’t glance at the others. He nearly collapsed in relief because they’d started well below his top offer.
Three startled faces looked back at him before Ken recovered and frowned. “Ten thousand litres.”
“That’s naughty, I agreed the deal. Okay, done, when can she call?” This time Harold couldn’t help it, he smiled, but he didn’t care now. If it hadn’t been for the shotguns he’d have been on his feet, celebrating. The Barbies were hooked!
Christie leant forward, intent. “Fifteen thousand?” Harold opened his mouth but Ken took her hand off the shotgun and thumped the table.
“Shit, you’ve got Caddi’s fucking tanker!”
“Language.” Five pairs of eyes turned to Mack, then followed his pointing finger to Marge.
“Not only that, but you need lessons in bargaining. When I agree the price you ask for, it’s a deal.” Harold wore a big sunny smile because the sheer avarice opposite meant the Barbies would agree. A doctor for Mercedes, and Wamil, and all those others! A tiny, hopeful ray of light pierced that big black nothing the other side of Mercedes’ death. “I can only go up to thirty thousand litres and I’ll want some extras for that. That’s a very big carrot, but there are a lot of greedy bunnies out there so be quick.”
“Deal.” Ken paused, glancing at the other two but they were nodding. “We’ll even give you twenty thousand litres credit. What did you want, exactly?”
“More medication and operations or stitching for anyone who needs it, and advice for Lenny. He’ll want Doc to check his work to date. We’ll also want sanctuary for any of ours who need it in the future. Full buy-in.” Harold paused, then asked the big question. “When can she come? Doc.”
“
I’ll tell her to get packing. Where the hell is…? No, you won’t tell me. How safe is it? Crap, not safe enough.” Malibu took a deep breath. “Hang on, we need Cherry and Beetch back in here. They know all the secrets, and they can get on with organising.” She called on the radio; the pair must have been waiting outside because they entered immediately.
As they came in, Ken grinned and pointed at Marge. “Mack reckons his missus is a cripes zone, same as Orchard Close. Since these four have brought a lovely gift, I reckon we can go that far.”
“We want Doc disguised for a house call, Orchard Close, as soon as possible. The escort must be original Barbies, completely trustworthy because they’ve found Caddi’s tanker and want to park it in our basement.” Malibu put a finger to her lips as the two Barbies opened their mouths. Their lips ran through a silent string of words they couldn’t say.
The pair recovered quickly. “Cripes then, but I’m going to need a few minutes once I’m out of hearing.” Beetch turned to Harold and hesitated, then shrugged. “How are you going to hide us and our weapons, because if Doc goes into Orchard Close so do her guards?”
Harold thought fast because that made sense. “Hide the weapons as you come through the gate, then head for the visitor house. Hell, I’ll wheel them through the gates in a barrow before you come inside, covered up like a gun repair. That way you’ll be searched as usual. Once you’re settled some of you can come out for a beer, but leave your weapons in the house until you leave. Most people will never know.” He laughed, possibly the first real, happy laugh since he’d seen Caddi in his lounge. “Nobody will recognise Doc except Doll, because she only treats Barbies and everyone knows she doesn’t make house calls.”
Beetch glanced at Ken, who nodded, then she turned and headed out of the door followed by Cherry Pie. Despite the frantic agreement and organising, Christie had been thinking. As soon as the door closed again, she narrowed her eyes and pointed at Harold. “What’s this about a full buy-in? What are you expecting? Is this for when the Army leave, because those Mart guards will be able to shoot straight into your enclave?”
“Not twice. By the time they’ve mopped the blood off the sandbags and replaced the guards, they’ll get the message.” Patty smirked at Christie’s puzzled look, but then her humour faltered. “If we get hit again, by someone like the General, we can’t afford the losses. There might still be enough people but we’d be short of fighters. Then there’s the sheer physical labour repairing the housing. It’s a good job we’ve snaffled some extra ruins, some that haven’t been pillaged, because we need a lot of new windows and doors.”
“We can’t take a huge number of people.” Malibu held up her hand to stop any objections. “Because of the amount of room, not the price. We keep our numbers controlled, so there’s a bit of breathing room. Are you sure your people will want to come here?” Her eyes went to Marge. “Some people might find us a little rougher than Orchard Close.”
“The Mansion was more than a little rough on some of these people. They are the young women Caddi and his like imprisoned and abused. If the worst happens, I will explain to any of them who are considering coming here. The other options are probably worse, although I’ve never seen the other gangs at home.” Marge glanced at Mack, picking her words with care. “The reality is an improvement on my expectations, but maybe the same will be true of the GOFS. None of our people want to go to the Geeks. Though if anyone comes here, one thing has to be absolutely set in stone. They are buying in, as a full gang member, not a serf or servant.”
“There might not be very many, because if Orchard Close splits up some of us will go through the wire. We reckon if we meet slavers it’ll top up our ammunition, and give us reinforcements.” Despite her smile, the vicious edge in Patty’s voice could almost have drawn blood.
Malibu looked from Patty to Marge and back, then opted for answering Patty. “Soldier Boy has fixed the Army? In that case, if some of you leave, let us know. There’s one or two of ours who might fancy a bit of country living. A couple of them used to have ponies, back before the Crash.” Her little smile was almost wistful, then her eyes lit up. “Hey, do you want a couple more like Casper? They don’t fancy the Pinkies but they’re our only two gay blokes. Ethel is useless here, but he’d be a big help to you.” Ken sniggered and Malibu glanced that way before continuing. “He was a butcher’s apprentice, but there’s been no animals to chop up since the Crash.”
Harold ignored the part about fixing the Army. “Just don’t say anything yet. We might stay where we are, though your pair can still join us if they want to.”
“Any of the fighters, the women, can come here tomorrow.” Ken smirked at Patty before turning back to Harold. “Those are some mean bitches now. Ski explained how they fight and they’ve already got good armour and weapons. We’ll even create a couple of Barbie names if we need to. Barbie Myrtyua, or Barbie Casper? Barbie Doll is a natural. Who actually wants to come?”
“We aren’t sure because it hasn’t been seriously discussed, not yet. For now we haven’t told most of the residents, but if we are hit, badly, we’ll ask the survivors. The ones coming here may include children and ordinary citizens who will garden, clean, cook or whatever. They won’t be here for amusement or abuse. Everyone will buy in the same as soldiers.” Harold half-expected some argument, but the three Barbies looked at each other before coming to an unspoken agreement.
Malibu leant forward, intent. “One big secret from you, and now you get one in return. The Barbies will hunt you down if you open your big mouths to dipshits elsewhere.”
That took a round of discussion on Harold’s side of the table, but curiosity won out. “Done.”
“Everyone in Beth’s, except a very few captives, are Barbies. Even the servants. Our prisoners never know. If your people buy in, what they do for a living doesn’t matter because everyone has a stake.” Malibu was looking at Harold as she spoke, without a shred of humour. Harold would have laughed but the Barbies really were dead serious. He thought through what he’d been wondering about, about the party after the radio was fixed, the condition of the servants and their attitudes.
“All the stories?”
“It was wild at the start so most of them are true. Bad shit happened. But then, well, it isn’t easy to force a bloke to perform. It’s a bit less than satisfying.” Ken was smiling a little as she said it. “Not so easy for a woman to force a woman either, not if you expect her to join in the fun.”
“We already knew that willing lovers and helpers work out much better.” A little smile from Malibu now.
“And then, well, if you even breathe this I’ll deny ever seeing you and hunt you down personally.” Christie broke into a big smile. “A girl likes a bit of a cuddle sometimes. Try sticking a knife under someone’s chin and insisting on tenderness!”
Patty was still puzzled, but she had a half-smile. Until she’d got to know a few Barbies, Christie’s admission would have seemed impossible, and even now Patty suspected a windup. “What about all the rumours about torture and murder? Did someone mistake an orgy for something more serious?”
“Oh, those aren’t rumours, though we’ve managed a few fairly impressive orgies as well. Murder, torture, sex prisoners, turning prisoners loose so we could hunt them through the ruins, we’ve probably done everything you ever heard about us and maybe worse. All the original Barbies are true psycho bitches, high-security prisoners, and quite a few of us were in for murder. We did some of it deliberately, to make a point, but these days the reputation does the job most of the time. Even so none of us are reformed, just relaxed. Ask the Hot Rods.” Her eyes narrowed as Ken looked at Harold. “Speaking of reputations, it’s been months since Soldier Boy murdered someone from three miles away.” She pointed at Patty. “And finding out you were straight? That was a heartbreaker!”
“As long as anyone coming here is treated decent. If they aren’t, there’ll be mystery lead migraines because I’ll be annoyed. I can always nip back through
the wire if I have to.” Harold watched as the three Barbies exchanged looks, then nodded.
Ken turned back to Harold, but glanced at Patty and Mack. “But what guarantee does Orchard Close have if Soldier Boy goes down?”
“I’ll come after you, but not openly. Soldier Boy taught me to shoot and I will get personal.” Patty pointed an index finger at each in turn, then blew imaginary smoke from the end.
“Yeah, quite a few people have worked out you must be Shooter Three.” Ken nodded as Patty smirked, as good as a confession. “We were already suspicious because we never saw the shotgun you supposedly kept hidden in that sheath, but then you started flaunting that fancy rifle. From what I heard you were already a better shooter than anyone here when that sniper died, and you’ve had more practice now.” Ken held up her hands and shrugged. “I had to ask about your guarantee, because there had to be something.”
“Two somethings. I’ll be ’elpin ’er if it comes to that. To make sure Marge’s girls get treated decent, see, them wot were treated bad at the Mansion?” All three Barbies stared from Mack to Marge, because that was a hell of a statement coming from a Hot Rod. Harold had seen the big man look at his missus and get a nod first, so Marge must have decided. Now it all came down to payment and how quickly Doc could be organised.
There wasn’t time for a detailed discussion because Harold for one wanted the Doc on the way as soon as possible. The Barbies wanted the diesel even quicker.
* * *
Quick as possible turned out to be right now, because Beetch bustled in to report. Doc had already been crammed into a car full of fighters, wearing full fighting kit and a blonde wig. Her escort formed up, four Barbie vehicles with more fighters including Beach Beetch and Cherry Pie, while another six fighters climbed into the back of a pickup.
There were two conditions before the wheels started turning. Nobody else except the patients and medics would know about Doc being in Orchard Close, though it would leak later, and Harold had to prove he could pay. Harold agreed, offering to take a Barbie to see the tanker after dark to prove it existed. He also had his own stipulations, no mention of what he’d paid with or the possible abandoning of Orchard Close.
