Last Man Standing

by Vance Huxley

  Out of sight, the rest of those who had dropped over the wall began to collect any shotguns or rifles, stacking them by the steel-plated door into number six before covering them with scavenged clothing. They’d be tucked away out of sight before any helicopters arrived. The rest of the survivors, those who could, went back to hiding long guns where possible or checking their fallen and moving the bodies into the street.

  Mercedes had already gone back to throwing bricks, with her two helpers and Patty. She looked up briefly as an air horn blared out a tune. Bethany held up a radio. “That’s Ru and Charger. Cripes Patty, sit down a minute.”

  “I’m fine. Got to sort this lot out first.” There was half a sob in the next bit. “No Harold or Casper or Alfie to do it now.”

  “There’s Emmy, Liz and Doll, and Liz isn’t even injured, not properly. You’re wobbling about all over. Get over to Lenny and Patricia and let them look at that hand, will you? Before you keel over.” Bethany looked around, trying to see who was relatively unscathed, but most of them were amateurs, newcomers or civvies. “Emmy has a limp again but she’s already chucking orders about, and my arm was injured last time so it’s already half-healed. Some of the others will help. We’ve got this, honest.” Patty gave in, tottering across towards the medics, weaving back and forth. Bethany turned to another casualty who wouldn’t rest. “You should go with her, Mercedes.”

  “I’m not hit. But thank you.” She half-pointed at Bethany’s leg rather than try to stand. “What about that?”

  “That cracked fibula is acting up. I’m hoping it’s not broken under the strain. Maybe I should have got a full cast, but I wanted to be able to move properly. I’ve torn the stitches in my arm, but it isn’t bleeding much. What about your leg, because that’s new?” Bethany pointed to the spreading bloodstain on Mercedes’ jeans, around a long tear. She didn’t mention the trouble Mercedes had with her ribs, or the way she favoured one arm. “That doesn’t look like nothing, and my eyesight is still okay.”

  “Oh. I never felt that.” Mercedes inspected the wound, moving her leg carefully now she’d seen the damage. She pulled out a dressing and bandage, the emergency ones everyone carried on their belt. “I’ll get it sorted properly once I know, Beth.” Bethany recognised a losing battle so she limped off, using a broken spear shaft to take the pressure off her leg.

  The air horn belonged to a Hummer, a genuine Humvee painted in some attempt at Army camouflage, followed by two big SUVs. The cavalcade headed towards two small groups, Barbies and GOFS, the air horn blaring again to get their attention. One group crammed into each SUV, with the tailgates open and legs hanging out, while two people climbed aboard the Humvee.

  * * *

  Bethany limped down to the gateway just in time to greet the visitors. Gofannon and Christie were in the Humvee, with Vulcan and escort in one SUV and Ken plus escort in the other. Everyone in sight did a double-take at Ken. She’d glued a blonde wig to the top of one of Liz’s helmets, which made her look nearly as tall as Mack. She looked nearly as broad as Mack as well, with a quilted jacket covered in overlapping metal plates and more overlapping metal on her padded over-trousers. A mace, GOFS sword and a Rambo made up the set, finished off with heavily-studded motorbike gauntlets and steel toe-capped boots.

  Gofannon looked her up and down. “Hey, no fair. We’re the Gods of Steel.” The Barbies and GOFS seemed to be in a great mood, except for Vulcan who looked worried.

  “Where’s Patty? Er, how is Patty, please?”

  Bethany pointed towards the hospital. “She’s alive, but she’s been wounded.” All of them watched Vulcan head through the opening, squeezing past the tank without another word. He was dropping weaponry as he went.

  “Ah, sorry. He should wait to be searched.” Gofannon actually looked embarrassed. “He’s a bit pissed off that we didn’t attack earlier.”

  “So am I.” Because Bethany would have liked that a lot, preferably before the assholes were over the wall.

  “Can we explain privately, please?” Malibu looked around at the few on their feet because they were all interested in new arrivals. “Without an audience, or with a smaller one?”

  “Yes, of course. Sorry. We’re all a bit tense just now.” Bethany looked around, thinking hard. “I don’t know who you’ll talk to though. Emmy I guess, and Doll, maybe, if Lenny thinks she can manage. I think Tessa is still on her feet, though she might be helping with the wounded or looking for Harold and the rest.”

  “Let’s get the searches out of the way and get to the big house, then you can sort it out. How bad is Patty?” Malibu inspected the people nearby, obviously trying to recognise them. It wasn’t easy under the armour, grime and blood. “Bloody hell. Who else is, well, who made it?”

  “We’re still working that out. Forget the searches. With the amount of weaponry laid about in there it’s pointless. We’re concentrating on getting the rifles and shotguns out of sight.” Bethany glanced up at the bypass then turned away, beckoning. “We half expected that lot to come down here. Come on, if you squeeze past we’ll see if there’s anything to eat or drink. We can’t move the Tank yet, not until we’ve removed our dead.”

  Vulcan sat on the kerb near Harold’s house, with a giggling Patty on his knee. “Hey, behave, she’s under the influence.” Bethany scowled down at him, and Patty. “She’s stuffed full of painkillers.” At least Bethany thought that was causing the giggling.

  Vulcan looked momentarily horrified. “I wouldn’t!” Then he grinned. “Well I would, if she was sober and we’d had a last dance. Providing Patty took off her weapons first.”

  Patty giggled and swayed, almost falling until Vulcan’s arm tightened round her. “You’ve already got my skirt off!” It was true, the denim skirt with the strips of iron riveted to it was missing.

  “The medic did that, and you’ve still got your jeans on.” Vulcan carefully patted her Rambo sheath, without patting Patty or her jeans. “And your weapons.”

  “I couldn’t do that in public. Take off all my weapons.” Patty whispered in his ear and Vulcan laughed.

  “I’ll remember that, but now we have to go to a boring meeting.” He kissed Patty, very gently. “So you’ll have to sit in a chair and be all official.” Nobody mentioned the mass of padding and bandages covering Patty’s hand up past her wrist, or what damage might be under there.

  Patty pouted and tried to stand, wincing as her sling moved and she knocked her hand. “Ow. I think I need to heal up a bit before we discuss disarming again.” She looked up at Bethany. “Now how do I get up?” Gofannon gravely offered a hand, then as soon as Patty stood up Vulcan joined her. He tucked her uninjured arm through his before heading for Harold’s house.

  Christie hesitated, looking towards the heap of bricks. “We should have Mercedes there as well, surely? Why is she digging?”

  “She’s looking for Harold. You won’t get her to stop until she’s found him. There’s cellars under those three heaps of rubble, so if they haven’t collapsed someone might have survived.” Bethany wasn’t sure what would happen when Mercedes found Harold’s body, either collapse or an explosion. Harold would have been rearguard, a bullet magnet at the end so only a few optimists expected to find him alive. “She’s got a leg wound that needs attention, she’s favouring her arm, and her ribs are injured but that’s from last time.”

  Ken looked at the mounds of rubble and then Gofannon. “I’ve got all those lazy sods waiting out there, and so have you. A score of each? After all, they haven’t done much so far.”

  Gofannon nodded. Bethany smiled when she caught on. “Perhaps if Christie explained, because Mercedes won’t listen to me. Try and get her to the medic first, please.” Christie smiled agreement, heading for the small group throwing bricks while Ken and Gofannon sent one runner each to bring the muscle.

  * * *

  Mercedes agreed that she would come to the meeting if it meant forty fresh workers shifting rubble. By the time she’d been bandaged properly by
Patricia, as Christie suggested, Tessa and Emmy had arrived as well. A very pale Ru claimed an armchair, with her leg still sporting a tourniquet to help the new dressing stop the bleeding. “I’ve brought you some new wheels, Mercedes.” Ru managed a wan smile. “I thought a Humvee would be right. You know, for you two?”

  “Where did you get it?” Tessa dived in because reminding Mercedes of Harold just now might end up with her in tears, or strangling Ru. At least the young woman had got rid of most of her weapons so she could dig.

  “The streets on the other side of the farm are a car park. There must be fifty or sixty motors out there. All the top people in the gangs must have parked there, but that one has to be the prize. Though I fancy a lovely orange Peugeot soft top that seems to be abandoned.” Ru brightened a little. “Matthew can go back to being a traffic warden. Charger was going to steal a few of them and make for the wire, when we thought you lot were going to attack.” Ru waved at the GOFS and Barbies.

  “Matthew won’t be issuing any more tickets, ever. We haven’t found Bess so she might be in a cellar, but she must be wounded to leave him.” Tessa brought it back on track again because Ru seemed to be wandering a bit while Patty kept closing her eyes. She looked at the GOFS and Barbies, one at a time, then gestured to include all four. “So why didn’t you? Attack, that is, attack the General and preferably in time to kill those, those, cripeses before they got inside?” Tessa bit off ‘and killed Harold’ because she was upset enough already and Mercedes might turn homicidal.

  * * *

  Gofannon and Christie turned to each other, both looking embarrassed, but Vulcan jumped in. “Because they wouldn’t let me. At first I threatened to shoot a couple of people to persuade the guards to open the gates, but eventually Gof and Ogou talked sense into me.” He glanced across towards Ken and Christie. “The Barbies had the same problem. If a few of us had made a run for it we’d have got here, been slaughtered, and the General would have set the Bloods loose on the estates.” He turned back to Patty with a rueful smile. “Or not, as it happens.”

  Ken looked uncomfortable, but not apologetic. “Blame me but if we hadn’t done it my way, those we chopped would have probably visited our estates on the way home. Most of them were Bloods or the ones with red crosses, all well-armed and armoured even if they had no ammo. We’d been monitoring the roads, so we knew the attack would go in last night. I waited until dark, then sent out everyone who could sneak, armed with crossbows, machetes and knives. None of them took a gun, so none of them could shoot even if they were in the cripes. I figured the General would need his radios to control the attack, so the watchers would have bicycles with only a couple in charge carrying radios.” With a shrug she nodded towards Gofannon. “I’d sent a Ski-type messenger the first night, to ask Gofannon to put out his men in a line when the time came. I wanted him to pick off anyone running away from us.”

  “We went to meet the Barbies instead and caught a couple of those, on cycles. The rest died nice and quiet because we got them from behind. Ken’s idea is what finally persuaded carrot-top to wait. We’d still get here, as fast as possible, but with enough time to storm the rocket launchers while the attack was still going in.” It was Gofannon’s turn to shrug. “I figured a couple of salvoes up their fundamental would distract even the Bloods.”

  “I wish.” Tessa still wasn’t exactly forgiving, but the two gangs had tried.

  “By the time our first scouts reached here, it was all over.” Vulcan glanced at Patty and her hand, again. “We were still going to take the launchers, to blast Orchard Close before the General could celebrate, but then the Army did it for us. We re-assessed.”

  “What he means is he pulled his head out of his ass, and started thinking like our warchief instead of a love-struck teenager.” Gofannon grinned at the scowl from Vulcan. “Though we just thought he’d gone crazy. Did any of you hear a couple of big bangs as we were carving up the survivors?”

  “We were probably cheering too loud. Big bangs?” Tessa looked at her friends, but none of them seemed to know.

  “Yeah, the genius there reckoned the General had lost too many men, so he would split his force. We thought Vulcan was still besotted, but he reckoned the rockets and wounded would get out before we realised and blocked the way home. He sent a message to the Castle, to bring armour and the cannon.” This time Gofannon’s look at Vulcan brought a smirk. “He’d been very particular about where the General’s men could travel, to keep them away from the estates, so we had the exact route.”

  Ken scowled at Vulcan, and shook her fist. “The GOFS got all the fun, though I sent a message to Beth’s for Malibu to pick up any spares. Anyone who made it home after she got the girls in position is a very lucky boy.” She bowed towards Vulcan, without standing, as did Christie and Gofannon, and Gofannon chuckled. Vulcan really wasn’t paying attention; he was supporting Patty because she’d almost passed out again. “The GOFS report arrived while we were getting into your new motors. Just quick and nasty, no details, but if you’d like a rocket launcher and ammo you can swap for an electric car. The cannon and Bren carrier hit the General’s wounded and the guards for the launchers. The survivors scattered, but the launchers surrendered intact.”

  “The trouble is we aren’t sure how many the General brought, and how many he left at home. Otherwise, we’d invite you to come with us and pay a visit.” Gofannon rubbed his hands in glee. “Though the Pinkies are history for starters, then the Trainspotters and Ferdinands because there’s a lot of dead ones laid around your gate. I doubt there’s a dozen real fighters left in either gang.”

  Some of the Orchard Close contingent were curious about the Bren carrier, but it wasn’t really that important right now. “I doubt we can raise three fit fighters.” It wasn’t easy, but Emmy fessed up. “We nearly got it wrong. If fifty or sixty hadn’t run off, most of them still fit and armed, we might have lost. No, we would definitely have lost.” She indicated the present company and her own bandaged hand and walking stick. “As you can see, it was still close. There’s some who aren’t wounded but they’re the latest recruits, barely trained, or non-combatants who loaded pistols and threw bombs. Not the usual definition of non-combatant, I suppose. They were all volunteers who would have gone down swinging, but experienced fighters would have slaughtered them.”

  “Seventy-eight ran from the Annex. Eleven went north but were shot before getting to the ruins. I was counting down but couldn’t shoot the rest in time, before they reached cover. Though we can tell you who the General brought, stuff like that.” Ru smiled brightly so the drugs were working properly again. “There’s a bloke over in the farm, a prisoner or maybe a refugee. The General kept him as some sort of captive strategic expert, he reckons, and he really was the only one without a weapon. If someone calls the farm, they’ll bring him over.” She turned to Gofannon and smirked. “We can swap you an automatic instead of a car, or really good rifles with ammo?”

  “Can you make deals?” As the Orchard Close contingent all looked towards her, Christie continued very cautiously. “I just wondered who would be speaking for Orchard Close? We know the top people but, well, which one of you gets the job?” Ken and the two GOFS looked cautious now, because changes in gang leadership could be violent. So far nobody had confirmed Soldier Boy’s death, but nobody seemed to be expecting him to survive.

  “Where are all the rest, Harold’s sister and the kids? Shit, they’re not? Well, shit, not the kids?” Ken really looked alarmed as she realised the usual hostess was missing.

  “Safe. They’re through the wire. We want to clear the bodies from the Annex where there aren’t many, then the kids can get under a roof instead of canvas.” Emmy gestured towards the bypass. “We want them back in here as soon as possible, straight after the armoured cars leave. If the Army catch them on that side of the wire it’ll be the camps. We don’t know if Harold is dead, or the likes of Casper, not until we dig out the cellars.” Her tone of voice, and the gloomy looks from
the rest, didn’t have much hope.

  “Can we bring the rest of our people in? They’ll help you dig, or shift bodies.” Malibu smiled at the sharp looks from Bethany and Tessa. “They might nick the odd bit of nice steel, but the ones I’ve brought won’t care about blood and shit.”

  “If they clear the bodies, we’ll give them some steel, and even a few firearms once we’ve got everything under cover. Just don’t help yourselves, or we’d consider that being greedy.” Tessa looked at Mercedes, who nodded, and Emmy who did the same, while Ru waved a negligent arm, go for it. Patty kept drifting off which might be the best thing for her. All that kept her in the chair was Vulcan’s arm.

  “Patty should sleep, or go for treatment. Will the Barbies take the badly wounded for treatment please? There won’t be as many this time because most of our people hung back and shot as fast as possible.” Emmy smiled briefly at her next thought, but it died quickly. “You can keep the wheels as a down payment, decent wheels because we’ll pick comfortable ambulances.”

  “So does that mean you are making the deals?” Christie kept glancing from Patty to Mercedes. “Or is it a sort of committee with a spokeswoman?”

  Emmy didn’t get a chance to answer. “I don’t want the job. I want to find ’Arold. Patty will be asleep soon while Ru should get off that leg. Lenny has made Doll sit still until he can check to make sure the bullet hasn’t clipped the bone and the whack in the ribs didn’t break anything. Bess, Casper, Alfie and ’Arold are missing. So yes, Emmy is in charge and can make deals, or Tessa—whoever wants it.” Mercedes looked around, a hint of steel back in her voice. “I’ll back any of them if necessary.”

  “I’m out because the Army will want to talk to us. If I go up there just now, I’ll shoot one of the useless sods.” Every single pair of eyes turned towards Emmy, usually one of the more equable residents. She’d been a lot less tolerant since the Hot Rods tried to burn Tammy, and it hadn’t worn off yet.