by Vance Huxley
With two quick strides Harold reached over the top of the assailant’s open-faced crash helmet, jerking back and down. He lifted a knee into the small of the youth’s conveniently angled back, hard, yanking him over backwards and down with a high-pitched squeal. Harold stamped on the hand with the machete. It wasn’t enough, so he leaned down, using the brass knuckles on the lad’s exposed nose and mouth. Once, twice, three times, short solid jabs hard enough to break teeth but not the skull. The nutter dropped the machete, clutching at his ruined face. Harold glanced up again to check if anyone had noticed.
Not yet, Harold’s latest victim curled up whimpering and bleeding,whileCheeky still seemed to be out cold. The last of the box-holders went down, sothe victors would soon be looking for more victims or a way out. Pete lunged for the machete but Harold stamped on the blade. “Don’t be a fool. Somebody will kill you for that. Or those,” he continued as the youth tried to gather up the games. Behind them the battered gangster crawled away, leaving a trail of blood.
“They’ll kill me if I don’t bring something back, and some sort of weapon,” Pete retorted. “I have to get the games. I owe Caddi big-time.”
“Stupid bastard.” Harold wouldn’t be able to face Tessa if Caddi decided to kill her idiot brother, notif he could have prevented it. With a sigh, he turned his back to the fighting before picking up the machete, keeping it out of sight. “Take off the bloody helmet and stuff this down your jeans. That way you can walk out through the checkout with a few cans like any other civvie.”
Pete looked down at the games. “But...” he began.
“Pick two.” Harold picked several of the rest up off the floor. As Pete stuffed his games inside his jacket and stowed the machete, Harold covered the action with his body and the rucksack. Three of the victorious fighters, Ferdinands,pounced on the crawling gangster and then the unconscious man nearby. They killed and searched both before turning towards Harold.Harold held the games out to the nearest. His other hand, wearing the knuckles, poised to toss the rucksack and wade in. “Here, we don’t play fightinggames. We’re here for groceries.” Harold bent a little, scootingthe games boxes along the floor before kicking the othersin the same direction.
“No balls? Clever little boy.” The Ferdinand grinned, picking them up. He stepped to the side to point a machete at Pete. “What’s he got then?” Another two Ferdinands joined the group.
“Does someone need spanking, Harold?” The voice belonged to Casper, and came as a relief to Harold at least.
Harold straightened, grinning andholding his hand out to the side. He heard footsteps and an iron bar nearly a metre long slapped into his palm. He got a good grip. “Thanks Casper.” Harold looked the nearest gangster straight in the eye. “Well, do you want spanking?” The youth’s eyes widened. Harold knew he’d be seeing Casper, Henry, Billy and Alfie, all wielding similar bars.
“Leave it, you twat, it’s Soldier Boy. I recognise that big bald bastard.” The man, pulling on the gangster’s arm, tugged harder. “They’ll kill you.” The gangster looked at the games he’d just been given, puzzled.
Harold sneered at him. “I told you, I don’t play at fighting.” He dropped the rucksack to show the bloody brass knuckles. “Well?”
“Fuck it, no chance.” The Ferdinands turned, running towards the checkouts.
Harold glanced back to the rest. “Sorry Casper, he’s in a hurry.” All five laughed.
“I have to get out.” Pete cringed as thefive big men turned towards him. “The rest will expect me to bring the stuff out.” The lad glanced down at his jacket. “At least I kept the best ones, but you know what you gave away? A bloody fortune.”
“You have to be alive to spend it, stupid. In any case, I really don’t play computer games.” Harold hustled the youth further to the side. “Pick up your hat again. You can walk out nice and peaceful in a bit, when all the scrapping calms down. Have you got enough coupons for those games?” Pete nodded, but he looked decidedly shifty. “How come? Remember, I know your sister so no crap.”
Pete swallowed hard, looking anywhere but straight at Harold. “I, well, er. Look, don’t tell Tessa. Please?” The silly idiot looked more frightened than when someone had been trying to cut his fingers off. “I owe someone and this is how I have to pay. I borrowed some coupons….”
Harold didn’t want to hear details because he already had enough troubles. “Caddi is your problem. Just get it sorted without involving Tessa because she’s had enough crap already.” Like a boyfriend left behind in Kuwait when the Army pulled out, well over three years ago, and a five-year-old kid. Even the MOD had stopped trying to pretend any of those blokes were coming home. “Grab a few cans or packets,try and make it look as if you really are shopping.” Harold turned to the others. “We’ll get what we can from the shopping list, then look at the clothing while we wait.”
“You can get some new frillies, Casper.” Alfie grinned at the big bald man.
“It’s not my frillies you’re interested in.” Casper smirked as Alfie glanced at Harold and away.
AsAlfielooked away from Harold, at the displays on the nearby shelves, his eyes fastened on a stack of tubs. “There’s even some coffee again, though not much.” The group took the lot. “D’you reckon the rumours are true, that the idiots in Glasgow burned theirMart because there were no teabags and coffee?”
“Bugatti reckons they’d been distilling booze from any rubbish they could, and went crazy.” Pete flinched away as Casper and Henry turned towards him. Casper still wanted some personal payback from Bugatti, a local gangster. “That’s what they’re saying in the Mansion.” Harold bit off a question about what Pete had been doing talking to Bugattior visiting the headquarters of the Hot Rods, a neighbouring gang, because it wasn’t his business.
“There’s sugar as well today.” Alfie stuffed bags into his pack. “This will be popular with, er, the girl club.” He glared at Casper’s snigger. Billy and Henry brightened, quicklycollecting some sugar.
Harold smiled without letting Alfie see. “Shortages might be a real reason to riot. There must be a reason tea and coffee are still on the shelves when foreign imports have supposedly stopped.” He pointed to the stack of small plastic tubs behind the Perspex door on a nearby shelf. “Be a real UncleCasper and get some chocolate powder, will you, please?”
Casper picked up a tub, smiling. “For Daisy’s cereal? One day she’ll have to accept there never will be any more CocoPops, though I’m not going to be the one to tell her.”
Henry flinched dramatically. “Cripes, nor me.” Alfie nodded heartfelt agreement, because even at six, Daisy could out-argue most of Orchard Close, or cry for England.
“Chocolate is another import.” Casper glanced at Harold, puzzled. “Are you skint? I’ll get a couple for Sharyn. If she doesn’t want them someone else will be happy to pay.” He picked two more tubs for Harold’s sister. The others quickly calculated what they could afford before taking more tubs. As the only chocolate product, the powder would be very popular with more than the girl club, the unattached females.
Harold shook his head, pointing deeper into the Mart. “I’m buying clothes for the kids today, so I’ll need all my spare coupons.”
Alfie hesitated, calculating, then put a third tub of chocolate in his pack. “The girl club would burn the Martif chocolate stopped altogether.”
“Both the Coven and Barbies would help.”Harold frowned at a thought.”Daisy might do it all on her own if she finds out CocoPops are extinct.”
The other fourlooked amused, because Daisy’s reaction would be truly spectacular. “Cripes, yes.”
“Back to real shopping. We’re supposed to get spices.” Alfie looked around hopefully, but with the shelves all changed round, he’d no idea where to start. Casper spotted the spices but that didn’t help. “The names on the shelves don’t match the list, but Liz and Patty threatened to skin me if we didn’t bring some.”
Harold peered at the list of flavours, the
n the shelf. “Sharyn is the head witch and she threatened to curse me, so I’m not taking the blame.”
“Your sister might run the Coven, but Patty is their hit-woman and she gave me my instructions.” Casper started putting random packets of spices in his pack. “I’m a fairy and Harold’s a wimp so we’ll blame you, Alfie, if these are wrong. You’ll get hauled into the girl club to explain.” Alfie started to object, rethought the last bit and smiled. After all, at seventeen he didn’t care if he was invited or hauled into the two big houses full of single women. The five of them quickly worked down the list, except for the meat and flour on the shelves by the exit.
*
Once they’d sorted out the Coven list, Harold headed for the clothing to pick up new T-shirts for young Wills and Daisy. As usual they also needed underwear; despite the food shortages the kids grew like weeds. All fivemenbought new boxers while the Mart had some in stock, whileAlfie also chose a few packs of women’s knickers, allegedly for resale. Henry started to tweak him, thought again and bought some as well.
Finally Casper tapped Harold’s arm. “Now’s our chance.” The noise by the exits had died down so all six headed that way. Casper took the machete from Pete, just in case stray gangsters turned up. The five of them wanted to shop quickly, before the second string gangsters were finished with the games shelves. They’d only be beating on each other, not killing, but there were a lot of them. Harold stopped where the spam should be, when the Mart had any. “Pinch me, Casper. Cripes, punch me. Is that really corned beef?”
“Glory hallelujah.” Henry picked up a can with true reverence. “Instead of spam?” He scowled, looking closer at the label. “It’s the same price as spam. If they’ve just changed the labels I’ll personally burn the damn Mart down.”
“Worry later. Come on, take as much as we can carry while those idiots are still fighting over computer games.” Harold turned to Pete. “Fill your pockets.”
Pete looked down, shamefaced. “I’ve haven’t many coupons of my own.”
“Then carry some for us as payment for the protection. We want all we can stagger away with.” Harold held out a can. “Come on, move it.” The sounds of combat seemed to be moving this way again.
“Flour, there’s plenty of flouras well.” Alfie’s smile faded as he looked from one stack to the other. “Do we take self-raising or plain, they’ve got both this time?”
“How would I know, it’s a year since I’ve seen a choice.Just get as much of each sort as possible.” Harold grinned even as he stuffed corned beef cans into his pack. “Pippa can make proper bread cobs to put the rabbit burgers in.” Alfie started loading up with flour,smiling quietly at the thought. Billy threw a few more cans in his pack, then joined Alfie.
“This is about enough.” Casper grunted as he lifted the pack and nudged Henry. “Be careful with yours. Mine’s still got a frame inside to strengthen it.” Harold gave Casper a warning glance. He didn’t want Pete opening his mouth and telling the rival gangsters in the Mansion how Orchard Close hid their weapons. Everyone quickly stuffed their pockets with extra cans,before pulling backseveral aislesas the second wave of nutters arrived.The small group used the half hour before the sounds of strife died away again to gothrough the wizened potatoes, looking for any suitable for chitting. Emmy had complained too many had been used for food; she needed enough to plant this year’s crop.
When Harold and his friends came back to the meat and flour aisles, they were filling with unarmed shoppers. These poor sods paid protection to the gangs for the privilege of living in their territory,so they kept well clear of five big men with iron bars and a machete. The men themselves were laughing about the reaction once the gangsters realised what they’d missed. The nutters wouldn’t even be able to steal the corned beef from the ordinary shoppers, because by tomorrow most of the cans would be a tasty memory.
Harold’s group topped off their packs with the dried meat sticks most people called dog chews, strongly flavoured but inedible unless cut up and stewed. While they wrangled over which flavours came closest to the descriptions, Harold kept an eye on the checkouts. “Come on, three aisles are clear.” He glanced at Pete and beckoned. “Give me our cans and your stuff to take through.”
Pete started handing over the corned beef but looked decidedly wary. “I ought to take the games through myself.”
Harold shrugged, cramming the cans wherever they’d fit. “Okay. I’m going through with the machete first, in case there’s trouble outside. Henry and Billy will go through the aisles either side. Alfie and Casper will wave their iron bars and watch our backs, then go through straight after us. You have no pack,so some scroat will assume you’ve got games and rob you.”
Pete stared, shocked, until Harold saw realisation dawn.Gangsters like the ones he’d come with would do just that. “All right. I’ll go out the no-shopping exit.” He hesitated, his hand straying towards a pocket. “Can you carry my spare coupons because if I lose them C… someone will skin me.”
“You’re working directly for Caddi? You’re a bloody idiot but yes, because Tessa wouldn’t want you used as crossbow practice.” Pete shuddered because Caddi, the Hot Rod gang boss, did consider that a normal punishment. The youth handed over three games and a fat roll of coupons, then headed for the mass exit. There Pete hesitated, waiting until he could go through with people he judged weren’t stupid enough to shoplift. The Mart scanned everyone leaving that way in batches. One person shoplifting meant they were all arrested and sent to the work camps.
Harold also had a thick roll of coupons this time, because the Coven had given him part of their emergency fund. He split them between all five of them. “Here, coupons for the food. I’ve got extra to cover buyingas much spam as possible, orcorned beef as it happens, butdon’t flash them about.” The Coven paid for basic food, but everyone bought their own luxuries such as chocolate, coffee and clothes.
“I’d say things about learning to suck eggs, but there aren’t any eggs to learn with.” Casper glanced after Pete, now heading into the exit, and smirked. “We could pay with Caddi’s coupons?”
“If I didn’t know Pete’s sister I’d be tempted. That roll of coupons he brought for games is more than we’ve brought for food.” Harold smiled blissfully, patting the roll Pete had handed over. “Now I know how rich he is, I’ll jack up the prices for fixing Caddi’s guns and Patty can charge more for knitting.” They parted, laughing, to head down three separate narrow metal-walled corridors, each leading to a door and a checkout. After paying for the groceries with the Coven coupons, Harold used almost all his personal nest eggfor his private shopping. He scowled as he peeled off the coupons from Caddi’s roll to pay for Pete’s games. Few carried the same name, yet every one already had the second thumbprint to make the coupon legal tender. Protection payments.
*
By the time Harold came out, Pete waited, twitching, almost hopping from one foot to the other. “They’ve gone!”
“Cripes, give me a chance! I’ve just got out of the doors. Who’s gone? No, I don’t want to know.” Harold had no intention of getting dragged into strife with Caddi over whatever Pete had done. If it didn’t concern Orchard Close, Harold didn’t want to know.He’d rather get to the neutral territory of the bypass. Unfortunately, he had to wait for the others by the doors, so Pete bent his, Henry’s and Billy’s ears anyway. Pete had come with escorts to guard the games, buthe’d lost them in the melee. They’d left, probably assuming Pete was dead. Caddi would be annoyed, but only over losing the coupons.
Pete daren’t go home along the neutral road without guards, becausedesperate loners often lurked along the route. Ayouth not wearing gang colours and walking alone would be ambushed. He couldn’t go any other way because a quarter-mile wide no-go zone, enforced by machine guns, lay between the Mart and Hot Rod border. Despite the whinging getting on his nerves, Harold had to smile. Emmy and Patty, and a crossbow bolt,were responsible for the no-go zone. The pair would be happy to know they
were still causing Caddi’s people some grief.
“You got yourself into the trouble, so you get out of it. I’m headed home and if you’ve got any sense you’ll come with us on the by-pass. That way you can walk home from the other direction and won’t need an escort. You’ll have to come part way up there anyway, becauseyour stuff is in my pack and I’m not stopping to look for it until I get to safer ground.” As soon as Casper and Alfie came out, Harold set off with Pete in tow. “If it wasn’t for Tessa I’d have walked away anyway. Thank her when you see her. How is she anyway?”
“Er, she’s okay. I think?”
Harold let the disgust show in his voice. “Stupid burke, you’ve left home. Bet she doesn’t know about any of this crap, does she?”
“No. Maybe.” Pete sounded sullen now, but at least the whining stopped. Outside the Mart yard gates, Harold turned towards the bypass. The occasional sharp cracks of gunshots echoed from the entrance to TesdaMart, out of sight of the exits behind a brick wall. This last year the Mart guards had become more and more callous. They’d be shooting the badly wounded, so they could shift the bodies and close the doorways. As soon as the last shopper left, and the less seriously wounded had been thrown outside the fence, the Mart dispensers would be topped up and the floors cleared and washed down. They’d be ready for the afternoon opening as if nobody had died.
Pete roused from whatever he’d been mulling over. “Can I come back with you? You’re right, I can make it from there on my own.”
“As long as you go straight home.” Harold glared at him. “If someone comes for you I’ll hand you over. The treaty means I can’t take runners from Caddi.”
Pete smiled, the first real happiness Harold had seen from him. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll let Tessa know I saw you.” The youth’s grin faded. “Oh Christ, what about the, er...” Pete gestured to the machete. “The Army don’t allow weapons on the bypass,but I can’t go back with nothing, no weapon. The bat wasn’t mine.”
“It was Caddi’s, wasn’t it, you stupid idiot?” Harold didn’t wait for a reply. “Put the machete down your jeans again. I’ll hide that hat in my pack. TheArmy won’t be suspicious because you’ve got no gang tattoos or logos on your gear.They’ll think you’re an ordinary shopper. The wand will bleep so the soldiers will start searching for the metal, butthey’ll stop when they find corned beef.” Harold called the other four across to hide what Pete would be doing, and explained. As Pete hid the machete he glared at the youth. “You go through alone and well ahead. You are not with us, get it? Remember, I’ll come after you if you cause us any grief or nick any of those cans, right?”
