by Vance Huxley
Orchard Close couldn’t defend all their wallsat the same time, so if someone attacked, sections might have to be abandoned. The most vulnerable walls were the two three-hundred-metre-long sections,sixty metres apart, connecting the original Orchard Close to the Annex.Two trenches were dug, one across each end of the enclosed gardens, to isolate them from the housing. At over two metres deep, and nearly as wide,set three metres out from the compound wall at each end, the result stopped any possibility of a mass attack across them. The huge amountof spoil wasn’t wasted, it went into the old road bedsto growcrops. Every night the guards in each compound removed all but one plank across ‘their’ trench, in case someone sneaked into the gardens to get to the Annex or Orchard Close. Maybe the residents were paranoid, but precautions like thathelped them live with it.
The shorter days meant the Riot Squad could now practice earlier in the evening without being clearly visible. To keep their secrets, the Demons practiced with lengths of wood instead of Rambos.Any visitor catching a glimpse of them would see fighters with clubs.The trainees learned to keep formation, holding off the ‘rioters’ wielding baseball bats with their shields and jabbing with their ‘swords’. The Demonswere totally serious about learning to kill gangsters, so most looked downright savage while training, but none had the Mercedes dead-eyed look.Once practice finished they would chat and joke a bit, which relieved Harold.
When more very badly damaged firearms arrived for repair, Harold smelled a big rat. People out there somewhere were trying to get a read on what could be done,perhaps Dealer himself. To throw them off,Harold didn’t try quite as hard with the worst weapons,hoping it wasn’t too late. He didn’t like refusing work, because the more distant customers paid with clips as well as propellant. Harold already had enough brass for a small war, once he’d got more clips and loaded it all.
More gun work came from the locals, a good third in terrible condition because all the gangs were now scouring their ruins for muskets.That meant theyalso foundrusted firearms, buried since the original riots, and some that weren’t real guns. Harold had to explain that display weapons would explode even if he fixed their mechanisms and fitted firing pins.Tessa became adept at stripping, cleaning, and oiling, and could clear simple jamming in some modern weapons. Meanwhile, between them, they perfected the musket building process and spent long hours creating more. The pair eased off a little after a few comments about how much time Harold spent with his wench. After that Harold spent some time working alone in the gun room, while Tessa assembled components at home where nobody would realise.
The influx of coupons were gratefully snapped up by the Coven, to help deal with the new residents. NowHarold took tradable items, ornaments, food, and electrical and plumbing components as well as coupons in payment, as did other trades.When Dealer came back in February,he’d be offered anything Orchard Close didn’t use, including some good quality watches Kharon had repaired. To explain why he suddenly had a sale for all this gear, Harold told everyone that Dealer travelled around trading high value items between enclaves.In response, the Orchard Close scavengers brought in paintings and ornaments, anything in good condition that looked expensive, and many residents donated personal jewellery.The Coven sorted through the jewellery, putting any hallmarked gold or expensive looking gems aside for trading. The rest could be bought by residents, if they wanted any. A few joked that Harold should buy gold rings, either to mark his women or so Mercedes could put one through his nose to lead him about.
*
As November passed, the dwindling number of Hot Rods visitingThe Pub weren’t making as many jokes. That might be because only the wounded were given any leave.Caddi’s anger and frustrationshowed when he visited to deal for repairs. He didn’t bring Mercedes because, as he sourly pointed out, her job was to kill the bloody Murphies, not give Soldier Boy his jollies. The Hot Rods’attack had stalled as the hours of daylight shortened. The Murphies’hit and run tactics, with the added advantage of knowing the streets in the dark, made Hot Rod advances or attempts at infiltration almost suicidal.
Despite Caddi’s preferences, Mercedes turned up with Mack when the big man delivered more abused firearms and collected the repaired ones. Harold thought it was defiance, winding Caddi up for not bringing her on the last visit. The warlord would know because both ET and Mack were there, stunned almost silent by the display. Mercedes pushed Harold’s hand under her blouse without bothering with the where should it go, and told him to get a firmer grip on her leg. Then she tutted and slid his hand round, still below her skirt hem, so she could trap Harold’s fingers between her legs.
It wasn’t defiance, not all of it, because Mercedes made it obvious how much she enjoyed visiting her ‘Arold. Harold no longer wondered if she meant it, that warmth in her eyes persisted right through the visit. The young woman had a definite twinkle in her eyes as she left. Mercedes put her coat on but left it open for goodbye, and her hips did a little shimmy against Harold during the kiss, invisible to the rest. The kiss itself stayed in contact for much too long, tempting Harold to kiss her properly.
After that, Caddi insisted on Mercedes hunting Murphies in the longer dark nights. The visiting Hot Rod elite kept Harold up to date, because Caddi had finally made the Deal public. He’d had to explain why Mercedes rubbed all over Soldier Boy, yet Caddi hadn’t dragged her into his bed. Mercedes promptly declared that the Deal wouldn’t last much longer.None of the Hot Rods bothered asking if they could touch these days, and even lieutenants were treating her with extreme caution because Mercedes had a hair-trigger. Anyone getting near ‘Arold’s territory bled for it, even if the last two swore they never actually made contact. Cooper visited a couple of times, short visits as the hostage while Trev worked on Caddi’s multimedia. The Hot Rod told several people that Mercedes had made it absolutely clear. She was feeling lonely in bed at night and wanted ‘Arold in thereas soon as possible.
It wasn’t always an empty bed, becausethe Killer Queen took another victim up there.The stories about Mercedes and Harold must have made Scarface hopeful or careless. Mercedes needed a new mattress and bedding, and the Bulls needed a new lieutenant. Caddi cheered up a bit, and even more when the next one told to ask turned it down. Throstle from the Baggies lost face, but kept everything else. No matter how keen she was, Mercedes wouldn’t be closing the Deal until spring, until Caddi thought the days were long enough to try a real push. Meanwhile the Hot Rods consolidated, while Mercedes kept the Murphieson edge.
The refugees coming into Orchard Close dropped off dramatically as the weather became colder and the fighting petered out. Anyone venturing out after dark was conspicuous now, especially with the lines stabilising.The trickle still coming seldom brought weapons, tending to be families who sometimes brought hoarded tools instead. Most of these families included teenagers expecting to be recruited without option,as winter amusement or fighters.
Harold concentrated on being ready for either Caddi or the General. The Riot Squad loved their new shields, made of the thick plywood from the railway wagons. Theyoungsters seemed too confident about them, so Harold explained that plywood wouldn’t stop bullets. These youngsters already understood. They weredepending on Soldier Boy winning the firearms exchange,so they could get in close enough for blades.
The smiling faces all had faith that Harold would do that, scarybecausefew had been in a hand to hand fight. No matter how hard they trained, or how much they hated gangsters, Harold knew some would freeze, run, or go berserk once blood began to flow. It isn’t easy to stick a blade into a human. Harold stressed that, especially the sheer effort required.The Riot Squad responded by working harder on their strength and stamina, stabbing or beating sacks full of earth.
Soldier Boy worked just as hard at making sure his other trainees won any firearms exchange. Musket trainees progressed to a single live shot, at night out in the ruins. The noise and smoke were a shock to everyone the first time, so they needed to get over the surprise. At least those shootinga
t people were less likely to freeze than those stabbing, but some would.Harold knew others would shoot high the first time, or shut their eyes and hope to hit. He put extra effort into a few of the very best musket or crossbow trainees. They moved onto two-two rifles, and eventually live shots. The best of those were married to weapons, a Mad Max rifle or a two-two. Harold wanted at least two for each rifle, because someone would be shooting back.
Meanwhile the gangsters visiting Orchard Close were intrigued by the happiness and apparent wealth of the ordinary workers, even the latest refugees. By wealth the gangsters meant electric kettles, TVs, good clothes and plenty of food. The gangsters thought the skills in Orchard Close generated the wealth, when most came from scavenging and efficient gardening. Some of the people in Orchard Close told the visitors, but it didn’t seem to get through to the Hot Rods and Geeks. The occasional comment showed some GOFS and Barbies were listening, and were extending their own scavenging.
Harold worried even more, because the supposed wealth made the place an even bigger prize. Even as he did, the scavengers went out finding more allegedly valuable items, still laid in houses left empty for years. They now worked in groups of at least fifteen, with at least three trained guards carrying firearms.
*
A visit by Dealer on the fourth of December surprised Harold. He’d repaired the weapons, but didn’t expect to be paid until February. Whiletwelve beers went to the cars, Dealer came into the Embassy where Harold turned on a blow heater and pointed out he hadn’t put together a shopping list. Dealer laughed, relaxing into his chair with his beer. “No, but other people have. I’ve had to come out of turn because your rather different offerings are popular. Especially now, or rather for Christmas.”
“Red hats with white pompoms? We’ve a good selection of plastic mistletoe, but they’d lynch me if I traded any of that.”
“I wish I could find real mistletoe. I’d make a killing.” A little gleam of mischief showed in Dealer’s eyes. “First, I want to place a private order.”
“For Christmas? You’ll be back?” Harold couldn’t understand, because Dealer had told him the schedule would be every two months in summer, three in winter.
“I’d like twelve balaclavas, black ones.” Dealer paused and his lip quirked in an almost-smile. “With Dealer knitted across them above the eyes, in white.” Harold burst out laughing, but Dealer wasn’t joking. “Can you have them ready in time?”
“In time to wrap them for under the tree? Probably, if you make another trip on Christmas Eve. That would be another big seller, Christmas wrapping paper, or cards.” Harold looked Dealer up and down. “You should have a jumper with your name on, like this.” He opened his coat to show the Arran jumper Patty had knitted as an advert, with SB in a plain panel on the front. “I’m not sure there’s time before Santa calls.”
Dealer inspected the jumper, definitely interested. “Possibly, at some other timebecauseI can buy myself a present out of season. I’ve got enough orders already to keep your knitters happy until Christmas, probably too many. We’ll have to work out who will be disappointed, so I hope you’ll be bringing the same bodyguard?”
“Come to the pub for a pintwith her,then you can talk through what you want in comfort. We’ll sort out the prices later so nobody knows what you sell?Your men could come as well, because our customers include any visitors.”Harold grinned because he felt bloody sure Dealer’s men didn’t fraternise.
For once Dealer lost his cool, staring open-mouthed. “You have a real pub? I thought the other gangs were winding me up.”
“Yup, with a dartboard and bar skittles. There’s crossbow and knife throwing targets in the back garden, and horseshoe throwingeven if these shoes never saw a horse.” Harold piled it on, because Dealer still looked gobsmacked. “Some of the GOFS and Barbies want to start a darts league, and both of them have football teams ready for the better weather. Come and have a beer with me.”
Harold expected an immediate rejection, but Dealer actually thought about it. “I can’t. If I’m not out of here in a certain time, those men out there will come and get me.” He hesitated, looking almost embarrassed. “Could you take a picture with my phone, please? Me in front of the pub? What is it called?”
“The Pub. It’s the only one.” Harold sobered, because Dealer had lost all trace of his trademark mocking smile.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, because it really is the only one in this city, as far as I know. Certainly the only one open to outside business.”
Dealer shrugged, but even that seemed embarrassed. “It’s silly but I’d like proof, to show it can be done. Especially to people who insist you all live like savages.”
“Would you like a picture in front of the dartboard, with the staff, or outside? I’ll get Patty and Doll to stand with you?” Harold glanced at the door. “Do you have time?”
“For a picture, yes, just outside and not with your charming bodyguard. I would have to answer searching questions at home if I took her to apub.” When Dealer straightened, becoming more his usual self,Harold realised that just for a moment he’d caught a glimpse of the real man. “Please remember my request is private and I’ll pay privately, in coupons. Did you repair the weapons?”
Harold phoned Tessa to bring the repairs in a bag and put them in the hallway, then brought them through for Dealer to inspect. “I’d like clips and propellant please.”
“More clips?”
“We’ve been in three big fights.The pistols go through a horrendous amount when it gets close enough for them, so I want five spare clips for each, at least.” Harold told him the truth, because Dealer must know roughly how many fighters the other gangs had. “Judging by the numbers of men the General used last time, if he gets close we’ll need them all.”
“I can’t comment on that, but understand your reasoning. I’m sure that sort of firepower would be a real comfort to anyone.” Dealer worked the pump action shotgun. “I know of one very happy boy when he gets this back. We’ll discuss exactly how happy, and which clips you want, once we get trading. Would you bring these down please, and anything else you have?” His Dealer smile came back. “Since I’m here I may as well make as much profit as I can.”
“Of course. The Pub is two doors up, and I’ll take the picture myself.” Which Harold did, taking three and making sure he included the sign and the price list on the wall outside. Dealer thanked him and looked genuinely pleased before heading back to his cars. As soon as the gate shut behind him, Harold began phoning round to collect trading goods, and to ask Patty to dress up. Too late, she’d been told and had already given her baby an extra polish.
*
The dealing had an edge of humour to it this time. Not outright joking, because Dealer had his persona firmly in place, but even his bodyguard seemed a little less tense. The gangster who had sent the engraved shotgun would be a very happy boy,going by the price he’d offered to get his toy fixed. The rest paid well, even without whatever percentage Dealer charged on top.
Harold had to ask and Dealer confirmed thatall poser weapons were worth a premium, and he’d had several of them waiting for the right repairer.To prove it, Dealer produced a genuine AK for repair. He offered a very generous price upfront, a price the owner would pay if it worked regardless of what the weapon needed. The repairs on two poser pistols would be priced depending on the work required.
The black dress must have been just what Dealer wanted, because he ordered three more in different sizes, plus one in green anda white one. He also wanted eightcable knit or Arran jumpers for men, and six of different types and styles for women.As promised, Dealer brought patterns or pictures and wool for the orders, along with plenty of brightly coloured wool and all the requested embroidery silks.Hediscussed the work with Patty, which items were priority if she couldn’t get them all knitted andwho wanted a top class job. Patty bargained hard over price versus quality of knitter, and seemed happy with the result. With luck,she reckoned th
ey’d all be ready by Christmas, along with the selection of crocheted animals and dolls. She wasn’t so sure about the embroidery. Dealer had several shirts and sweatshirts he wanted decorated, and a list of sew-on patches if they could be produced.
Once he saw the new melee weapons in the wheelbarrow, Dealer thought long and hard. “I’ll take all threeMorningstars. Whoever thought of that as a woman’s weapon has a sick mind.”
Patty smirked, picking one up and twirling it. “No, the scroats have sick minds. This is a woman’s cure.”David the guard nodded in agreement, as did Dealer. Dealer mentioned the improvement in the usual maces but Harold just put it down to buying an anvil and better kit. The steel helmets were snapped up; they were as shiny as the first ones but tougher.
“Have you any more of those punch daggers?” That little smile hovered. “One of my men recognised them. Did you know they have a name?”
“Instead of punch dagger?”
“Hah, yes. I’d believe that act, except they are apparently a very specific style. My man would like to meet whoever uses them.” The smile appeared again, briefly. “He might even be tempted into the pub.”
“Sorry, you aren’t the only deep, dark secret.” As Harold expected, Dealer’s smile acknowledged the dig.
Harold didn’t expect him to turn towards Patty. “Can you use Katari?”
She smiled back at him, more or less innocently. “Is that what they’re called? I’m versatile, so I carry a selection to deal with surprises.”
