Fall of the Cities_A Mercedes for Soldier Boy

by Vance Huxley

  Ski cautiously agreed that there probably weren’t enough partners for the women at Orchard Close dances. For a moment, when Patty wondered if there were any Barbies who might partner Fergie, Louise and Logan as a favour in return for the springs, Harold thought they’d both get a kiss. As the bubbly bewigged Barbie bounced out, she warned them if Harold changed his mind Beetch would probably come anyway.

  *

  Harold still had plenty of credit with the Barbie Girls for fixing their radio. Now it got a boost, even if nobody mentioned springs. Once the news spread about the dance, however, the attempts to get invites included personal dedications on Barbie Radio.They’dalready played ‘Je t’aime’ again for Harold on Valentine’s Day, and still dedicated ‘The Trooper’ to Soldier Boy.Patty, Ru or the Riot Squad also had their fans, and dedications on the radio, as did those big strong men with their heavy metal weapons.

  The Barbiesalso started broadcasting increasingly scandalous stories about Soldier Boy and Mercedes, mixed with inventive insults aimed at Hot Rods in general and Caddi in particular. Caddi already had the Barbies at the top of his shit list, but their latest broadcasts might move Harold up the rankings.

  Meanwhile Liz had landed in heavy metal and light aluminium heaven. Shesmirked impressively about her new hammer man, whileHenry seemed very happy in his new job and it showed as production ramped up. The quantity and quality of the weaponsimproved, especially the ones that weren’t for sale. A good number weren’t even on view, with only the gate and wall guards wearing their steelhelmets where visitors could see them. With the paintwork, bright patterns to match the shields, they looked like a fancier version of Liz’s first alloy attempts.

  The Riot Squad members kept their weapons at homeout of sight, including more muskets and live reloads, but Harold stockedthree small armouries. He wanted extras to arm whoever finally moved into the Farm. Until then, in an emergency, any off-duty fighters could get to serious weaponry without going home. The spears, shields, helmets and a few maces and Ramboswere kept in the three guardhouses, out of sight of visitors.

  Despite some tension caused by overcrowding, most of the people living in the enclosed garden seemed to feel safe. Many wereliving with bad memories, still subdued by their narrow escape and new surroundings.So far they hadn’t recovered enough to start volunteering as fighters. When more arrived, the sleeping bags ran out and some had to sleep on crude camp beds, wrapped in salvaged bedding. Emptying the composting toilets near the tents became a full-time job.

  Meanwhile Emmy and Patricia came to see Harold, concerned about Elise, Trev’s radio apprentice.Her withdrawal had gone on for nearly two years, and now seemed to be getting worse again. She barely spoke to anyone any more, except Thandia the mastiff. Harold tried talking to her but as usual Elise went almost monosyllabic, insisting all she wanted was to be useful and not cause trouble.That seemed to be a mantra, she wanted to be useful to pay everyone back for saving her. Despite Sharyn, Tessa, Liz and Patty all trying,shestayedcompletely withdrawn, even when working with Trev. Despite that, the repair man confirmed that Elise had learned quite a lot about radios.No wonder, the lass worked every hour she could and spent the rest of her time withThandia.

  The fallout from Caddi when he learned about the raid didn’t amount to much. The warlord sent a message asking what the hell Soldier Boy and the bloody GOFS were doing poaching on Hot Rods turf. Harold told Charger, the messenger, that they hadn’t touched any of Caddi’s territory,nor had they given the Murphies anything in trade. Privately, in the Embassy, Charger admitted that Caddi wasn’t that upset.The Hot Rod boss was too busy crowing, about the Trainspotters backing off, and promising not to interfere in the war with the Murphies. The message came just after Mercedes came back from a mystery trip.

  Harold asked about Mercedes because it was expected, and anyway he actually wanted to know. The Killer Queen fought on the front line now, with the men, andher ear collection kept growing. The Hot Rod gangsters who came to The Pub, wounded fighters still recovering,were full of her exploits.Harold thought Caddi would have to be careful how he moved on Mercedes, because the Hot Rod troops loved her. Sex symbol and inclined towards bloody mayhem, she was a gangster’s dream girl. Charger collected the real reason for his visit, the repaired muskets and pistols and a few repaired radios. He promised to let Mercedes know that Harold had asked about her.

  Harold checked that Trev had made sure the Orchard Close listening post could tune in to the repaired radios.The listening post had a much better than standard directional receiver, a Trev special. In the right conditions, the listeners could hear Caddi’s hand-held radiosas far as the nearest sections of the front lines, four or five miles. Intercepted messages confirmed when Caddi finished off one half of the Murphies, with only scattered fighting as the victorious troops rooted out any survivors. The Ferdinands trimmed off a slice for themselves during the disruption, without any response from Caddi. According to the radio messages, Caddi had already started reorganising for a drive into the rest of the Murphy territory.

  The numbers of refugees had dropped off while the Hot Rods were on the opposite side of the disputed territory, but there’d be another flood when he attacked the rest. Any who left it too late would find their route had become a battleground.Both the GOFS and the Barbies asked Harold, officially, if he wanted to come and carve a piece off the Murphies. Heexplainedthat territory the other side of another gang would be no good to him.

  Orchard Close were fully occupied anyway, dealing with the territory and refugees they’d already got. Emmy’s gnomes were in full gardening mode, commandeeringa good third of the refugeesto plant out seedlings. Almost all the rest of those fit to work were preparing the Farm, while Emmy chivvied Harold to get the tents moved. The experienced scavengers organised large groups of new arrivals. Instead of the previous piecemeal approach, the demolition teams methodically sorted out anything useful and cleared the rest. Bernie in particular kept telling the newcomers to look everywhere, look behind, look under and over and move things. Good finds were still turning up, like a half-buried builder’s van with a ton of cement, still dry. A small electric trail bike and an electric quad joined the fleet of vehicles, both now in working order.

  AsCaddi closed in on the last of the Murphies, the number of refugees in tents topped seventy, bringing the population up to three hundred and twenty.Harold couldn’t help feeling that time was running out.

  *

  Despite all the careful listening to radios and second guessing,the next development came a complete surprise. Four days before the end of March, just after nine in the evening,a radio call asked Harold to get over to the Annexquickly but not for an attack. Fergie met him, looking uncertain. “She just asks for you.”

  “Who?”

  “Mercedes.” Harold looked around. The guardsstood on the walls, closed up and armed, at full alert, but no Mercedes. “Here, I’ll take you.”

  Mercedes stood on the cleared ground outside the compound, lit up by a torch, and she wasn’t posing or smiling. The torn rags the young woman worewere bloody, as were both of her hands, her face, everywhere. She gripped a Rambo in one fist, clotted with gore. Harold dropped over the wall even as Fergie put out a hand to stop him. “It isn’t a trap. Get a bloody ladder!” Harold hurried over, and as he came near Mercedes swayed a bit and lifted her head.

  “You came.” Mercedes sighed and swayed again. “The bastard. Three of them. He set me up.” Her other fist came forward and opened and lumps of skin and meat dropped. “They told me in the end.” The first sob camewith the next words, “Help me, ‘Arold.”

  Harold caught her mid-crumple. Mercedes got an arm around Harold’s neck, and as he picked her up he heard a clang behind him as the knife dropped. Now he could see she wore someone’s slashed and gory jeans tied around her as a bra, and a torn shirt covered in bloody handprints as a skirt. As Mercedes put her head into Harold’s chest the sobs started to come. Deep ones, racking her body.

  �
�Pick up the knife someone, and clean it up will you? A hand up the steps please.” Two people reached down to put an arm under Harold’s armpits, steadying him up and over the wall. They did it again down the steps at the rear, whereRu asked what they shoulddo. “Half and half on alert all night. I’ll tell the rest and let you know more when I know.”

  All the way through the hastily opened gate, across the planks over the trenches and between the tents, Mercedes sobbed. She continued through the gate at the other end as Harold murmured quietly, telling her she was safe now. Mercedes probably never registered the actual words, lost in whatever had happened to her. Her sobs were quietening as Harold came up the path to the big house, where Tessa and Sharyn had the door open, ready.

  “My room. Lots of hot water and some decent clothes please. Let the guard houses know, half and half on alert all night.” Both shot back into the house. By the time Harold came in, Sharyn already had his bedroom door unlocked and open.

  “What happened?”

  “Don’t know. Mercedes said ‘him.’ That might mean Caddi, in which case he’s dead or coming after her.” Harold went through the bedroom door carefully, trying not to knock his burden, and laid Mercedes gently on his bed. Her bloodied arms tightened as Harold tried to stand.

  “No!” Then softer, “Don’t leave ‘Arold. Please?” She looked round and gave a huge sigh, relief he thought. Harold took the bowl Tessa had brought,catching her shocked stare as the room lights gave them all a proper look.

  “Christ, Harold, what happened to her? Was it that bastard Caddi?” Tessa stopped when she realised there just wasn’t time for questions. “I’ll get more water, and towels. Padding and bandages.”

  “I don’t know who hurt her, but they’re dead men. So is Caddi.” Harold got a grip, he could kill the bastards later. Right now he had to make sure Mercedes would survive while he went hunting. “I’ll need clean bedding as well, please?” As Tessa turned to leave, Harold knelt to carefully wipe away the worst from Mercedes’ face. He couldn’t see a big wound, and started worrying about where so much blood could have come from? She was covered in it. Mercedes opened her eyes and they weren’t dead now. Harold flinched from the rage in there.

  “Not you. Stay, please.” Her hand came up to grab Harold’s arm, but he had no intention of leaving. “I just need to rest a bit.” Mercedes tried to sit up but gave up. “A lot. Sorry I went all soggy. It’s just, well, I didn’t expect to make it.” Harold wiped some more and wiping wasn’t working.

  “Don’t worry, you’re safe now. I promise.” He wiped some more but bowls and cloths weren’t going to get the job done. “You need a shower or a bath.” Mercedes opened her eyes wide in alarm. “Tessa and Sharyn will make sure you don’t drown or something.” From behind Harold, someone agreed.

  Mercedes closed her eyes for a long moment. When they opened some of the rage had gone. “No, only ‘Arold gets to see me. Or touch me. Only ‘Arold.” They closed again as Mercedes tried to move but gave up with a short exclamation of pain. The ghost of her old smile showed the next time her eyes opened. “Will you make sure I don’t drown, ‘Arold?”

  “I haven’t got a proper life-saving certificate, but I’ll try.” Harold kept it light, when what he wanted to do was get his rifle and see how high he could stack Hot Rods. He’d never felt like this, even when Holly died. Half of him wanted to kill someone, the other half wanted to stay here and look after Mercedes, to keep her safe forever. Not black despair, not this time, he was absolutely blazing mad and this time someone would definitely die.He heard Sharyn exit, then low talking on the stairs. Sharyn came back while Harold kept trying to clean Mercedes, or at least her face. The fresh blood from her split bottom lip didn’t help.

  “Tessa’s running a bath. When Mercedes is clean there’s clothes. You can put her in Eddie’s bed. Eddie will sleep with Tessa and Wills with me.” Sharyn looked past Harold at his bed. “The bedding’s clean but don’t worry if it gets messed up.”

  Mercedes had tensed up again, a bit of the wildness coming back into her eyes, “No! In here. I’ll sleep in here, it’s safe!” Her eyes went between them, then up to the red heart hung on the wall, and a faint hint of humour came back. “I belong in ‘Arold’s burrow. Please?”

  “No problem. Now, can you make it if I give you an arm?” Harold smiled at her rather than punching the wall.

  “No.” This look was almost shy. “But if you carry me you can wash my back?”

  “No deals,but I will carry you.” The old Mercedes smile tried to bloom but it would be a long time before that came back, if ever. Mercedes didn’t need to get her strength back to deal with Caddi. Harold would hunt the bastard down, and he didn’t care who saw him. He’d just as soon shoot them as well. As Harold bent and slid his arms under Mercedes, her arms went round his neck and held on tight. Harold stood slowly but smoothly. Mercedesgasped as his arm tightened around her back, then rested her head on his shoulder with a little sigh.

  Harold carried Mercedes carefully upstairs, where Tessa waited by the bathroom door. Sharyn pulled Tessa aside and spoke quietly as Harold went in, then pulled the bathroom door shut behind him. He lowered Mercedes carefully into the chair, and turned his back so she could get stripped and into the water. The little noise behind him might have been an attempt at a laugh.

  “I told you ‘Arold. You can look any time, and anyway”—she sighed—”I can’t do it myself.” Mercedes attempted another little laugh. “Sorry, no buttons.”

  Harold sighed as well and turned back. “Damn, and I’d practiced.” If Mercedes wanted to deal with it this way, he’d go along. Mercedes bent forward so Harold could untie the jeans around her chest,giving a hiss of pain as the denim came free. A deep cut across her shoulder blade opened up again, explaining some of the blood. Harold hesitated, and once again Mercedes looked almost shy.

  “Will you take all my clothes off please, ‘Arold?” Harold wished he didn’t like the sound of that, or the memories of other times Mercedes had promised he could. The comparison raisedthat red rage deep inside, but he fought it down again, for now. The ragged shirt came off and when he saw the blood, bruising and semen under it, Harold wanted to kill some bastard right now, again.

  Mercedes stiffened a bit, sounding defensive now. “The first one was in me when I came round.” Harold carefully picked the battered young woman up again. He lowered her into the water, which immediately turned bloody. “The other two held me down.” Mercedes hissed as the water went into the cuts and abrasions. “I’d got a message, a problem.”

  “You needn’t tell me.” Because it had been bloody awful, and maybe she didn’t want anyone knowing the details.

  Mercedes passed Harold the sponge with a question in her eyes, so Harold took it and started to squeeze water over her. “Lada, Yugo and Truck, a new bloke. A big one. They came as an escort.” Dirt and bits of leaf and grass came out of her hair with the blood as Harold began to use a jug to sluice it. “Truck got me from behind, chloroform or something. Lada said they threw my clothes out of the car windows.” It camein a monotone and Harold let Mercedes get it out without interrupting, carefully sponging her arms and shoulders.

  “They were bragging because they’d been paid for having fun. Told me they were to keep me a few days, break me to my new job.” The first shampoo brought more red out of her hair and a hiss as some ran down over the other cuts. “The bastards kept hitting me. Why do men do that, punch women?” Harold could see the bruises where someone had punched her biceps and thighs repeatedly.

  It wasn’t a question Mercedes wanted an answer to just now, since her voice droned on. “I pretended to faint under Lada.” Harold carefully rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, and gently mopped her bruised face. “That’s the hardest thing I ever did, lying still while the bastard did what he wanted, but it worked. They let go.” That was almost a whisper but with a snarl in it, animation coming as Harold gently sluiced her back, going round the knife wound on her shoulder blade. “
When he started to get up I followed and grabbed the knife from his belt.” The next bit had real venom in it. “And cut his dick off!”

  Mercedes gave a little laugh that touched on hysterical. “The stupid prats froze just long enough. Maybe Lada screaming and spraying blood all over did it.” The curl of her lips as Harold sponged down the front of her throat, and started on her arms again, was a mixture of grimace and snarl. “I rolled over until I could reach Truck with a swing, then hamstrung him. Yugo came at me but I grabbed his leg and pulled him down for a roll in the grass. I rolled onto his knife arm and he got an edge in my back.”

  Harold had started on the other arm and hand now, getting some of the dirt and blood from the cuts and abrasions and under her broken nails. “He got my point, and then I got his balls. I caught Truck crawling away. I asked himand Yugo some questions while Lada bled out.” Mercedes sighed, a deep, racking one. “Then I came to find you, ‘Arold, because Caddi will say I broke the Deal.”

  “It was rape!” Harold couldn’t believe itbut then realised yes, Mercedes was right. Caddi wouldn’t care about Mercedes being willing or not, he’d want his turn.

  “But Caddi will say I should have stopped them, because there were only three. I must have been willing, some such shit. Bugatti paid them but Caddi must have told him to.” Mercedes laid back and let the water up around her. The shadow of the old Mercedes smile showed for a moment “I was almost ready. I wanted to be so clean and pretty for you, ‘Arold. Now I’m all dirty and used and ruined again.”

  “Dirt washes off.” Mercedes’ eyes didn’t believe him. “You can dip a diamond in shit, but if you wash the shit off it’s still a diamond.” Harold tried to show that he meant it, but it wasn’t working. Maybe Mercedes wasn’t looking at his eyes, ormaybe Harold’s eyes wanted to kill Bug and Caddi, for starters.