‘I’m going home,’ Gemma said. She put the important items from her handbag into the already-full grocery bag and looked at him. ‘What’re you going to do?’
He shrugged his skinny shoulders. ‘I don’t know. Go home, I guess. If I can get there.’
‘Where do you live?’ Gemma realised she didn’t actually know much about him. She’d never had a reason to.
‘Manukau – The Gardens. What about you?’
‘Way past that. About sixty k’s.’ Gemma opened the bag and pulled out a pair of clothing items. One was a pair of grey cargo pants, the other a black geothermal T-shirt. As smart as her work outfit of black trousers and blue and white striped shirt with a ruffled front was, they were impractical for the current situation.
Alex was looking at her curiously.
‘I need to get changed,’ she told him.
He flushed and looked awkward. ‘Sorry…ahh…right.’ He moved away and Gemma kicked off her sneakers.
Using the car as cover she worked as fast as she could, conscious that she was half-clad only metres away from a bunch of co-workers. Mind you, being seen in her sensible cotton Bendon underwear was probably the least of her concerns right now. She dropped her pants and pulled on the cargo pants, then swapped her shirt for the T. She replaced her work socks with a pair of hiking socks from the bag, and put the work ones in the bag as spares. She re-laced her sneakers then folded her work clothes carefully and put them in the boot of the car.
Closing the boot, she saw Alex coming back, cautiously checking that she was fully clothed. He was like a lost sheep. This time he was carrying a small day pack.
‘Do you mind if I come with you?’ he asked tentatively. ‘I mean, we’re both going in the same direction.’
Gemma nodded, knowing it made sense. She didn’t know Alex but anticipated that today was going to be a long day, and the company would be good. Safety in numbers.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’
Eleven
I hurried into the big orange and black Mitre 10 Mega.
The first thing I noticed when I got inside was that the lights were about half strength. The second thing was that people were looking confused, looking around as if waiting for something to happen. I was actually surprised they were at work at all.
I grabbed a trolley and went straight to the camping section, just to the left of the entrance. I knew what I wanted and I wasn’t waiting.
There was a group of staff and customers crowded around the Customer Service desk to my left and I ignored them. I could hear the crackle of a radio turned up high and the odd word, but I definitely got the tone.
Urgent and sombre. Typical politicians.
I didn’t care what the Prime Minister was going to say so there was no point in standing around to listen. I bet they had their contingencies in place, and fuck the taxpayers.
Taking advantage of the lack of competition right now – I knew for damn sure that it wouldn’t last long – I grabbed more butane canisters, a couple of camping stoves and lanterns, cooking sets, candles, torches and batteries. The shelves had definitely been picked over but there was still enough to keep me happy for now. It never ceased to amaze me how slow people were to react to changing circumstances, even in a crisis.
I turned and hurried to the checkout, finding that all the checkout operators were huddled together listening to a radio as well. They didn’t even look up at me.
‘Excuse me,’ I said loudly, and one of the staff glanced round at me. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. ‘Can I get some help here?’
She was in shock and just stared at me.
‘Now?’ I didn’t want to be overbearing but I also didn’t have time to waste. This was supposed to be just a quick run back into Pukekohe to get the things I hadn’t got earlier.
The sales attendant was a young girl, probably a student or even in her first job, and what she had just heard had clearly knocked her for a six.
‘The Prime Minister,’ she said, gesturing vaguely towards the radio behind her. ‘I can’t believe it…’
I felt like saying that I couldn’t believe she was the Prime Minister either; I never voted for her. Maybe if the Prime Minister had been stronger, maybe if the Government had made better decisions, maybe if the crisis down south had been better managed, maybe we wouldn’t be in this position today.
So many maybes and none of them mattered to me right now. Not one single bit. All that mattered was getting my family together and keeping them safe.
And God help anyone that got in my way.
The girl looked at her register screen and frowned. ‘It’s not working,’ she said. She hit some keys and checked the register behind her for the next aisle.
‘Probably because the power’s low,’ I said as patiently as I could. ‘I’ve got cash.’
‘I still need to scan the items though,’ she said, her tone confused and vague. This was not a scenario they got taught at checkout school.
‘Give me a pen and paper,’ I said. ‘I’ll write down what I’ve got here and tally it up.’
She responded to my commands and while she did so, I became aware that everyone previously huddled over the radios was starting to move. The broadcast was over. People were talking, some hushed and some agitated. A manager of some sort appeared on the scene and tried to herd the staff together.
I took the pen and paper from the girl, who told me she better go and listen to what the manager had to say. I let her go while I scribbled out my shopping list. I had it tallied up by the time she came back. I handed her the list and the pen, followed by a sheaf of cash. It was over by a few dollars but that was okay.
The girl took it and looked at it blankly. ‘I don’t know what to do with this,’ she said.
I ignored the comment. ‘Have you got the key for the gas bottles outside?’
‘No, Shona does.’ She waved at another woman over at the Customer Service desk. ‘Shona?’
‘Thank you,’ I said, checking the girl’s name badge, ‘Eliza.’
I steered my trolley out the door, seeing Shona behind me. She was an older lady and bustled along like older ladies do. She was shaking her head as she dug out a set of keys.
‘Isn’t it terrible,’ she said, ‘just terrible news.’
‘You’re not wrong there,’ I agreed. We stopped beside the large steel wire enclosure that housed the LPG bottles. It was festooned with hazard warning signs.
‘Just the one, love?’ she asked.
I checked the remaining cash in my pocket. ‘How much are they?’
‘A few cents under seventy each,’ she said.
‘I’ll take five,’ I said. I didn’t want to use all my cash up just yet, even though we had a stash back at home.
Her eyes widened.
‘I’ll just bring the trailer down,’ I said, not giving her a chance to protest.
By the time I’d thrown my latest purchases in the back of the truck and pulled up beside the enclosure, Shona had been joined by her manager. Unlike her and Eliza, he was a man who seemed to realise the position we all now found ourselves in.
‘Did you want five?’ he said.
I nodded.
‘Sorry sir, I have to restrict the sales and we can only give you one.’ He looked genuinely regretful, but he was also standing firm. ‘You’ve obviously heard the news, so you know the situation.’
‘I do,’ I agreed. ‘And that’s exactly why I asked for five.’ I held up my notes. ‘I’ve got the cash to pay for it, and when I made the arrangement with your lady here, there was no restriction in place.’
‘I understand that sir, but things have changed. Everybody is going to be wanting these, everyone will need to be able to cook and use heating and everything, so I have to be fair and share the sales around.’
He was about my size and strong looking, a bit older than me. His name tag said Dave. I got the impression that arguing with him would solve nothing. I could try and force the issue physi
cally, but he was only trying to be fair. And I wasn’t a thug.
I nodded my acceptance of his decision and handed over seventy bucks. I was picking up my 9kg cylinder when two more guys pulled up at the kerb in a hurry. They were rough looking dudes in a shitty grey Mazda sedan.
‘Don’t lock it, miss,’ one called out, rolling out of the passenger door.
I carried my cylinder over to the truck and loaded it into the back. No need to use the trailer now since they were being rationed.
I heard arguing behind me and glanced over. The two guys were fired up, arguing with Dave while Shona stood by helplessly. No doubt they didn’t like his restrictions either, but unlike me, they lacked self-control.
I decided to ignore it. I needed to get home and besides, I was no longer a cop. This wasn’t my problem. I saw Dave take a sudden step back as he was pushed by one guy while the other grabbed a couple of bottles and moved towards the car. I opened the driver’s door of the truck.
‘I’ll fuckin’ smash you, cunt,’ one of the guys was yelling, and through the truck windows I saw Dave backpedalling. A few other customers were milling about, but nobody intervened. These were rough dudes and they were intimidating.
One was swinging at Dave now, and the other was tossing LPG cylinders into the back of their car.
Fuck it. Enough was enough.
The aluminium baseball bat was scarred and battered, but strong and it swung well. So well that my first swing took out the assailant’s right leg directly behind the knee. He howled and clutched at it, forgetting all about Dave for now. He turned towards me, bellowing something I couldn’t understand and hopping on his good leg.
‘Get the fuck outta here,’ I told him, pointing the bat at him so he knew I meant business.
He yelled again and I heard running feet behind me. I ducked, side stepped, and swung the bat around. The other guy had grabbed a length of wood from the car and was coming at me with it, ready to take my head off. By the time I turned he was almost on me and the timber was arcing through the air at head height. If it had connected it would probably have killed me.
The baseball bat took him across the midsection, hard enough to break his stride. I straightened up, stepped around behind him, and belted him full noise across the side of his right knee. The knee folded in like a puppet with cut strings and he went down screaming, dropping his piece of wood. The other guy was trying to hobble towards me, still mouthing off and dry spit flying from his lips.
Dave was standing off to the side with Shona, his nose bloodied. The customers had all backed away or gone for their cars.
‘You two,’ I called to them, ‘get those cylinders out of their car.’
Dave and Shona moved to do so, and the hobbling guy eyeballed me.
‘I know who you are, arsehole,’ he panted, ‘you’re a fuckin’ pigshit. Yeah I know you.’
His face seemed vaguely familiar to me, and it took a moment to click. ‘I know you too, you’re one of the Roimata pieces of shit.’
I couldn’t recall his first name, but his family were Black Power from Pukekohe North – the area known as the Reservation, or Rezzo. I’d had dealings with them before.
‘You fuckin’ know us, cunt,’ he said, doing his best to sneer, ‘you fuckin’ know you fucked up. I’m gonna get you, you fuckin’ pigshit cunt.’
‘No,’ I said evenly, ‘what you’re gunna do is get in your piece of shit car. Then you’re gunna get the fuck outta here before you get a real lesson in manners.’ I pointed at his mate who was sitting up and whimpering. ‘And take your girlfriend with you.’
Dave and Shona had finished recovering the stolen gas cylinders by now, and I watched as Roimata and his mate dragged themselves to the car. Roimata got in the driver’s seat while his mate manoeuvred himself onto the back seat. I moved around the car to keep an eye on Roimata and make sure he didn’t pull any other weapons.
‘Next time I see you, motherfucker,’ he said, ‘I’m gonna kill you.’
‘There better not be a next time,’ I told him. ‘I’m not a cop anymore.’
‘Got no powers then,’ he said.
‘Got no limits either.’
He cocked a finger pistol at me and smirked as he fired it. His smile disappeared when I swung the bat again and cracked his window. He pulled back, cursing at me.
‘Get moving,’ I told him.
He drove off in a cloud of abuse and exhaust fumes, and I stepped back onto the kerb. Dave and Shona looked more shocked than before. I sucked in a breath and felt my pulse start to slow again. My hands were trembling with adrenaline.
‘Thank you,’ Dave said, his voice quavering. ‘I thought they were going to kill me.’
‘I thought you were going to kill them,’ Shona blurted out.
‘Guys like that only understand one thing,’ I said. ‘They’re just bullies. You might want to get some security down here though. This is just the start of it.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t think…’ Shona started to say, but Dave was nodding.
‘I think you’re right,’ he said. ‘We’ve only just had the announcement. If this is how idiots are acting now, I hate to think how it’s going to change.’ He dabbed at his nose and gestured towards the enclosure. ‘Here, grab a couple of bottles as a thank you.’
‘I won’t say no.’
It seemed like a reasonable compromise and besides, I hadn’t finished here yet. The Roimata’s were bad people and I knew it wouldn’t take long for the jungle drums to start beating. I could well end up with a posse of fired up gangsters rolling down here to get their revenge.
Thugs like that didn’t like being stood up to, and they were very brave in a pack. I didn’t like backing down either, but I also had a family to worry about. No point getting my head stoved in, or worse, just to save my ego. Luckily there was no way they could know where I lived.
As I put the cylinders away, I noticed a guy standing at the door of the outdoors supplies shop in the next block of the Supa Centre. He stayed in the shadows of the doorway but I was pretty sure he had a weapon at his side. He saw me looking and stepped back inside.
I sensed Dave approaching as I closed the canopy hatch. His nose had stopped bleeding but he was agitated.
‘Thanks again,’ he said, putting his hand out. We shook. ‘I don’t know what those guys would’ve done if you hadn’t been here.’
I nodded. ‘They would’ve taken all your gas bottles and beaten the shit out of you,’ I told him honestly. ‘Then they would’ve come back and robbed the store because it was easy the first time. They still might.’ I reconsidered that. ‘In fact, they probably will.’
He nodded his agreement. ‘I think you’re right. We’re gunna have to do something about that.’
‘Don’t rely on the cops,’ I said, ‘they’ll be over-stretched already. You’ll need to take responsibility for it yourselves, but remember that the law still applies, if that makes sense.’
‘Not really. You just beat two guys with a baseball bat. I’d say one of them will probably never walk properly again.’
‘He can drag himself by his lips for all I care,’ I said, and Dave visibly flinched. ‘I responded to their violence with only enough force to overcome them. I couldn’t have taken them on safely just hand to hand, and I didn’t shoot them.’ I shrugged. ‘They set the play and they lost.’
Dave nodded again, and I could see that he got it. ‘Fair enough. So you’re a cop?’
‘Was.’ I secured the locking handles on the canopy. ‘Anyway Dave, I need to grab some timber.’
‘I’ll meet you down there,’ he said. ‘If you can give me some advice on securing this place then I’m sure we can work out a good deal.’
I nodded my head towards the outdoors store. ‘First place I’d start is over there. They have a bunch of guys working there, bound to be a couple who are happy to scratch your back if you scratch theirs. Plus, if those turkeys come back they’re likely to be armed, and that shop’s full of guns.’
Dave’s mouth turned down. ‘I don’t know if we can put armed guards at the doors, you know? That might be a bit extreme.’
I shrugged. ‘Up to you mate, I don’t run the show. You probably couldn’t yesterday. But yesterday was a different day; I don’t think the same rules apply anymore.’
He frowned.
‘Remember the LA riots in ’92? After the Rodney King thing?’
Dave nodded quizzically.
‘Ever see the footage of the riots where a bunch of Korean shopkeepers guarded their stores? All of them were armed and ready to respond.’ I could see the realisation dawning in his face. ‘None of them got robbed. There’s always an easier target than the place with an armed guard.’
Dave nodded slowly, chewing it over.
‘Up to you,’ I said. ‘But I choose not to be a victim.’
Twelve
By the time they reached Ngatea the density of traffic had picked up.
The state highway ran through the small town centre, which consisted of half a klick of shops on either side with a river at the east end and open countryside at the west. The Hauraki Plains spread out in all directions, flat and windy even on a day with no wind.
Rob slid into the kerb near a café and cut the engine. The self-serve gas station across the road had a long snake of cars winding into it and the pumps were working, so he guessed the power was still on here. For now, at least.
Sandy popped into the café, their normal stop on the way to Gemma and Mark’s. She was back in a few minutes with coffees, sandwiches and a mini quiche each. They joined a flow of traffic heading northwest and ate on the go.
‘Okay, what’s this?’ Rob braked as the cars ahead slowed.
Sitting high in the motorhome he could see over the top of most of the cars. Up ahead were flashing red and blue lights. There were no cars coming the other way.
‘Must be a crash,’ Sandy mused. She crumpled her sandwich bag and checked her phone again. ‘Ooh, I’ve got a signal.’
It was only one bar but enough to make a connection, and as they sat idling the phone started pinging with incoming messages. A follow up from Mark, suggesting they bring the bus. One from Gemma confirming she had got Mark’s message and was on the way. Sandy’s brother in Dunedin, checking they were okay. A couple of friends checking in. A reminder from the dentist for Rob’s appointment the next day.
Early Warning (Book 1): Martial Law Page 5