by Craig Zerf
Gog had cleaned up, disposing of the bodies and ensuring no one knew that the girl had been in the camp. Simply another couple of thin skins that had disappeared
Aapep stared out of the window. Outside the main gates three boys played. One, a little larger than the other two, appeared to be in charge. His face was covered in gray river mud and he held a wooden broadsword and a round wooden buckler. It was obvious, even to Aapep who had no real imagination, that the boy was playing the role of a battle Orc. The two other boys were probably thin skin vagabonds or thieves or such. The three of them raged back and forth killing each other over and over again. And then laughing and patting each other on the backs and starting again.
Aapep pulsed a message to Gog.
‘Come.’
Within minutes the sergeant was knocking at the door.
‘Enter,’ commanded Aapep.
The battle Orc shambled in.
Aapep beckoned him over to the window and pointed at the three boys.
‘The one with mud on his face. Bring him to me.’
Gog nodded and left, of to do his master’s bidding.
Aapep sat down on his sofa and sipped at a sherbet. A human drink made from apple, ginger, orange and lemon. He concentrated on the glass and drew some of the heat from it. Condensation rolled down the sides. Delicious.
Outside the main gate, sergeant Gog shambled up to the three young boys at play. They immediately stopped and stood in a line. The bigger one threw a clumsy salute.
‘Greetings, sergeant Gog,’ he said. ‘Tommy Tiernan, sir. Reporting for duty.’
Gog shook his head. ‘No, human. You don’t salute me. I am a sergeant. I work for a living. You salute officers. Also, just sergeant. Never, sir. Get it?’
Tommy and his friends nodded enthusiastically.
‘Yes, sergeant,’ said Tommy. ‘How can we help you, sergeant?’
‘You must go,’ said Gog. ‘You are no longer allowed to conduct your battle exercises here. Leave now.’
Tommy’s face crumpled. ‘Aaaah! Please, sergeant.’
Gog shook his head.
‘No. Leave or you will be punished.’ He raised a massive right claw and the boys scampered off.
The sergeant turned around and trudged back to Aapep’s abode, knocked on the door and went in.
The Fair-Folk lord stared at him.
‘Where is the boy?’
‘Gone,’ answered Gog.
‘But I sent you to get him.’
Gog nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘So where is he, I ask again.’
‘Gone.’
‘Sergeant Gog. Are you deliberately disobeying an order?’
Gog, who had never actually come across the concept of disobedience before, had to think before he answered.
‘Yes, sir. I believe that I am.’
Aapep stood up, drew power in, and lashed out like a frustrated child. A bolt of physic energy flashed across the room and struck Gog in the chest, burning through his leather breastplate and scorching his skin.
‘Go and get the boy for me!’ Screamed Aapep.
Gog shook his head.
Aapep struck again. This time with more vigor. The bolt lashed across Gog’s face, ripping the flesh from its right side and exposing the bone. And, although the pain must have been immense, the Orc did not even flinch.
‘Why?’ Screamed Aapep. ‘Why?’
Again the Orc thought. Eventually he spoke.
‘Because he waved to me.’
‘And because of this you are prepared to die?’
Again, Gog’s thought process stumbled along unfamiliar pathways until he reached a conclusion.
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘He is a…’ The battle Orc paused for a while as his tongue tried to form an unfamiliar word. ‘Friend.’
The next blast of psychic fire tore the head from Gog’s shoulders and threw him out of the room.
Aapep screamed in frustration and then sank to his knees, overcome with humanlike feelings of anger that his alien mind was not psychologically geared to handle.
Chapter 23
G-Man lowered the binoculars.
‘Looks like six of them. Riding two to a horse. Three women, couple of kids and a man. No worries. Let them come. The more the merrier.’
The small cavalcade of three horses drew closer, meandering down the hill and to the front gate of the farm. At all times they were covered by at least two of G-Man’s men, rifles raised to shoulders.
They stopped twenty yards from G-Man and the adult male dismounted.
‘Greetings,’ he said. ‘My name is Nathaniel Hogan. United States Marine Corps. These are my compadres. It’s good to see human company. Could we bother you for some water? A place to bed down for the night?’
G-Man stared at Nathaniel for a while and then steeped forward, his face agrin, his hand held out.
The marine came forward to meet him and they shook hands.
‘Welcome,’ said G-Man. ‘Welcome to Harry’s Farm, a patch of paradise in a sea of desolation. Don’t mind the boys with the guns, tough times call for radical methods.’
Nathaniel nodded his agreement and gestured to Gramma Higgins, Tad and the girls. They dismounted and introduced themselves to G-Man who managed to control his surprise when he saw that, what he had thought to be a child, was actually a small, muscle-bound young adult male in his early twenties.
‘They call me G-Man,’ he said to all. ‘On account of that I look like G-Man from the video game, Half-Life.’
Nathaniel shrugged. ‘Don’t know it. Sorry.’
‘No worries. Come, follow me.’ G-Man set off into the encampment, four of his armed men walked with them. Nathaniel and his group followed, leading their horses.
‘So, where do you hail from?’
‘Here and there,’ answered Nathaniel. ‘I was posted at the American Embassy, London. Pulse hit. Came north. Met these people along the way.’
‘We’re a little more local stock,’ said G-Man. ‘Leeds mainly. After the world died we all got together, left the city and roamed about a bit until we found a place suitable. We came across this place. Harry’s Farm. Basically run by a bunch of hippies. Pathetic. You know the type, equal rights for all, pro gay, pro feminist, pro bloody everything. So, we took over. Provided a bit of well needed discipline and structure.’ G-Man glanced slyly across at Nathaniel, gauging his reaction.
The marine said nothing.
G-Man continued. ‘We’ve got a spare tent. ‘You’ll all have to share. The rules around here are very simple. Rule one, if I tell you what to do, you do it. Rule two, if one of my men tells you what to do, they speak with my voice, so, refer to rule one. Rule three, if you don’t like it then you are welcome to piss off. Unless I say that you can’t, then refer to rule one again. Any infractions of the rules will be dealt with harshly. Any questions?’
The marine shook his head. ‘You’re the boss. Simple. No problem.’
G-Man smiled. ‘Great. Here’s the tent. Tie your horses to the rail. Water buckets and hay are there for them. You got four cots; I’ll get another two sent up. Enjoy, we’ll speak later, soldier boy.’
Nathaniel nodded.
G-Man and his entourage left.
Adalyn and Janeka started talking at the same time.
‘What a horrible man,’ said Janeka.
‘Anti gay, anti equal rights, anti everything. A real piece of work,’ agreed Adalyn.
‘Dat a real bad man make his own Babylon here on da farm,’ said Gramma. ‘I think we spends da night and den we goes, quick as quick can be.’
‘I agree, Gramma’ said Tad. ‘Wouldn’t trust that smiley asshole further than I could throw him.’
‘So, Nathaniel,’ said Gramma. ‘What we gonna do?’
The marine threw his saddlebag onto a cot and then sat down.
‘Nothing.’
‘Why?’ Asked Tad. ‘You trust this slime-ball?’
Nathaniel looked at the little man, his face impassive.
But behind his green eyes a light crackled with fury. ‘Trust him? The asshole called me a soldier.’
‘So.’
‘I am a Marine. Nobody calls me army. We stay. We stay and we see what the hell is going on around here. But keep frosty, people. No outbursts, no antagonizing the local pops and no arguments. Stay under the wire, keep your mouths closed and your eyes open.’
There was a general nodding of agreement.
‘Right then,’ continued the marine. ‘Let’s split up and do a recce. Gramma, you take the girls and Tad and I will go our own way. Chat to whomever you can, but be subtle. See you all back here before sundown.’
They all left the tent, the girls headed right and Nathaniel and Tad broke left.
***
‘I’m not sure, G-Man,’ said Jonno. ‘I don’t like the marine. There’s something about him. Can’t quite put my finger on it.’
‘Naw,’ disagreed G-Man. ‘It’s just because he’s a Yankee Doodle Dandy. He’s just like everybody else, looking for a place to stay. Crapping themselves in the dark every night. We provide food, security and in return all we ask for is that they do as they are told.’
Jonno shook his head. ‘I dunno. These marines are hard asses. I heard that they don’t take crap from nobody.’
‘You want I should introduce him to Daisy, boss,’ rumbled Ratman as he picked up his sledgehammer.
‘No. Leave him alone. Trust me, I have a feeling that the American could turn out to be quite an asset. Watch, wait and see.’
***
Two more cots had been delivered to the tent and each person in the group sat on their own cot and partook of the evening meal. It was filling but basic. Meat gruel made from oats and lamb and spinach.
There was a day when someone like Milly might have complained if given a watery porridge with meat and greens in but, in the new world, it was considered by all to be a hearty meal.
In fact, Nathaniel was wondering how many picky eaters, children who were “allergic” to fish, skinny teenage girls “allergic” to gluten, had now buckled down and simply ate what they were given. He wondered how many had died from it. And how many had been miraculously cured when they discovered that they had never actually suffered from Coeliacs but rather from merely being spoiled self-absorbed assholes. He grinned to himself.
Gramma scraped her bowl with her spoon and then placed it on the floor next to her bed.
‘There be bad stuff going on here, marine, bad stuff. We got to speak to some of de girls, mainly youngsters but some teenagers. It seems like G-Man’s boys are given the pick of de girls whenever dey feel like it. In the beginning some of the men-folk they did complain. They were taken, nailed to the side of de barn and whipped. Now de girls go without a fight. Not willingly, but to prevent bloodshed. They’se good people. I think dat G-Man, he wasn’t too far wrong when he called them hippies. All dey want is love and to live and let live. It’s sad but, in this dark world of today, dat surely is a way to end up subjugated to some asshole like G-Man. Oh how dat be true.’
Nathaniel nodded. ‘Well said, Gramma, well said. Tad and I spoke to the outlaws. There’s about twenty of them. Lowlife scum. Not a professional amongst them. Petty thieves, job dodgers and benefit frauds. Tad and I could take them with both hands tied behind our backs and our shoelaces tied together. But there would be collateral damage. Stray bullets, wholesale slaughter. I’ve got to be a little subtler than I usually am. Subterfuge is called for. However, first things first. If any of the outlaws make any type of inappropriate move on you girls, you tell Tad or me. Then it be all, damn collateral damage and we’ll slaughter the assholes. You understand?’
The girls nodded.
‘Okay, Adalyn and Janeka, if anyone asks, say that you’re my girls and I don’t share. Right?’
Adalyn nodded but Janeka shook her head.
‘Not happy, Janeka?’ Asked Nathaniel.
‘I wanna say that I’m Tad’s girl,’ she said, and she stood up and went and sat next to the little man.
The marine grinned. ‘Fine, you’re Tad’s girl.’
Janeka smiled wide and Tad blushed crimson and stared at his feet.
‘Adalyn,’ continued Nathaniel with a grin. ‘You happy or do you want to be Tad’s girl as well?’
‘I be your girl,’ agreed Adalyn.
‘Whose girl am I?’ Asked Milly.
‘You’re my girl, sweetheart,’ said Nathaniel. ‘Everybody knows that.’
Milly ran over and gave the marine a kiss on the cheek. Then she went back to her bed, pulled her fur cloak over herself, and lay down.
‘I be no one’s girl,’ said Gramma. ‘But I can always live in hope dat one of those boys makes me an indecent proposal. Mm-hmm, I surely could show him a good time,’ she cackled and slapped her knee.
‘Gramma,’ chided Janeka.
‘Don’t you Gramma me, young lady,’ retorted the oldster. ‘Least I not be pushing some poor young muscle-bound oaf into being my boyfriend. You watch her, young Tad, she be a mighty forward little girl. Mighty forward.’
Tad smiled wryly but said nothing.
And then Nathaniel told them all, in husky whispers, the plan that he had formulated. After they had discussed it and gone over it a few times, it was dark.
They all crawled into their cots and went to sleep. Their bodies tied to the rising and the setting of the sun like Dark Age peasants.
Chapter 24
Nathaniel and Tad walked over to the main farmhouse and greeted the two armed guards at the door.
‘Hey,’ said the marine. ‘We need to see the boss. Is he in?’
‘Hold on,’ replied the one guard who turned and went inside. He returned a minute later. ‘Come in. Boss will see you.’
He led the way down the corridor and into a large eat-in kitchen. A wood burning Coleman stove stood in the one corner. Coffee simmered in a large pot on top. The aroma assailed Nathaniel’s nostrils like the smell of a beautiful woman and he stared at the pot with undisguised lust.
‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ greeted G-Man.
They both nodded.
‘Sit,’ continued the outlaw chief. ‘Coffee?’
‘I’d kill for coffee,’ grunted Nathaniel. ‘Black, please. No sugar.’
Tad shook his head. ‘None for me,’ he said. ‘Caffeine makes me go mental.’
G-Man poured a large mug for Nathaniel, placed it on the kitchen table.
‘Sit,’ he repeated. ‘And talk to me.’
The marine sipped at the coffee before he spoke.
‘On our way here,’ he started. ‘We came across an encampment. Maybe ten people, no more. Seemed to be all male. We came across them just before nightfall and we stayed hidden just in case they were inhospitable. They had made a camp by laagering a number of trucks in a circle, fire and livestock in the middle. Stream close by. Tad and I sneaked up and did a bit of a recce. What we saw was interesting but the two of us couldn’t take advantage of things. I have no idea how, or where, they came by them, but the group appeared to have at least two truckloads of fully automatic weapons. Cases of the new SA85 bullpup, L8A3 machine guns, grenades, claymore mines and tons of ammo. Looks like they might have ripped off a military column or base. They weren’t military themselves. Just simple lowlife retards that had lucked out.’
G-Man nodded. ‘Cool. So what?’
‘Well,’ continued Nathaniel. ‘What arms have you got here? A couple of bolt-action rifles, a few shotguns, a handgun or two? Imagine if every one of your boys had an assault rifle capable of firing over 750 rounds a minute. Machine guns with 100 round disintegrating belts of ammo. Hand grenades capable of blowing up whole buildings. Boss, you would be unstoppable. Why settle for being boss of Harry’s Farm? I know that you want to be more,’ said Nathaniel. ‘I can tell a leader when I see one. You could control the whole county. More, the whole northwest of the UK. Why be boss when you could be king?’
G-Man leaned back in his chair and attempted to look more li
ke the sort of man who desired a kingdom as opposed to the lightweight petty criminal that he was.
‘We don’t know how to use those weapons,’ he argued.
‘But I do,’ answered Nathaniel. ‘That’s my thing. I could train your boys up in a couple of weeks and then we would be unstoppable.’
‘What’s in it for you?’ Asked G-Man.
‘I want to be part of the inner circle,’ answered the marine. ‘Both Tad and I. We can help, we’re both good with weapons and Tad has particularly good knife skills. We can oversee any new troops that you take on. We can help.’
G-Man steepled his hands in front of his face and thought for a while.
Then he nodded.
‘I like it. So, how do we get these weapons?’
‘Easy,’ said Nathaniel. ‘Tad and I take ten of your boys out late afternoon. We arrive at the camp just after dark. Sneak in, kill them and bring the weapons back. No worries.’
‘That simple, you say?’ Asked G-Man.
‘Yep. They won’t be expecting anything, they’re amateurs. In, out, easy.’
‘Okay,’ agreed G-Man. But you take Jonno with you. I want someone that I know in charge, so you take your orders from him. And remember the rules? Jonno speaks with my voice, so you obey. Right?’
Both Tad and Nathaniel nodded. ‘Right.’
***
They set out on horses that late afternoon. Nathaniel, Tad, Jonno and nine other men. Jonno carried a rifle, the others had shotguns. Nathaniel and Tad were armed only with their bladed weapons. Tad with his knives and the marine with his axe and two new razor-sharp knives that Tad had given him.
They ambled along in a column of two, Nathaniel taking a slightly longer route than necessary, as he wanted to make sure that they arrived when it was dark so that it was not immediately apparent that the camp was empty.