by RR Haywood
As each unit was taken over they were knocked through with makeshift doors holed into the adjoining walls. Each section was used for a specific purpose. The nursery where the baby plants were covered by plastic covers and protected during their infancy. The second growth stage where the plants stood a few inches high. The third growth stage of sturdy but immature plants. Through to the final growth of giant bushy plants, ripe with sticky buds and each one standing six feet in height. A forest of Marijuana, a wooded copse of cannabis leaf, high heat and humidity and the plants were cared for with the same attention as the average tropical garden centre.
The drying area where the plants were cropped and left in a strictly controlled dry environment. The weighing and bagging section where the plants were cut down and bagged into their sale bags, bought in bulk from the internet and delivered to an address on the estate. The Bossman was shrewd and maintained a kindly uncle type figure to the youths. Everyone on this and the surrounding estates owed him in one way or another. Either on tick for weed they had taken but not paid for, or on money loaned out by him. When re-payment became too hard they simply started work for the Bossman. Dealing in a set area or holding large amounts of pre-wrapped cannabis ready to be collected and dealt. This way they took the risk and no one ever snitched on the Bossman. Fear of the repercussion, of being alienated and seriously hurt and more because of the constant supply of drugs they relied on.
Nearly every youth ended up running directly for the Bossman, he knew they would easily outrun the police and the penalties would be far less for a juvenile than for an adult and in return they were well rewarded. Sell more, get more. Sell a lot and get a lot. Sales prospered and despite the recession and lack of career options the youths flourished under the Bossman’s watchful gaze.
Always ready to listen to their problems and enforcing discipline through the bigger lads he rarely had to use force himself, but his reputation was well known enough to ensure he was never crossed.
As the world fell, the Bossman moved quickly. Gathering his youths and moving them into the industrial units he quickly set about fortifying the land. Stealing flatbed Lorries and raiding garden centres and builder’s merchants he erected high fencing covered with coils of razor wire. The Bossman already had a small arsenal of weapons, mainly shotguns and rifles but a few pistols too, and his arsenal was quickly enhanced as he led a well-armed raid on the local gunsmiths, looting the place empty. By late afternoon on the second day of the event, the Bossman had used the newly gained weapons and the flatbed Lorries to raid the local shops and supermarket. Stripping the shelves and stock rooms bare, stockpiling everything from tinned goods to clothing in the many cupboards and store rooms of the compound. Now, nine days into the event and the compound was the safest and best stocked place for miles.
Knowing the power supply would end soon, he set about securing solar panels and wiring, setting the panels on the roofs of the units and running the cables down to feed the lights that fed the plants. The plants that he still used as payment for the youths sent out to rid the immediate area of the dirty infected. House by house, street by street, section by section the youths swept through, killing everything that got in their way. At night they hunkered down and prepared to defend their territory but by day they advanced and slowly gained the streets.
As reports of survivors drifted back to the Bossman he realised there was an avenue of earning to be tapped into. His crews were taking the risk in dealing with the dirty infected and that meant everyone was safer. If they wanted to live in his area they had to pay so the Bossman introduced the Street Security Taxing Operation and got Maddox to brief the crews to only take half initially and only to take it all if it was obvious the survivor would refuse to pay or if they tried to attack the crews.
Not wanting to take the constant risk of being out on the street himself, the Bossman promoted Maddox as his number two in overall charge. Then in turn Maddox established crews working in set areas. Each crew had a crew chief and that crew chief could run their crew as he or she saw fit.
Eight crews each with between ten to a dozen youths and the compound was full, but the method worked better than he ever expected with each crew becoming a tight unit.
Food and water was plentiful, and these youths had already survived years of going without so they didn’t need much. And by allowing them to get stoned every night meant they were mostly peaceful, apart from the few cases of acute paranoia that caused fights. Quickly dealt with by the crew chiefs and a punishment decided by Maddox. The crews worked well alongside each other and were quick to back each other up, moving between areas and sections as the need arose.
Some of the adults that survived the carnage sweeping through the close knit streets tried to barter their way into the compound. Some, younger and prettier women were taken in on the basis they would tend to the plants, feed the youths and keep the compound clean. The others were sent away. If they refused they were removed. If they resisted they were killed.
It was brutal but it worked.
Maddox led his and Rykers crew back through the estate towards the compound. Listening with interest as the boys and girls talked about the music they were going to listen to during the party tonight. Maddox had spoken with the Bossman in his office, suggesting they hold a weekend party to give the youths a chance to blow of some steam. The Bossman readily agreed, telling Maddox he could sort it out as he saw fit but telling him to keep a few of the bigger lads sober and clear headed to act as bouncers in case of problems.
It was also Maddox that decided who was to provide security within the compound each day. At first he selected the bigger lads himself but then he put the job down to the crew chiefs to nominate three from each crew to stay back each day. Those youths were armed with shotguns and given easy sentry jobs on the walls, fences and main gate. A few more were sent out to stand sentry on the junctions of the road leading into the compound. Short wave radios sourced from a local electrical outlet were used as a way of keeping constant contact. The sentry jobs inside the compound were seen as a cushy number and gave the youths a chance to look cool and hard with guns. The sentry roles out on the junctions were hated as the youths were left isolated and under strict orders not to piss about or go anywhere.
Despite the strange set up, some rules were enforced with instant punishment if breached. Racism was outlawed and faced severe consequences if used by any youth, no matter what the circumstance. The strong ethnic mix of the youths meant there was no predominant race in higher numbers. Religion was as outlawed as Racism and despite many of the youths coming from various religious backgrounds they were told they could worship in their heads but not to anyone else. Sexist attitudes were gone with nearly as many girls being crew chiefs as boys. One of the crews, headed by Sierra, consisted solely of girls and had one of the highest kill rates of the dirty infected.
Maddox had worked with all the crews and made sure he got on with all of them. Everyone had respect for Maddox. He was fair and easy going; ready to teach the younger kids but renowned for his hard streak and had a reputation for having never been beaten in a street fight. Well-developed for his age, the Afro-Caribbean lad was stacked with muscle on his lean frame, hours spent in the prison gym, enhanced by high protein and surprisingly, he never smoked weed or took pills. He was happy to deal it and made good money working for the Bossman, introducing good contacts and steadily working his way up the chain of command even before the event happened.
Upstarts like Ryker were dealt with quickly and Maddox, like any good manager, was quick to spot dissenters and trouble makers. Taking them aside and addressing the offending behaviour, preventing the issues from developing. Ryker would be watched from now on. As a crew chief he was given extra weed and more food, but the last day or so he’d been coming back with more tax than was right. Telling Maddox that the residents were refusing to pay up so they had to be dealt with and killed. Maddox suspected Ryker was killing them out of fun, which went against what they were
trying to achieve. Knowing that a family of survivors would keep paying up with whatever they sourced and foraged themselves would be a better future prospect than just taking everything they had now. A few kills here and there helped spread the word and made the others take notice, but too many would see the residents left on the estates trying to flee and run away.
Today though, Maddox could see they didn’t have any choice. He had tagged along with Rykers crew himself, to see how they operated. The big bald man had to be dealt with though, he was the type that would always cause problems for the crews so it was better he was sorted now.
Maddox was irritated that Ryker wasn’t given a chance to show his bartering skills though as he wanted to see how Ryker would deal with a family of survivors willing to pay
Nearing the compound, Maddox, out front and watching intently, looked round for the sentry that should be on this junction. The chair and table dragged out onto the street for the sentry to use was empty. Frowning, Maddox held the others up and started walking over to the empty chair as a youth ran out of the nearest building doing the zipper up on his baggy jeans, shotgun wedged under his arm.
‘Ah fuck Maddox…’ the youth said in a panicking voice, ‘I needed a piss.’ The fear was heightened by Maddox remaining silent as he strode quickly at the lad and stopped inches from his nose. The lad cowered back, clearly terrified and grimacing from the expected punch. Maddox held his hard gaze for long seconds before turning to face the gathered crew watching with unsuppressed glee at the prospect of a beating.
‘Go on,’ Maddox told them bluntly. They did as ordered and moved off down the street towards the compound, laughing and looking back at Maddox towering over the child.
‘Zayden yeah?’ Maddox asked not needing the confirmation. He knew every youth in the compound, knew who their families were, knew what background they had and who they were mates with. Knowledge was power. Power got you off the street.
‘You’re with Darius’s crew,’ statement not a question but the terrified youth nodded back anyway.
‘You need a piss Zayden, you piss here. If you gotta take a dump, you shit here…you get me?’
‘Yeah Maddox,’ Zayden whimpered full of remorse and fear.
‘Don’t be leavin’ your post again, what if the dirty infected got past here? What then Zayden? You’d get fucked over is what.’
‘I know,’ Zayden nodded quickly, fumbling to bring his shotgun from under his arm but not having the room to swing it out with Maddox standing so close, and not daring to brush the gun against Maddox either, so he held it clumsily between his arm and his free hand stretched over.
‘Darius will sort you out,’ Maddox sighed and saw the relief rise Zayden’s eyes as he realised a beating wouldn’t be happening. Maddox used violence as a tool and despite what many thought, he did not get the sadistic pleasure most of them got from unabated violence. He grew up hard and with a good skill at fighting, learning to think coldly and not allowing his temper to draw him into making mistakes. Knowing that with every fight, there was a winner and always a loser.
‘Stay on your post,’ Maddox added before walking off and leaving the youth breathing a long sigh. ‘Also,’ Maddox turned to smile at Zayden, ‘we got the party tonight innit, and I see that Lauren givin’ you the eye,’ Maddox laughed, his features changing dramatically as he flashed his bright white teeth, ‘don’t be fuckin’ up and missin’ the chance to get it on wiv her eh bruv?’
‘No…I swear down Maddox…’ Zayden beamed back almost floating off the floor with the thought that Maddox had seen him and Lauren smiling at each other for the past couple of days.
‘And make sure you bag it up,’ Maddox pulled a cardboard box of condoms from his pocket, launching them at Zayden as he walked off grinning. Maddox took a few steps, left it a few more seconds and quickly glanced round. Zayden was stood firm and upright on the junction with the shotgun clasped between his skinny arms. Giving Zayden a beating would have kept him alert through fear, but ruling through fear alone brought issues. Issues him and the Bossman didn’t need. Instead he took the lads fear and made it positive instead. Letting him know that Lauren fancied him was a finishing touch that put the kid on cloud nine and Maddox knew he’d stand there alert and watchful for the rest of the day.
Striding with confidence Maddox thought ahead to the many tasks that needed sorting. Prioritising them in his mind as he approached the high solid metal gates topped with coils of razor wire. Already opened up for Ryker and his crew to enter, the youth allocated the gate guard role for the day waited as Maddox walked in.
‘Alright Maddox,’ the youth nodded, his sweating face peering out from underneath his hood.
‘You’s sweatin’ bruv,’ Maddox stared at the lad and glanced round to see if the boy had thought to drink during the hot day. ‘Where’s your bottle Liam?’
‘Bottle?’ Liam asked in a surly tone then instantly regretted it on getting a glare from Maddox.
‘I told you to make sure you had water, where’s your bottle?’
‘Don’t like water Maddox,’ Liam answered.
‘What did I say happens when you don’t drink?’
‘You said I’d get de-hydrolated.’
‘De-hydrated,’ Maddox corrected him, ‘you get de-hydrated. Your piss stinks and your cock will shrivel up. D’you want your cock to shrivel up?’
‘That’s fuckin’ gross,’ Liam spat.
‘Then drink some water innit.’ Maddox helped him pull the gate closed and told him to go fetch two bottles from the storeroom while he took watch. Liam handed him the shotgun before running off through the compound. Staring round him Maddox took in the view. The long low rise units stretched off into the distance, open ground all around a mixture of concrete and grass. The Bossman had secured a good area. The high fencing stretched round one side with natural high walls bordering the other. On this side there was the barest signs of living. A few chairs, sofa’s and odd furniture scattered about for use of the sentry guards. A wooden shed literally picked up and carried in from a nearby garden served as a sentry hut as the youths rotated on the patrol patterns set by Maddox. Staring at the land Maddox thought ahead to how he would get the concrete ripped up and seeds planted for food, sustaining their stocks and ensuring survival after the easy months of summer have passed.
To his eye there was a future here, the nearby houses could be converted and taken over, the boundary fence extended and more accommodation gained. Watching Liam come jogging back with two full bottles of water Maddox thought of how they’d need a clean water supply once the bottles were gone and if the taps ran dry. The plants consumed huge amounts of water every day and that would need to be sustained too.
Liam handed him the bottle and stood there, unsure of himself as Maddox stared back expectantly.
‘Drink,’ Maddox said the word simply and watched as Liam sulkily screwed the top off and started glugging the clear liquid down. Within the first few gulps Liam realised how thirsty he was and how refreshing the water felt in his parched mouth. Greedily slurping it down, some of the water splashing from the bottle from his chin and down the front of his hoody. Leaning his head back to upend the bottle, Liam drank the contents down in one go, giving a gasp and then a big belch as he pulled the now empty bottle away.
‘Alright?’ Maddox asked with humour
‘Yeah it’s good innit,’ Liam answered with a grin that made him look like the young boy he really way.
‘You don’t have to wear that all day,’ Maddox said, pointing at the dark top worn by Liam. The boy looked pale and sickly. Too much weed, too many late nights and not enough decent food and this was another problem faced by Maddox. The kids had a certain amount of freedom within the compound as long as they followed the rules. Outside they had their sections to cover but smoking cannabis all evening, eating crap munchies and drinking alcohol would waste them away. Maddox knew they had to sustain their energy in order to survive, and he needed them to survive so they all surv
ived.
‘I’ll be back in an hour,’ Maddox handed him the second bottle of water, ‘make sure that one is drunk too, you get me?’
‘Yeah sweet,’ Liam nodded already feeling better for the liquid purging through his system. Walking off, Maddox headed across the concrete, squinting his eyes against the glare of the sun he crossed the end of the first unit, glancing in through the wide metal double doors slid back to reveal the occupants inside. The first unit had been hastily converted into a day room with sofas, easy chairs, tables and rugs laid out. The young women taken in to run the compound worked from the day room, running further into the unit to tend the plants and controlling the stores held behind locked doors. On seeing Maddox cross the doors the few women inside the unit, sheltering from the heat of the plantations and the heat from outside waved and smiled.
Nodding back Maddox walked across the doors and stopped at the corner, facing the wide grounds at the back of the buildings. Big canvas tents taken from the looted shops covered most of the ground. At first they had been stuck up in any old fashion, with no thought given to layout. As the crews were decided, Maddox re-designed the layout so each crew chief had their own tent with the rest of the crew split into smaller ones. Each crew had a large day tent where they could meet, chill out or do what they wanted when not on duty.
Strangely, after years of rejecting anything to do with home or family, the youths took to the system with eagerness. The crews worked themselves out, making minor adjustments here and there, keeping the walkway lanes clear and making sure there was a clear and distinct gap between each section.
There was still plenty of open land here, Maddox thought as his eyes swept across the grounds, a huge open bonfire was lit everynight, known as the pit and it gave the youths somewhere to gather round and crash out smoking joints.