by Vance Huxley
Liz was still very cheerful when they arrived back, and actually told Harry why. “I’ve been worried sick because nobody would actually do anything. Now you’ve arrived and suddenly we’re getting organised.”
“Not really. This is because some yob broke Mr Baumber’s window.”
“Not really. After all they nearly broke into the garage before you came. But one or two of us like the idea of the Army, a soldier boy, on hand. We’d been discussing your idea of boarding up but only Karen was up for it.” Liz sniggered. “Even now we’ll probably have to cut a hole so Mrs Burren-Croft can let her Fluff in and out.”
Harry had to ask. “Fluff?”
“A bloody great hairy cat with a name as long as it is, so we all call it Fluff. Her objection is that Fluff can’t get out the window to do dirties. Hang on, I’ll get the garage door.”
An additional dozen men and women were perfectly happy to help saw, hammer and screw plywood into place though it was decidedly dusky by the time they’d finished. Fluff did have a hole in the boards, which had a door in it and a bolt for when he wasn’t out doing dirties. A lasting effect of the boarding up cooperation was an agreement to have a resident’s meeting every week, in the foyer.
Harry was torn over the following days. At least partly because of a reluctance to believe that the area he grew up with could get like the streets near Heathrow airport. He did take the time to look for a suitable place to fort up. There was nothing unoccupied and defensible where he looked. After trying to buy diesel, Harry was wary about using what was in the pickup to just drive around looking. Both Rob and Finn confided that they took fuel as part payment for the work they got. That was drying up though, both the fuel and the work.
Everything was drying up. The fresh food at the cash market became scarcer, and cost more. There was no sign of Sharyn’s pay from the Army Compensation Fund, nor Susan’s redundancy pay. Harry’s back pay didn’t arrive and it became clear that only long-standing payments for unemployment or sickness were being paid. Something had to happen soon because more and more people were running short of money for food.
The next block of flats was two hundred yards away across a now abandoned and overgrown children’s play area and the two car parks, one for each block. Following a night where the residents in Sharyn’s block could see flames in a lower window, there was a visitor. The man went off with the advice that had been given in Homebase, steal plywood from empty properties.
Chapter 6:
Forting Up
“Christ, what the hell.” There was hammering on the flat door and the phone was ringing and Harry was trying to get his head working. At least it had stopped the bloody dream.
“Harry, Harry!” That was Finn.
“Coming.” Harry staggered to the door as a bleary-eyed Sharyn headed for the phone and a sleepy complaint announced that Daisy was awake.
“There’s someone breaking into the garage.” Harry sharpened up as Finn continued. “There’s a gang of them.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know. Karen can hear them because they hammered on her boarding first. Said they were coming to get her.” Finn looked past Harry. “Can I have a pick-shaft please?” He was clutching a claw hammer.
“Yeah right, no problem. How many more are awake?”
“Everyone because we’re ringing round or hammering on doors. In case they get in or set fire to the place.” Finn was interrupted by Sharyn.
“Louise is on the third floor right above them. There’s seven and they’ve got hammers and crowbars.” Sharyn had the phone to her ear and held up a hand for a moment to listen. “She says should she throw things?”
“Big heavy things she doesn’t mind losing. That’ll slow them up because they’ll dodge.” Sharyn spoke into the phone while Finn pulled on Harry’s arm.
“Won’t that stop them?”
“No. She might get one but if they’re determined they’ll just step aside. We need enough people to scare them off.”
“I’ll see who will come. What should they bring?” That was Susan, now in the corridor wearing a big fluffy dressing gown. “Rob says he’s got a crowbar and he’s on the way here so you can go to the garage in a group. In case they’re already inside.”
Harry shook his head. “We don’t want them in the garage. If they break the door we’ll never fix it. We’ll have to go out and chase them off.” Silence greeted that.
“Go outside?” Finn wasn’t happy and the six pairs of eyes now in the corridor weren’t either.
“Unless you want a broken garage door and the next lot lighting bonfires in there?” The eyes didn’t like that either.
“Right. Er. I’ll start phoning. What do they bring?” Susan was firming up nicely.
“Clubs, and the longer the better. We want to be able to threaten them before they can start punching or anything like that.” Like knives Harry was thinking, because it was odds on that the yobs would have some.
“You need shoes at least, even if you’re doing a Hulk impression in boxers.” Sharyn’s voice brought Harry up with a jerk. He glanced down.
“Er, right. I’ll get dressed first.” He retreated into the flat and headed for clothes.
As soon as the door closed Sharyn asked. “How serious is it?”
“If we stop them breaking the door, not too bad. Enough people waving things and they’ll back off. Can you get people to look out of the other sides and make sure there’s no more lurking?” Harry had suddenly realised that a few luring the main doors open would be a neat trick. Hopefully the yobs weren’t tacticians.
By the time Harry was in the foyer the answer was no, there were no other yobs in sight. There were also sixteen determined residents gripping walking sticks, some golf clubs, a couple with baseball bats, and several with claw hammers. Karen had a single crutch and Harry remembered how slowly she actually walked. “You guard the door Karen.”
For a moment Karen was about to object, then subsided. “Very smooth. Just my type.”
Harry smiled then turned to the rest and held out his spares. “One baseball bat and a pick-shaft. Those with muscles please apply.” Liz took the baseball bat and passed her long shafted lump hammer to someone with a kitchen knife.
“I’ve got muscles from pounding iron.” She twirled the bat. “Right, what the plan, general?”
Harry looked at them and got a little bit ambitious. Not completely, but they outnumbered the yobs enough to try. “We’ll try and get the hammers and crowbars off them. Who are fastest and fittest?” Hands went up, some hesitant. “Right, when I start running you come with me and we try to get level with them. Not surround them or they’ll fight. We want them to drop the heavy stuff and run to avoid being surrounded.”
“Will that work?”
“No idea but if we can get the tools they won’t come back.”
“I’m with that.” Rob did have a crowbar and a wicked looking nail bar nearly the length of a baseball bat. Liz claimed it and handed the baseball bat to another less well armed man, one who said he could run. “You keep them occupied and once I finally get there?” Rob swished the crowbar. “We can’t let them get at the women.”
Harry hoped they all kept the act up, and that enough would firm up if it came to a fight. Rob was certainly determined. Liz grinned. “I’m protecting the men.”
“Right, come on.” The crowd exited and Karen stood inside the door as it closed, with her implement ready and a determined expression. She would look through the peephole, and open up when the residents came back. The group walked to the corner, from where the clang of hammer on metal and the creak of the door under strain sounded clearly. So did a sudden crash and swearing, and the sounds of breaking in ceased for a few moments. Louise was on the job.
As soon as the next crash sounded Harry said “now” quietly and the group went round the corner. The seven were looking up at the balcony where Louise was shaking her fist at them. Harry was relieved because most of this lot were low t
eens, maybe sixteen or younger. The two older men were perhaps Harry’s age. Even as the group of residents closed the gap one of those looked over and swore, and the rest turned to look.
One man held up a hand. “You stop right there or you’ll get it.” Sure enough, knives appeared in several teenage hands.
Harry just kept walking. Most of the youngsters weren’t confident because they were looking at numbers, not the type of people behind Harry. He spoke to keep them in place just a bit longer, because Harry wanted to be near enough to clobber one of the older men if it all went wrong. He thought the youngsters might scatter if that happened. “We’ll get what? Big long clubs against bitty little knives? We’ll beat you to death.” Harry hoped that would reassure the ones behind him. One of the older men was speaking urgently, but the other one shrugged him off. “Bunch of office workers and shop assistants. The first sight of blood and you’ll wet yourselves.”
Possible, Harry thought, but a few seemed up for it so. “Run.” Harry said it calmly and set off at an angle. If he’d run towards them, the yobs would have come to meet him, but running at an angle threw them. Especially since half the residents stayed were they were. Harry took the dozen long strides to get level with the first couple of them and then stopped.
Harry stopped and went very still. The speaker had pulled out a handgun. Crap. “That’s better. Now you can all throw down those crowbars and baseball bats. You, mouthy, can throw that fancy stick over here.”
Harry played for time. “Poncy stick. It’s a poncy stick.”
“What? Hey, I told you, put that lot down.” The handgun pointed briefly off towards the other residents before coming back to line up on Harry. Harry took a deep breath of relief. Never again, he promised himself. Never come into a fight without a bloody gun.
Something clattered to the ground off towards the rest of the residents. “Pick that back up. You’ll need it to beat the crap out this lot.” Harry took two steps as the man watched, puzzled. “Because when this prat uses that air pistol it’ll be empty, and I’m going to make him eat the bloody thing.” Harry heard footsteps following him.
“I’ll shoot you.”
Harry took the other two steps so he was almost level with the last one of the group round the garage door. “So what? After I’ve jammed it where the sun don’t shine I’ll put a plaster on the hole and have a pint.”
“It’ll kill you.”
“No it won’t, and I do know that.” Harry knew it was unlikely to do so, which was near enough right now.
“He should know, since he uses the real thing.”
“What?” The man’s eyes moved towards Liz’s voice.
“He’s a soldier. The real thing, asshole.” There was pure sincerity and real malice in that.
Harry wished Liz had kept quiet given the antipathy the other people he’d met had towards the Army, but this lot used a different script. The youngsters were impressed and worried, and there was a definite drift towards their escape route. Still, now it was out in the open, he may as well act mean and soldierly. “Which means I’ll run you down before you reach that corner.” Harry hefted the stick by the bottom so the big brass boss was waving about. “Then guess what?”
“Hammer time.” That was Rob. Harry nearly sniggered because it was ages since he’d heard that. The man facing him hadn’t heard of MC Hammer, so he got the literal meaning. So did the other older man and he tugged on his friend’s arm again.
The leader glanced at where the rest of the residents were. “Next time, soldier boy.”
“No. This time. That’s my garage door so you pay for the damage. Drop the hammers and crowbars, and that poncy little gun, and you can go. If not we take payment a bit more personally.” Oops, Harry realised he’d got a bit carried away there. Maybe he should have let them go because the residents weren’t really up to a proper fight. He’d got annoyed again.
“I want him that keeps tugging your sleeve, Mr gunman. I’m going to smack him silly.” Liz might be all right then.
“I want the bastard who’s been using the big hammer on my garage door.” Rob sounded genuine as well.
A crowbar hit the floor, and then two smaller hammers. The front man whirled. “Pick them up. They’re bluffing.”
Harry took a long step towards the group and the man saw the alarm in the eyes of his friends. He turned back and Harry took another step and grinned at him. “Bet you don’t get four steps now.”
“Fuck it.” The other older man started moving away and then the sledgehammer hit the floor, and the remaining small crowbar. “Leave the hammers. We’ll get more.” Then he was walking backwards, away from trouble. The front man took a step backwards and Harry matched it.
Just this one to deal with and Harry was confident that he was close enough now. If the barrel came up to fire, Harry would go for it and the chances were the yob couldn’t get it up fast enough. “No, you leave that or you eat it.” Harry ducked aside as the air pistol flew towards him and the man was running, followed by the rest.
The yob stopped at the corner, briefly. “We’ll be back for you.” That wasn’t unexpected and was swamped by the cheering from behind Harry. He turned and Liz suddenly had her arms round him. Then she burst into tears!
“You are a lunatic. You scared me shitless.” Harry patted her on the back and Liz sniffled a bit and straightened up. “Sorry, but my legs were going wobbly when the arse pulled a gun and you just sneered at him. My whole bloody life flashed before my eyes and it wasn’t long enough.” Liz thumped Harry lightly on the chest. “I’ve never been so pleased to be with a macho bastard.”
Then she smiled and squeezed Harry’s bicep. “Pity you’re such a skinny macho bastard.” Liz turned and walked towards Rob, holding out the nail bar. “Here. I don’t know why we bothered to come with him.”
Rob smiled. “I wouldn’t have missed that for the world. Were you in the bloody SAS or what?”
“No. If it had been one of them he’d have insisted on beating a few up.” Harry opened his mouth to say he was pay corps and shut it. They needed confidence, and a pay clerk wouldn’t inspire it. He smiled at what Liz had said because it was true. “Though I am a soldier, the real thing.” People were moving forward now and collecting the tools and someone swore.
“They got the bottom bent up at the corner. It’ll never go back flush because the frame is torn and twisted.”
Harry wanted to know one very important thing. “But they can’t open it?”
“No.” The man grimaced. “But they can chuck a bottle of petrol under there or lever it up a bit further and maybe get a kid through. Some of that lot were skinny.”
“We need sentries.” Finn was actually smiling. “One in the garage and one in the foyer. Maybe sort out a rota to watch out of a window each side.” He looked round, “Since we’ve got a soldier to organise them.”
Harry walked back round with a chattering crowd and hands patting him on the back, and a definite feeling of impending doom. He’d scared off some second rate chancers, and this lot thought they were fireproof. The cheers and hugs inside didn’t help and Harry was relieved to get inside Sharyn’s flat. A roused Daisy wanting some Uncle Harry and a bonus story was a really welcome bit of light relief. So was the lack of dreaming the rest of the night.
* * *
The sentries didn’t need a soldier to organise anything really. They were perfectly capable of agreeing what was necessary and sorting it out, though someone always called round to see that Harry agreed. Harry did find out that there were fifty-one people living in the thirty-six flats, so most were single. A score were elderly and some needed a good bit of medication and were unhappy about the problems with getting an ambulance.
“How did they manage before?” Harry had just agreed to another hospital trip. “If Rob and Finn weren’t still scoring some fuel and sharing I’d have run out by now.”
“Either an ambulance or their relatives used to organise everything. They feel safer with yo
u.” Sharyn was puzzled as well. “I can understand that some relatives would stop coming because of fuel, but not the visitors to others. Not the ones like Mrs Burren-Croft because her son is some sort of bigwig in the council offices. Civil servant type. One of the others has a daughter who is a headmistress. There’s three or four who I would have put money on arriving with goodies and sympathy.”
“Well someone needs to sort this out so at least they all go the same day.” Harry sighed. “It’s getting worse at the hospital as well. There was a burnt out ambulance there last time, for God’s sake.”
“They’ll have to keep going because the doctor’s surgery has closed down.”
“What? When?”
Sharyn shrugged. “I don’t know. Finn went to get another prescription for his Mum and the doors are locked. There’s a notice with a number, and the number says go to the hospital or find another doctor.” Sharyn snorted. “Fat chance. Finn tried three out of the directory and they were all giving the same message.”
“All closed?”
“Worse than that. Finn went to one where the phone didn’t answer and it was smashed wide open. I suppose whoever did that went after drugs. Worse than that, he was shot at in broad daylight.”
“Crap. I’m going to bring my rifle home.”
“What about the poncy gun?” Sharyn sniggered. “Liz liked that.” Then she gave Harry a long look. “Stealing a firearm Harry?”
“I bought it, technically, and everyone who still goes to the range has their own rifle. I doubt they’ll ever know since there’s no sign they’re still going. The next time someone pulls a poncy or any other sort of gun on me I want one as well.” Harry smiled. “I’ll bring some pellets for poncy gun as well but I’ll pay for them.”
“You’ll ruin your reputation. Why don’t you steal the lot?” Sharyn had a little smile and Harry thought about it.
“Not yet. That will be noticed and I don’t own them in any way. If it really gets bad I’ll consider that, if only to stop someone else getting them.” Harry waved a hand at the fireworks punctuating the night. “Those are getting worse.” Then he gave a rueful smile. “I might end up stealing all sorts soon because flush for money is now becoming strapped for cash. Nobody wants to talk about paying me anything, especially back pay.”