Fall of the Cities: Planting the Orchard

by Vance Huxley

  “Trade what?” Harold was still wondering what when the man’s voice spoke up again. “We’ll trade for spears.”

  Harold looked at the wall of points poking out of various vehicles. They did look vicious things, somehow worse than a knife taped to a stick. He faced the store again. “We could do with some seeds, and maybe bushes. Can someone have a look?”

  “Not in here. Someone can look in the garden but leave the growing things, the veggies, alone.” Harold looked round as a door opened and Berry was out of the minibus and heading towards Harold. So much for staying with her bodyguard.

  Before Harold could object, Berry started. “He said they had no booze. Trade some yeast and the expertise to brew wine, with a few traps and tubes.” She smiled. “But not until we’ve got some fruit bushes.”

  Harold faced the boarded door. “We can show you how to make booze and trade supplies to start you off. We’ll also discuss a couple of spears depending on what is worth taking. Those trees look dead.”

  “Not completely, we’ve put the fruit ones in water but there’s no spare soil. Those others are drying out for firewood.” This time Harold heard a woman’s voice from inside. “The woman can look.”

  Harold wasn’t sending any woman on her own. “A man with each woman or girl. Two of each. Just so we can get done quickly and leave.”

  This time Harold had to wait as a real argument erupted inside, then the man was back. “All right but the rest of you stay there. No vehicles come any closer.”

  “Deal.” Harold turned to the convoy. “I need two women, Curtis and a man. Casper, you’re the man, not a girl.” A ripple of laughter ran down the convoy as Casper climbed out and waved his machete. Curtis joined him and they moved towards the pickup truck. Berry opened her mouth and Harold beat her to it. “No, Berry. Get in the pickup please and stay there. I will not take your body back to your Dad.”

  Berry opened her eyes in surprise, opened her mouth, and then shut it. She sighed.

  “I’ll go.” Emmy climbed out of the pickup. “You sit in there Berry, and look mean. Ooh look, that pout should do it.” The two young women laughed at each other as Berry climbed in and sat down. Then she produced a ferocious scowl.

  Sal was heading over with a spear and a baseball bat and the four lined up ready. Harold pulled the rifle out and showed it to the garden centre. “Don’t try anything or I’ll shoot the shit out of the whole place. The boards won’t stop this.” He had all of twenty two rounds so he wouldn’t affect the big store very much, but the effect was just what Harold wanted.

  “Bloody hell, point that somewhere else. There’s women in here.” Another argument broke out in there and this time Harold distinctly heard ‘but they’ve already got women’ before the volume dropped away. “All right. There’ll be no trouble if they don’t try to take anything.” The four inspectors headed for the gate in the fence.

  Harold could see the four heads moving about in there, so he didn’t get worried as the convoy waited. Eventually Sal came back to report. “There are some fruit trees that Curtis says are still alive. He thinks four apple and two plum, and one cherry are worth taking. The rest are a bit touch and go. There’s blackberry and several of the other bushes, and rhubarb though it’s planted. They may not want to trade that.”

  Sal glanced at the store and lowered her voice even if she was a long way away. “Curtis says if they dug holes through the tarmac, they’ve probably got enough compost in there to grow more. Trees will send roots clean through the rubble and such underneath and into real soil once they’re started. Brambles will for sure.”

  Harold thought about it. How did he work that into a trade because once said, nobody needed to pay for the information? “Thanks, Sal. I’m going to go and have a chat to the man at the door. Ask Curtis to sort out everything we want and put it by the gate. Inside. Then I’ll make a deal with this lot.”

  Sal headed back and Harold spoke up. “We can help you to grow more, but it’s worth plants or seed. We’ll sort out what we want, and I’ll come over to the door and talk.”

  “Not with that cannon.”

  Harold smiled and gave the rifle to Billy, who got out and stood holding it. Then he walked over. “We can teach you to make wine and leave some kit, and we can tell you how to grow some trees and bushes. Those are both worth something. We’ll also trade two spears. What seeds will you offer?”

  This time Harold could hear four distinct voices arguing, and at least one was a woman. “Go round to the back and we’ll bring the seeds.”

  Harold tried to keep the relief from his voice. “We’ll want veggies and some flowers that will seed again for next year.”

  The bartering was intense, but eventually there was a sort of agreement about the value of knowing how to grow more. The same with the wine making but two booklets and sight of the gear helped with that. Berry did come across to explain the wine making, with a scowling Bernie standing guard. In the end three spears were also traded, and the deal was done.

  The locals were disgusted with themselves when told they could just punch holes in the tarmac or take the lot up, but agreed the information was worth the extra seeds and two rhubarb plants. In the end three of them stood by the gate, carrying their new spears, and waved goodbye to the convoy. The convoy headed home, pushing hard, because the days were shorter now.

  * * *

  As they came around the roundabout and headed down the road towards the bypass, and the entrance to home, gun flashes rippled up on the bypass. The Army were shooting! “Foot down Billy. Get home now!” Billy did. The pickup screeched and swayed around the turn into the estate and mounted the footpath to go round the cars on the road. As the vehicle bumped back off the kerb Harold could see a group of people heading across the back gardens towards a figure on the ground.

  Harold was out of the cab as soon as the pickup stopped, leaving the big rifle on the seat. Emmy was right behind him as he headed across the garden, and the group parted. Gabriela was laid there, covered in blood but still moving a little. Beyond her, across the boundary and near the ruins, two men lay. “What happened?”

  “A lot of men came from the ruins. They demanded booze and women.” Holly’s face was white but her eyes were alight with rage. “One of them came forward to the boundary and Gabriela went to meet him.” Holly averted her eyes and her voice dropped. “She tried to do your thing. What Liz calls macho bullshit.”

  “Gabriela told them no and to back off or they’d be shot. We could hear it clearly.” There was no fight in Karen now. She looked frail, and Stewart was holding her. “He said she would do for a start and came over the rubble heap we made. He had a machete. We opened fire. I tried, Harold, but this gun didn’t do any good.”

  An amateur with an air pistol wouldn’t hit much at over twenty yards so Harold wasn’t surprised. “He stopped in surprise and Gabriela hit him on the arm, with her machete. He dropped his machete. But then he pulled a knife with the other hand and stuck it in her.” Holly was almost shaking with rage now. “He said the rest should rush us and then our lot fired again. One of them screamed and held his face.”

  “One man pulled a pistol at that and the Army opened fire. They hit him and three others. Two of those left with the rest but they were wounded. The one who stabbed Gabriela picked up both machetes and went as well.” Stewart looked frightened but determined. “He said they’d be back tonight. He said there would be more of them, and they’d run right over us and share the women round. He claimed Holly.”

  “Father.” Everyone but the two knelt by Gabriela whirled as she called out. “Father, forgive me.” She coughed and then whimpered, curling around her belly.

  Harold headed over and knelt beside her. One glance and nothing, no medical help he could get her, was going to save Gabriela. The knife had cut across her belly, ripping her wide open. He took her hand and Gabriela’s skin was already cold.

  “I tried to stop them Father. It was all my fault they came. Forgive me.”
A low voice spoke right near Harold’s ear. Sal? “Tell her God forgives her.”

  “What?” Harold was startled, but managed to keep his voice low.

  “She thinks you’re a priest. Be one.”

  “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been too long since I last confessed. I loved him Father, my lovely Abraham, and I am sorry because he was an unbeliever and that was a sin. I wanted him so much and we sinned without marriage. Is that why he died? I have taken life, Father, and I can’t forgive them, those who killed him. Will I see him Father, will he be waiting?” Gabriela was rambling now but holding out her other hand, so Harold took it in his.

  Sal nudged Harold as both Gabriela’s hands grasped tighter.

  Harold tried. “Abraham will be waiting. God is merciful.” Not likely, or she wouldn’t be laid here.

  “Father?”

  Sal whispered. “Wrong words. Tell her she sinned, but has repented and she must say a Hail Mary.”

  Harold’s head spun, but he tried for it. “You have sinned, but you have repented. You must say one Hail Mary.” Whatever the hell that was. “Then you will see Abraham again.”

  “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed are you among all women and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God.” Gabriela stopped and whimpered. Her eyes were open, but whatever she was seeing wasn’t in front of them. “Pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our death.”

  Sal murmured again. “Now repeat this.” Harold did, word for word as she said it. It was completely wrong, and had to be blasphemous, but as he spoke Gabriela’s face cleared. Much of the pain went from her features though she was still twitching and whimpering sometimes.

  “I absolve you from your sins, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

  Gabriela’s bloody hands grasped harder as she finally heard the words she had needed for too long, her absolution.

  Sal nudged and whispered, “Now repeat this.”

  Harold did. “Go forth, O Christian soul, from this world, in the name of God the Father Almighty, who created thee; may thy place be this day in peace, and thine abode in holy Sion. Through Christ our Lord.”

  “Amen.” Harold nearly jumped out of his skin as four or five other voices joined in. Sal whispered on, relentless.

  Harold tried to keep his voice level. “O merciful and gracious God, mercifully regard this Thy handmaid Gabriela and grant her a full discharge from all her sins, through Christ our Lord.”

  “Amen.” More voices now, and they were stronger. Sal whispered again and Harold spoke.

  “I commend you, dear Sister, to the almighty God, and consign you to the care of Him, may you be placed among the company of the blessed and enjoy the sweetness of the contemplation of your God for ever.” This was all wrong because Harold didn’t really believe this stuff. But Gabriela did, and so he carried on as her grip began to slacken.

  “Amen.” At least a dozen people now, and maybe more.

  Sal whispered again. “Keep going while she can hear. It’s working.” Then she fed Harold the next line of this travesty.

  “Receive, Lord, Thy handmaid into the place of salvation, which she hopes to obtain through Thy mercy.”

  “Amen.” That was a deep, solid response by a lot of voices. Then apart from Sal’s voice, the only sound was Gabriela’s laboured breathing. Harold repeated the next lines as instructed.

  “Go forth, O Christian soul, from this world, in the name of God the Father Almighty, who created thee, may thy place be this day in peace, and thine abode in holy Sion, with Abraham. Through Christ our Lord.” Harold stuck the Abraham in because he thought Gabriela needed it.

  At least half the residents must have arrived. “Amen.”

  “O God, mercifully regard this Thy handmaid Gabriela and grant her a full discharge from all her sins, who with a contrite heart most earnestly begs it of Thee. Through Christ our Lord.”

  “Amen.” Harold knew most of the residents blamed God for the mess if they even believed, but they were still doing their part. He was praying to a God he didn’t believe in, asking forgiveness for something he didn’t consider a sin. Some part of Harold accepted that if Gabriela was right, then he would burn long and hot for this. Sal was whispering again.

  “I commend you, dear Sister, to the almighty God, may you be placed among the company of the blessed and enjoy the sweetness of the contemplation of your God for ever.”

  “Amen.” Harold had never been in a church but now this felt like some sort of Holy. Maybe religion worked better, out in the open. Sal whispered again and Harold spoke the words.

  “Receive, Lord, Thy handmaid into the place of salvation, along with Abraham, which she hopes to obtain through Thy mercy.” Harold stuck another Abraham in. It couldn’t hurt because Gabriela was still listening. Her failing grip tightened briefly when Harold spoke her man’s name.

  “Abraham.” So softly that half of them missed it. Those that heard could never decide if it was prayer, or a greeting. Though the smile that came afterwards should have melted any God’s heart.

  “We commend to Thee, Lord, the soul of Thy handmaid Gabriela, and we pray Thee, Lord Jesus Christ, be pleased to admit her to thy bosom.”

  “Amen.” There were a few sobs after this one.

  “She’s gone.” Sal spoke but Harold knew because Gabriela’s bloody fingers had released his hands.

  He turned, still knelt. “What the hell was that?” Harold almost choked getting it out, and rubbed away the tears so he could see Sal.

  Sal’s face was harsh, with tears streaming down her drawn cheeks. “That was the most half-baked, messed up, blasphemous parody of confession and the Catholic priest’s prayer over the dying you will ever hear.” She sighed, and her face and voice softened. “But look at her, Harold.”

  Harold did, and Gabriela had died totally at peace with her God. He figured that alone was worth the possible hellfire. Though others needed some of that first. Harold’s eyes moved down to her terrible wound and his face hardened. “Who’s with me?”

  “I am.” That was Holly, and she understood immediately.

  “For what?” Liz didn’t.

  “Who is coming to hunt the bastards down?”

  * * *

  Harold didn’t need names. A dozen faces hardened and their backs straightened. Those faces went from grief to anger or determination and people turned back to get firearms. “I’ll get your big rifle, Harold. You clean up so you can shoot properly.” Sharyn turned away and yes, it would fit under her long coat.

  Then Toby was there, cheeks wet and his two-two rifle tucked under his coat. “I tried, Harold. I hit one but it wasn’t enough.”

  “You got them to draw a gun, and that brought the Army in. You might have saved everyone with that one shot.”

  “It’s not enough.” Toby looked down at Gabriela and then up at Harold, now on his feet. “I want more. Can I come?”

  Harold knew it was wrong to let a fifteen year old boy go on a vengeance manhunt. But so was some arse knifing a young woman because she wouldn’t let him do whatever he wanted. Toby was going to live in a very bad world so maybe this would help him one day. “Stick close to me. Only shoot if I tell you to.”

  Toby nodded and did just that, stuck close as Harold washed his hands with a bottle of water someone handed him. “Here. Ah. I’ll take it to the first ruins.” Sharyn had the rifle under her coat but it wouldn’t fit under Harold’s jacket.

  “Then go back to the houses immediately. Where are the kids?”

  “Betty’s got them. She was going to take them into the exclusion zone if it all went to hell, and hope the Army didn’t shoot children. We’ll sort out Gabriela. Get her cleaned up and all that.” A snarl came into Sharyn’s voice. “Get them, little brother.”

  “On my list. Right at the top.” Harold looked around at the group who had now gathered. A dozen, all with hidden rifles and pistols or displaying crossbo
ws and machetes or spears.

  “No macho bullshit, right? This time we just kill them.” Liz had a pistol crossbow and a machete, and a determined look.

  “I want him. That bastard. I’m gonna cut him into tiny pieces.” Harold should have said something but he needed them all ready to kill, and not thinking too hard. Even a slim seventeen year old blonde girl.

  “Which way, Holly. Where did they head off to?”

  Her arm came up without hesitation. “At least one was yelling because he was wounded. A couple have crossbow bolts in them and two were shot by the Army. At least one of those is limping badly. One was holding his face. They disappeared that way.” Harold was actually impressed by how well the defenders had done.

  “Right. We must move as quietly and quickly as we can. Keep an eye open for blood sign and we spread a bit to catch a change of direction.” Harold was heading for the ruins already and as soon as he stepped inside one Sharyn gave him the rifle. She also had the two spare clips.

  “All of them brother, and stick their heads on a post as a warning.”

  “Good thinking. Send someone up to the Army, will you?” The bullhorn had started demanding and Harold simply didn’t have the time or inclination to answer.

  “Go.” Sharyn pushed and Harold went.

  The group moved quickly but hadn’t caught up as the light dimmed. Harold would have thought he’d missed them but at least one was still bleeding enough to leave signs on walls and bushes. Casper’s hand went up off to the left and then everyone heard the complaining. Someone wanted a rest to sort out his leg, and another wanted a breather. A loud voice was pointing out that there’d been a lot of bloody vans turn up, they had to keep going.

  Harold’s group gathered and went through the next line of overgrown hedges together. There was a shout from further down the road. “It’s them. Charge, they’ve only got pissy little single shots.”

  Harold saw the man who was shouting and smiled. His rifle came up, then he hesitated and moved the muzzle just a bit, towards the shoulder opposite the rough sling. The big three oh three bellowed and the man was spun and flipped off his feet into the garden behind. “Pissy?” Harold breathed as he worked the bolt and swung his whole body, looking for the next target.