Fall of the Cities: Planting the Orchard

by Vance Huxley

  “No, we do actually sit tight. That mob can’t keep that up for long. They’ll run out of food as well as being just plain knackered, and some will have families to get back to. It’ll break up come morning though Leeds will be a hellhole afterwards.” Harold tried to look reassuring. “Remember, we’ve got a wall, and the Army just behind us.” They all sat in silence for a while, watching a city burn until the TV closed down with the usual platitudes.

  “Remember, keep calm. The government are working on a solution to the oil crisis. Civil unrest will only disrupt those efforts.”

  For a moment Harold thought Liz was going to spit. “A line of soldiers to pen us in until we’re eating our young, more like.” She gave a sigh, then a big grin. “After that I need a hug, Harold.”

  Sal actually opened her mouth to say something, and then shut up. Casper grinned as Liz wrapped her arms round Harold and put her head on his shoulder. Harold hugged her, it wasn’t exactly an unpleasant task.

  “That’s better.” Liz turned to the door. “Come on then, I want to get home while I’m feeling better.”

  “No chance, my turn.” Sal stepped forward and opened her arms with a big grin. As he hugged her Harold could see Casper trying not to burst out laughing. Worse, Sharyn’s eyes were alight with glee. She was going to have a lot of fun with this.

  “Lovely, just as advertised. I’m nothing like as upset now.” Sal and Liz high-fived each other.

  Casper held out his arms with a big grin. Harold shook his head. “Piss off. Go and hug a tree now we’ve got some.”

  “Curtis will tell you if any of them have a preference. Apparently some plants have a male and female.” Casper took a mock swipe at Liz and the three left, laughing.

  “Right little brother. I’m trying to fight back the nausea at that exhibition, but I’m also curious. Just as advertised?” Sharyn had her hands on her hips, but the frown was losing out to the glee. “Exactly how many innocent young women have you been molesting like that?”

  “Innocent? Those two?” Harold settled for trying to divert her though Sharyn would be asking elsewhere now. If she found out what the actual game was, Harold would like to know himself.

  * * *

  Laughs were in short supply the following day. Everyone turned out to barricade the entrance to the little community, so that anyone heading for the exit wouldn’t be tempted to divert and overrun their cluster of houses. “Get the welder Liz. Make sure the front layer can’t be pulled apart.” The metal garage doors were nailed to timbers, which were jammed firmly into the three wrecked vehicles towed from the main road.

  “That serious? How do we get in and out with our vehicles afterwards, Harold?”

  “We don’t, not until things get better. Seriously better.” Harold looked towards the bypass. “We’ll put the two pickups and both vans along the boundary on that side. Just this side of the exclusion zone. I’ll get the hammer mob to bash out the back of a garage and drive them through.”

  “What about the minibus?”

  “Yes, good idea, just in case we do have to go somewhere mob-handed.” Harold sniggered. “Peacefully.” One of the girl club had carefully painted ‘we come in peace’ on the sides and front of the minibus. The effect of that and the flowers and big cupid bow lips here and there was spoiled by the rear. There, ‘we shoot to kill’ was just as carefully painted on the back doors with a selection of spears and crossbows. All with pretty bows on them.

  “Make sure the rear is towards the road, so any passers-by get the message.” Liz wasn’t joking at all. The comfort hug hadn’t lasted long and many of the girl club and most of the residents had been discussing Leeds deep into the night.

  “Will do. Try to use as few welding rods as possible, because there aren’t many out there.”

  Liz looked thoughtful. “Will do, but something else came up last night. If the gas goes off but the electricity keeps going, we can manage. But that will screw up heating metal. Once this is over, we want every tree out there,” she waved at the ruins, “to turn into charcoal.”

  “Remind me afterwards.”

  “Harold, Harold.” Hazel was running down the road, waving.

  “I’m having my name changed to that, Harold-Harold.” Liz laughed at him and left to get her welder.

  “Harold, the radio and TV died. All of them. There was just a buzzing noise. Then the TV and radio came back but a bit crackly. Only the BBC. Nothing else.” Harold stared, trying to get his head round that while Hazel hopped from one foot to the other. “Sharyn wanted you to know straight away. What does it mean, Harold?”

  “Why didn’t you just phone?” Harold pointed to the house on his left. “Number two is right here.”

  “Oh.” Hazel stopped hopping about for a moment. “I forgot. The phone doesn’t work. That was part of the message. Sorry. What’s happening, Harold?” She was on the move again, too nervous to stand still.

  “It’s just to stop the bad people in the city centre from getting organised. Don’t worry about it Hazel. The radio and phone will probably start up again once the marching is over.” Harold had a terrible suspicion they wouldn’t. “Will you collect Toby, Veronica and Alfie as runners, and go to every house please. Ask them to turn off their gas, just in case the pipes get broken somewhere?”

  “What about the heat, Harold? Some of the houses use gas heating?”

  “Just get it all turned off, Hazel. Ask Harry to go round and check the main tap is off in every house, even the empty ones.” Harold smiled at her, because Hazel really looked worried. “Just to be safe. We can use extra blankets for a day or so, and electric blow heaters.”

  “I’ve got an electric blanket now. Liz gave me one for emergencies.” Harold had no trouble with a smile now. “There you are, all fixed up.

  Now off you go and spread the word. If you can do that for me, I can keep working on this. Thanks Hazel.”

  She gave a big smile and was off like a whippet, shouting for Toby. Harold had a moment to think it through, when it didn’t matter how grim he looked. The thoughts weren’t any better the second time round. Without local radio coming from nearby cities, this one was isolated except for government information. Without local radio within the city, or phones, each enclave was isolated. Without gas, petrol or oil, the electricity supply was a knife at everyone’s throat.

  Harold straightened his shoulders and put on a not-so-grim face, and got stuck into making this little enclave as isolated as possible. He spread the news as he worked. At lunch time Hazel, Veronica, Alfie and Toby became official runners. One would be at the gate at all times, and one near Harold, to pass any messages.

  “I’ll still be there if needed, with my rifle.”

  “I know Toby, and I’ll be pleased that you are. It’s just that you four run fastest.” They were also least capable of the heavy lifting and heaving bricks, though Harold would never tell them that. Though Alfie was packing on muscle now. He was pumping iron, or using gym equipment anyway, to build up his shoulder muscles. Muscle was going on elsewhere at the same time and Liz complained that it was totally unfair. Alfie was too young so even if he kept going for a couple of years and gained the right body, she’d still feel like a child-snatcher.

  It turned out that Alfie was the right size for the compound bow, but needed more shoulder muscle to pull it. Nobody had any intention of trying to alter the way the bow was set up. The bits of information gleaned from the internet insisted that resetting the bow needed specialist equipment. Three people were the right size, or rather had the right pull according to the internet, and Sal had no intention of bulking up like that. Bernie couldn’t, he just became more wiry and lean with exercise though he was getting fitter.

  Harold thought of things like that rather than what might be happening in the city centre because if there was a march, it was happening now. They could all hear popping noises from towards the centre, but it was hard to tell just how bad that was getting. Mid-afternoon several helicopters gathered
over there, and two thick plumes of smoke rose into the sky. Soon afterwards, by common consent, they all went home to look at the TV. By then Harold was only throwing extra bricks on the approach road to impede vehicles. They’d done what they could to make the place safe.

  * * *

  “This is a recording Harold. If you watch they’ll skip forward, and there’s lines and circles drawn to highlight things that happened.” Sharyn came through and brought the smell of chips and warm bread with her. “Here you are, quick and nasty so I can watch.”

  “Thanks sis. Quick and scrumptious, chip butties.” Salt and sauce landed on the table next to Harold. They sat side by side watching and munching.

  “There, see.” On the screen a circle appeared around a group of men climbing out of vehicles and disappearing into the crowd. Harold thought two of them were carrying what looked a lot like long weapons. The commentary switched from describing the complaints being presented to the Mayor.

  “The group just highlighted were not noticed at the time. With such a large crowd it proved impossible for the forces of law and order to be properly vigilant.”

  “The forces of law and order are too busy messing themselves.” What was probably every policeman left in the city was lined up between the crowd and the Mayor and officials. Behind the first rows with riot shields and batons, the rest were clearly carrying firearms. A close-up highlighted that.

  “Be fair, Harold. I have never seen such a big crowd.” Sharyn was right, there had to be tens of thousands of protesters spilling over the roads and the big open market area and car parks. There was no sign of the market or any cars now, just a seething mass of humanity that spilled into the surrounding streets. More were still pouring out of the underpasses, and gathering on the raised roadways nearby.

  “Nor have I. I really hope they don’t start a riot because there aren’t enough police. What idiot told the Mayor to meet them there instead of in front of his offices?” The car park in front of the Mayor’s office wouldn’t have held a tenth of this crowd. The picture onscreen highlighted another large group of men arriving and disappearing into the crowd.

  “The reduction in broadcasting facilities and the temporary closure of the telephone system was instigated in response to these armed groups. It was hoped that such actions would prevent any co-ordinated attempts to harm the Mayor.”

  “Oh crap. This is recorded, so that statement is preparing us.” The picture zoomed in to show a group carrying a big banner with rough lettering. ‘Give our children their milk’ in big red letters. Behind the women with the banner three hard-faced men were passing, carrying shotguns. “The lunatics are going to start a Leeds.”

  Sharyn looked at Harold aghast. “All those men and women won’t allow it, surely. Those women won’t charge the police to get milk, for God’s sake.”

  “No, but if the ones with guns shoot at the Mayor, one of two things will happen. The best result is that someone sensible will order the withdrawal, and the police will get the hell out with the Mayor. Then sharpshooters will start on the gunmen.” Harold sighed. “I’ve seen the other result as well. Someone in charge shouts ‘shoot them, you idiots’ and one of the policemen pulls the trigger. Then the rest of the police will do the same. Then the only way for the crowd to survive is to trample the police.”

  “Where?” Sharyn’s voice was soft. “Where did you see that, Harold?”

  “Not quite that. In Calais there was a crowd, and soldiers, and then either us or the French killed the women and kids.”

  Sharyn stared, aghast. “What? How?”

  “Planes came in low and dropped napalm on the refugee camp. We might still have stopped them with bayonets because reinforcements were coming.” Harold grimaced. “Then an officer panicked, and someone opened fire.” Harold stopped, and Sharyn took his hand in one of hers and patted then stroked it with the other. Harold gave a short laugh. “It’s been a while since you did that, sis.”

  “It’s been a while since it was needed. So we sit and wait to see which way this goes.” There was a short silence. “We were shown pictures of Calais, on the TV. There were close-ups of weapons on the bodies and dead soldiers but nothing about a camp burning.”

  “Whatever we see here might be a bit that way. After all, we can’t really check it can we?” Harold really had that bad feeling now. He’d never mentioned Calais because Harold preferred to never think about it again. Now the same thing might be happening in England. “I’m really worried, sis. Make sure the kids get onto the exclusion zone if necessary?”

  “Hazel and Veronica will be here with Betty, and Finn’s mum in her wheelchair, and Harry at least will be here to take the kids. I’ll collect as many of the frail as I can persuade, but I’ll never get Toby and Alfie to come.” Sharyn sighed. “They both want to be you.”

  “No, they want to be what they think I am, some shiny superhero. Toby has already claimed his place at the gate, with that rifle. I’ll tell him to run if they get over the barricades but I’m not sure he will.” Harold patted Sharyn’s hand this time. “Get them out, sis.”

  “Nope. It must be that soldier boy thing in my blood. I’ll run when you do, Harold. If they get to the kids it’s over me.” Sharyn’s voice was bleak, because on the screen the recordings had reached the moment the overhead cameras noted the armed men. They were zooming the picture in on group after armed group as they worked forward in the crowd. Then the pictures showed soldiers marching up and standing in ranks each side of the mayor’s party. Harold made it about fifty, and no more appeared.

  “You run when I say, Sharyn. Don’t do the last stand thing.”

  “You will though. If you get angry you won’t run, Harold.” Sharyn wasn’t asking, that was a resigned acceptance.

  Harold knew she was right. “But I’ll be doing it so you can run sis, so don’t waste it.”

  “When you tell me to, I’ll run, but wait until I’m no help anymore. I can use a crossbow well enough to hit a crowd, and for the kids I really will shoot anyone.” They hugged, and Harold found that a big-sister hug was still very reassuring. “That does feel better, though I don’t think I’m getting the benefit that makes those women smile.”

  “You give good hugs as well sis, you always did.”

  “Family talent then.” They both watched with sinking hearts as the gunmen began to congregate near the front of the crowd, four or five ranks back.

  “Why hasn’t someone told the Mayor?” Harold was puzzled because on the screen the Mayor was receiving a deputation from the marchers. “That plaza thing he’s on is only six or seven steps high but it means everyone up there can see what’s coming. They could get him clear and pull back the police. Then the cameras could zoom in so the marksmen and soldiers could kill those bastards.” Eerily the TV seemed to answer Harold.

  “Mayor Turnbull has been warned but believes that if he meets with the marchers, peace can be restored. He will not allow the police or Armed Forces to fire on a peaceful gathering of British citizens.”

  Onscreen the Mayor stepped forward, past the deputation. He raised both hands to quieten or address the crowd. Gunfire rippled and the Mayor went down along with most of those with him. That included the deputation of marchers. The cameras zoomed in and the Mayor was on the ground but still moving. Police and officials rushed towards him. The soldiers moved forward and formed a single line in front of the casualties, then raised their rifles.

  “Fortunately, although wounded, the Mayor’s protective vest has saved his life.”

  Onscreen someone was bandaging the Mayor’s leg. Then the picture flipped to the lines of police and some were already down. The ones behind, the armed police, started shooting. Then the soldiers followed suit. Single shots, Harold was pleased to see.

  “The forces of law and order are attempting to keep the peace by shooting the armed assailants, but the crowd are giving them shelter. Members of the Armed Forces that had been airlifted in to reinforce the local police are assisti
ng.”

  “Giving them shelter? They’re trying to get the hell away.” Sharyn was starting to cry now and Harold offered an arm for a brother-hug.

  “It’s the excuse, sis. The official reason for shooting unarmed people because now that’s the only way to get to the others. Too late now for a few sharpshooters to stop it. Too late for a few soldiers to make a difference with single shots.” Onscreen men were falling in the front line of riot police where the armed men in the crowd were shooting through between their human shields.

  “That’s organised as well, the bastards are breaking the police lines up. Unarmed police, except for the batons.” Harold saw a distinctive shape before the man went down, presumably shot. “Crap, that’s an AK and there’s other automatic weapons. There, where groups go down and create sudden gaps in the riot police.” The armed police went to rapid fire as those gaps opened in the lines of riot shields.

  “The cowardly assailants and their accomplices have conspired to kill unarmed policemen. Unfortunately, and with true regret, the officer in charge has no option but to give the order to open fire on the front ranks of protesters.”

  The officer was a bit late in some places as some police were already shooting as fast as they could reload, but Harold couldn’t blame them. Now the soldiers were firing short bursts. Probably only Harold noticed the first squaddie to lose it and fire a long indiscriminate burst into the front of the crowd. Too little, too late. Even above the popping of weaponry that could be heard by the circling camera overhead, the deep roar of the crowd was clear.

  “The ones behind, up on the walls and steps and on the overpass, will think the police and Army are shooting unarmed people. They’ll tell the rest.” Harold was saying it but Sharyn could probably follow the eddies in the seething crowd as the news spread. Then most of the mass was moving forward. Those in front were fighting to get away and just briefly the whole mob stalled.

  Then more shots tore into the front of the crowd, more of the riot police went down at the same time, and the juggernaut ran over them both. The only benefit was that any gunmen in the crowd were too busy staying on their feet to shoot. The camera was zooming in here and there, or the controller was flicking from one camera to another as rioters and police died. There were close-ups of ordinary unarmed men and women going down and under the front of the crowd without the rest slowing at all.