by Vance Huxley
Last Man Standing
Fall of the Cities – Book V
BY
VANCE HUXLEY
This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this eBook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.
© 2019 Vance Huxley
Published by Entrada Publishing.
Printed in the United States of America.
Table of Contents
Overview
1 Midnight Mayhem
2 Chasing an Ambulance
3 Early April
4 Out-Sneak the Sneaky
5 Fuel Me Once, Fuel Me Twice
6 Mid-April
7 Offers and Options
8 The Gathering Storm
9 Heavily-Armed Nutters
10 Payback
11 We Battered Few
Character List
Dedication
To my Noeline and to the Joy of my life
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my editor Sharon Umbaugh,
for turning my words into a book worth reading.
My thanks to Rachel at Entrada
for all her hard work and encouragement.
Overview
Four years ago, a global conspiracy, the Cabal, activated their plan to destroy and replace significant governments, diminish global pollution, replace fossil fuel with sustainable power sources, and reduce global populations to sustainable levels. The Cabal succeeded in destroying or disrupting many major governments world-wide, while gaining tenuous control of a large percentage of the most powerful armed forces. What the plotters failed to take into account were the large number of groups and individuals who were only kept suppressed by the targeted governments. The ‘terrorist’ attacks used by the Cabal were copied, then surpassed, by a global wave of violence and destruction.
The Cabal gained total control in some areas, influence in others. Elsewhere a series of deliberately instigated pandemics and nuclear exchanges left huge areas virtually uninhabited. Five billion people died in a few months of chaos. The figure matched predictions but many of those who died weren’t the targeted demographic, the less profitable members of society. Both warfare and starvation continued as the global population plummeted. Instead of matching populations to food production as planned, whole regions had no farmers and very little remaining population. The first strike wiped out half of global oil refining capacity, the super-refineries, but then uprisings and terrorists burned ninety percent of the remainder. All over the world, ships and trucks carrying food ran out of fuel and ground to a halt.
* * *
Now, four years later, Russia and China have devolved with large areas ruled by warlords, either those sponsored by the Cabal or the opportunist leaders of military units. The cities and most towns are deserted, with the remaining populations fighting over food and fuel. Those few with the skills to grow their own are often killed during food raids. So far, most of the major national naval units and air power are obeying orders from surviving government officials, all Cabal members. All such forces have been confined to their bases, allegedly to conserve fuel and defend their families. With their countries in turmoil, most service personnel are happy to do the latter.
In North America, simultaneous strikes by legitimate cargo or passenger planes packed with explosives decapitated the Canadian and USA governments, destroying Congress during a joint session. Central USA government disintegrated as the White House, and the national headquarters and computer backups of the armed forces, FBI, CIA, and DEA were targeted by explosives and dormant computer viruses. All cities are now mostly deserted, with control generally reverting to states backed by remnants of the National Guard. Militias have seized control of large areas, especially those with local ethnic or religious majorities. Cabal agents provoke incidents and atrocities, while stoking religious, racial, and political prejudices. In stark contrast, the few areas under secret Cabal control are relatively peaceful. Progress in subduing the remainder will be slow, because a large proportion of the armed forces are still intact. The personnel are confined to their bases by the surviving national government, controlled by Cabal agents, but will react to wholesale attacks on civilians. The Cabal are content to wait until the civilian population have finally used up their huge stocks of ammunition.
Africa, the Middle East, India, Pakistan, Japan, Taiwan and South-East Asia suffered limited nuclear exchanges, religious wars, and deliberately released plagues, with large areas now quarantined. Electricity, clean water and fuel are now virtually non-existent, leaving the survivors trying to survive the subsequent famine in near-Stone Age conditions.
Central America has become a battleground. Initially the governments held on using armour and air power, but as the fuel ran out a combination of rebels, disillusioned police forces and starving populations swept away the outnumbered soldiers. The United States rescued battle-hardened Israeli soldiers and pilots when their homeland became uninhabitable, offering them a new home if they defended the southern United States. Repulsed by armour, artillery and dug-in soldiers, the Mexican gangsters and civilian mobs rebounded before turning on each other. After four years of continual fighting, fuel and ammunition are vanishingly scarce in the area between the USA battle lines and the Panama Canal.
In direct contrast, Australia, New Zealand, the smaller Pacific Islands and South America up to the Panama Canal quickly fell under Cabal control. With their surplus populations removed, food supplies stabilised, and both electricity and fuel supplies reinstated, these areas are now preparing to ‘liberate’ their neighbours. With other major navies confined to port, these navies effectively control the seas, assisted by refugee French, Italian, Spanish and South American warships.
Despite decades of planning, large areas of the globe were largely depopulated rather than culled, and the death toll continues to rise. In many places the survivors of terrorist cells and freedom fighters still fight each other, and the remnants of national armies, while demolishing the rest of their country.
* * *
North of the Equator, the only real Cabal success came in the UK, possibly because of the relative lack of firearms among the civilians. In the rest of Europe, the survivors of governments, mostly Cabal members, initially confined the majority of their populations inside the cities. When the fuel ran out and the transport system failed, worldwide, the starving citizens and the refugees in camps broke out. Joined by some elements of local armies and police forces, the hordes rampaged across the continent, desperately searching for food. As the survivors concentrated on the western ports, they died. Europe became a wasteland, almost depopulated except for a few communities founded by ragged bands of survivors.
The Royal Navy, reinforced by refugee warships from Europe, held the Channel, keeping the starving millions out of the UK. During the crisis, the UK Cabal took their opportunity to seize control of the UK government. Despite that success, Cabal control relies on the British Armed Forces never realising their orders come from usurpers. The Cabal is still cautious, worried that the population will realise the surviving government (fifty-three elected Members of Parliament) take their orders from a mere dozen conspirators.
Suitable members of the UK population were resettled in rural areas, where the farms and revived fishing fleet could feed them. A succession of riots were instigated, then inflamed, so that city after city fell into anarchy. After using the Army to stop the riots, the new government conf
ined the shattered and shocked survivors in their ruined cities. Despite the meagre medication and inadequate food supplies in the Marts, and the numbers of gangsters and warlords preying on the survivors, the trapped ‘undesirables’ refused to die. Worse, from the Cabal’s point of view, the survivors of one massacre took to the Scottish Highlands, launching raids into previously pacified areas.
The Cabal always knew they would need force to finish the cull, but the British Army would mutiny if ordered to kill women and children. As soon as the conspirators seized power, paramilitary groups previously used to support the Army were swollen by thousands of new employees, many of them ex-prisoners. These forces cleared the countryside and the smaller towns and villages, either resettling or processing the occupants. The first Cabal attempt at clearing a city, by closing the Marts around London, didn’t starve the population as expected. The Paramilitaries succeeded in clearing two minor cities by force, but only after the inhabitants were flooded out or tricked into evacuating large areas. These difficulties proved that the undisciplined, poorly-trained mercenaries will not be capable of clearing the remaining cities on their own.
Remnants of various European armies, especially those with armour, have been recruited with promises of a safe haven for their families. The newcomers quickly clear the next city, Inverness, using experienced troops with armour and refugee European pilots. Since then the rebels in the highlands are keeping the European mercenaries at bay, but the Reivers will not survive much longer against armour and air power. Once those rebels are dead the Cabal will use their new mercenaries further south, to clear London. Time is running out for the survivors in London and the other enclosed cities.
* * *
Since the initial chaos, four years ago, the remnant populations in the UK cities have reorganised. The ruins are divided into areas called enclaves, petty kingdoms in effect, controlled by fighters living in fortified estates or suitably defensible buildings. Government buses escorted by armour issue coupons to registered citizens at these enclaves. The coupons can be exchanged for goods at the government-controlled Marts around the perimeters. Free electricity is maintained, and mains water to prevent pandemics. With the minimum for life supplied free of charge, the majority population remain passive, not realising they are destined for extinction.
A minority of the enclaves enjoy varying degrees and types of democracy, though their numbers are falling. In the rest of the enclaves, hooligans, car thieves, pimps, escaped prisoners, petty thieves, or just groups with sufficiently loose morals, set themselves up as latter-day feudal lords. With organised crime obliterated in the riots, these bit players found themselves suddenly handed unprecedented power. In a parody of the American films they’d seen, the new rulers invented gang names, adopted appropriate symbols to mark their territory and extorted goods and coupons from the unarmed survivors living nearby. Many surviving residents are now treated as serfs or worse, a convenient source of coupons, food and sometimes women.
The wire fences and sandbagged Army posts around the cities keep the inhabitants penned up, but the inhabitants don’t consider the Army the enemy. Providing nobody shoots at them, or openly carries a rifle or shotgun, the soldiers are content to watch. The real danger to the inhabitants comes from adjacent enclaves, hungry for territory or loot. Many enclaves have treaties with their neighbours but sentries still patrol their walls, watching the surrounding darkness though infra-red scopes.
1 – Midnight Mayhem
On the south-eastern edge of Birmingham, close to one of the British Army posts, lay the fortified enclave called Orchard Close. The original population of forty ordinary people ran for their lives, fleeing their city centre just before the protests and riots. Banding together under a discharged Army clerk, this group took over several empty houses, trusting the nearby soldiers to provide some protection. The plumber, clerks, electrician, ornamental metalworker, gardener, and their neighbours fortified their cluster of houses as best they could, and somehow survived the bloodbath when the initial city-wide riots met the Army.
Now heavily fortified, Orchard Close is still guarded by ordinary men and women who have become experts with their mainly medieval-type weaponry. The defenders also work in the surrounding half-mile wide strip of gardens, growing most of the vegetables needed to feed three hundred and twenty-two people. Devoid of trees, walls or buildings, the farmland doubles up as a killing ground for the crossbows, muskets, and a selection of modern firearms scavenged or captured over three years.
Tonight, Orchard Close may be facing their greatest threat to date. Their leader Harold, now known as Soldier Boy and allegedly a rogue SAS sniper, fell in lust and then in love with Mercedes, the Hot Rod assassin. The attraction was mutual. The Hot Rods’ gang boss, Caddi, objected and arranged to have Mercedes gang-raped. The three men succeeded, but Mercedes killed them. Then, as so many abused women had done before her, she headed for sanctuary—Orchard Close.
While Mercedes healed from her abuse, Soldier Boy and his people waited, bracing themselves for whatever Caddi decided to do next. The Hot Rods had almost won their war with another gang, the Murphies. As the days passed without any reaction, the Orchard Close residents started to hope that Caddi would be occupied with ruling his new conquest and forget about Mercedes.
* * *
After five days on high alert, the guards in the houses on each side of the gate into Orchard Close (the only way through the walls) had lost their edge. “Crikey Trev, where did all the chocolate come from?” Doll, the cheerful blonde commanding one of the squads of fighters, smiled happily as she accepted the steaming cup. “Just the thing for the chill. Did you win the pools or something?”
Trev, the Orchard Close radio repairman, smiled nervously. “A present from Caddi, really. I bought it at the Mart, with the extra coupons I charged Caddi for all the work on his multimedia. Since I’m no good at fighting, I thought I should show my appreciation. You bloodthirsty lot are all that keeps me safe.” He scurried off across the road to the other guard house, carrying a tray of steaming mugs.
“I’ve got mine under false pretences.” Doll grinned at Alfie, another squad leader. “I’m off shift, so I’m going to curl up with this then have a snooze. Wake me up if someone starts a war.”
“The Hot Rods have got more sense. It’s blooming freezing out there.” Alfie, a heavily-muscled teenager, blew on his mug. “I’d leave this to cool while I checked on the guards, but Hazel would nick it.”
“A proper boyfriend would give me his chocolate.” Hazel hugged him, not easy with all his weapons and the steel-plated jacket he wore to turn crossbow bolts and machetes. “At least I can kiss you here, because Uncle Harold will be tucked away at home.”
“Unless he’s loading more bullets or mending guns.” Doll yawned extravagantly. “I’m off. If you argue over chocolate, keep the noise down.”
“Sit with me and drink your chocolate, Alfie. You can check the wall in a few minutes.” Hazel yawned and patted the seat next to her. “I’m knackered as well. Five nights now. How long will we be keeping this up?”
“Until Harold is sure Caddi isn’t coming. He should nip over there and shoot the bastard, then we could all get some sleep.” Alfie sat with Hazel while she finished her chocolate, smiling when she snuggled in and dozed off. He really should check the guard. Alfie caught himself as his head nodded. Cripes, it was catching up with him as well. Maybe hot chocolate wasn’t such a good idea. Alfie’s head nodded forward again. He jerked up at a clatter and stared, wondering why a mug was laid on the floor, then realised it was his. The chocolate! He pushed at Hazel but she didn’t stir, and as he looked around Alfie could see that every guard in sight was fast asleep. Trev! The other guardhouse! Alfie staggered to his feet, reaching for the field telephone but crumpling before reaching it.
A few minutes later a man’s head peeked around the door. He turned back, keeping his voice low. “Out like a light. Flash the signal to get the rest of the blokes over the wall. I
’ll check the other guardhouse.” By the time the Hot Rod scout came out of the other guardhouse, a score of men were busy gagging and tying up the sleeping guards.
“Hey, it’s that blonde, Doll. Give me a hand to get her kit off so we can get a picture. Leave her cowboy hat and boots on.”
“Leave her you twat, or Caddi will cut your fucking nuts off. We’ll all get pictures later, and Caddi said there’d be a lottery for who gets to fuck her before he sells her to the Mart guards.” The Hot Rod pointed to one of the unconscious guards. “Just so you aren’t tempted, put on one of those armoured jackets and a skirt and patrol up and down the wall.” He laughed at the look on the man’s face. “You know these blokes wear an armoured skirt over their jeans, so just do it.”
As the gangster left the guardhouse, grumbling about the skirt, more gangsters came over the wall. These quickly split into small groups, heading out into Orchard Close with their weapons padded to stop any noise. “Do you reckon it’ll work?” Golf, the Hot Rod in charge of capturing the guardhouses, pointed after one of the groups. “It’s too complicated. We should take all the guardhouses then just tell the rest to suck it up.”
“Caddi wants to be sure, and he doesn’t want to kill anyone if possible. He wants all these fuckers working for us instead of taking our coupons. If someone decides to be a hero he wants to have everyone like the brewer, the smith, the plumber and the doctor safely under control.” The gangster glanced at the telephone near the door. “I hope they get the exchange as well.”
“As long as they get the brewer and the rabbits, and enough women to go round. A pint, a bird and a burger will do me.” Golf checked out of the window. “I think all our blokes are inside the wall. We should start now, before someone hears an odd noise or looks out of the wrong window.”