Last Man Standing

by Vance Huxley

  “I’m afraid you can’t come closer without being searched.” The captain pulled a face because he knew what came next.

  “Certainly, if you have a woman here to search us.” Tessa looked at the captain steadily. “Surely you are safe from two unarmed women, especially surrounded by all these soldiers?”

  The captain grunted and gestured. “I’m sure those men down there underestimated your women. None of the men up here will. The Riot Squad?”

  “Yes. In case some gangster causes trouble, starts a riot. After all, it’s not like anyone else will come to help us, is it?” Tessa saw the tiny flinch and smiled. “Now can we sit down please? This young lady is injured worse than me, and I am both bruised and tired.”

  At least the captain switched to a new victim. “Sergeant. Can you vouch for these two?”

  “Yes sir, though I am confused.” Sarge would have let it ride, but if this all blew up he was already deep enough in the shit.

  “Why?”

  “Well, I thought this one was Harold’s girlfriend.” He pointed at Tessa. “Then the other one turned up and, well, she seemed a lot more than friendly. She kissed him out there in front of all the residents and a visiting gang. Harold didn’t seem to be fighting back.” Sarge looked from one to the other, definitely confused. “Now they seem to be friends.”

  “Typical bloody gangster. What did you think to that?” The captain had turned back to Tessa.

  “I felt very happy for Harold. He was a good friend to my man when they were in the Army, then he’s been a good friend to me. I pretended to be his girlfriend because it stopped some girls offering. Because he was a gang boss. Then Harold met this young lady.” Tessa glanced at a stone-faced Mercedes. “It was difficult for her, with Mercedes being a member of another gang. The gang boss thought if anyone should have her, well, you know. He was a gang boss.”

  “That wasn’t stopping her, according to the sergeant. So what do we call you? What is your gang name?” There was rank sarcasm in the captain’s voice, and Tessa responded without thought.

  “I am called Apprentice. It’s a joke. This young lady is the Killer Queen. That isn’t a joke.” Tessa saw the suspicion flare.

  “Perhaps we should search her at least.”

  Tessa tensed as she heard the click behind her, and the sergeant’s eyes widened in alarm. Harold’s stick! “Mercedes, no. There is no need. You can leave.” There was a pause, and then a different click and Tessa relaxed. She saw the sergeant relax again as well.

  Tessa looked the captain in the eye. “That won’t happen. Mercedes will not be searched because she will leave first.” She tried to keep her voice level but the disgust leaked through. “The scroat thought gang rape might make her amenable. Instead she escaped to Orchard Close, so he came and tried personally. She killed him. Only one man touches Mercedes. Harold.” Tessa’s voice softened, because…. “Or he did.”

  “If she’s a victim, how did she get a name like Killer Queen?”

  Tessa straightened and glared at the captain. “I answered your question as you asked it. The real answer is that I am Tessa, this is Mercedes, and Soldier Boy was called Harold by everyone who lived here. Ask Sarge.”

  “True sir. He was always referred to as Harold by the residents.” That was true, but the sergeant wasn’t sure what he should call the young woman with Harold’s stick. He’d heard the click and knew what it was; then Sarge looked in her eyes. He’d thought she was going for it, just for a moment, because he saw why someone had named her Killer Queen. Then the other one, Tessa, had pulled her back from the edge.

  Sarge kept a very close eye on Mercedes while Tessa talked to the Captain. “Now can we sit or shall we go back down? I have people dying down there because we have no proper doctors, and there are still bodies to recover, or dispose of. We also need to patch our roofs before it rains, and we still haven’t dug out our men.”

  The captain turned and called, and an open Land Rover drove up. “I believe you could sit in there without anyone needing to be searched. Sergeant, could you arrange tea for the ladies?” Tessa actually saw the sergeant’s sigh of relief.

  Tessa thought the officer had remembered he was dealing with two young women, or had just decided they weren’t real gangsters. It showed in his attitude, though despite the relaxation there were still soldiers nearby watching every move. Tea arrived, and the officer perched on the bonnet of the Land Rover to talk a lot less formally. Sarge stood nearby and, Tessa realised, watched Mercedes.

  The Army, in the form of the captain, wanted to talk about weapons. The amount of firearms, especially automatics, very especially Army automatics, worried him. Tessa explained that they had found two Army weapons so far and an AK 47. The automatic weapons were out of sight because armoured cars and soldiers were pointing weapons that way. Trigger fingers might twitch if automatics came in view? The captain arranged to have the weapons pointed off to one side, so Tessa promised to arrange a handover.

  The captain got down to serious bargaining. “What about the rest of the weapons, especially all those rifles and shotguns? We saw some, and the drone saw more but they’ve disappeared now. I’m sure there are others tucked away.” He pointed over the top of Orchard Close, towards the farm. “We know there are more automatics in those houses.”

  “We are moving everything that is outside before it rains on them. We’ll give up the long guns and the automatics of course, but regardless of the quantity the rest of the weapons are legal. I’ll give you a couple of hundred pistols if we can keep a few shotguns and rifles, those you haven’t seen, for self-defence? After all, there’s still a city full of maniacs out there, and some will think we are weakened and try to take advantage.” Tessa fully intended keeping a lot of shotguns and rifles, as well as some automatics, but wanted tacit approval for at least some of them. She’d already sorted out well over two hundred reject pistols, and there’d be more.

  The bit about someone taking advantage brought both scowls and smiles from soldiers, until their NCOs glowered at them and faces and backs straightened. The captain wasn’t convinced, but he conceded that there wasn’t a limit on numbers of legal weapons. His problem was that if the Army responded as he had here, with armour, his superiors expected results, captured weapons and a body count. “The high body count and reports of the initial firing and number of combatants should be matched by large numbers of confiscated weapons. The bean counters will be curious if I don’t produce enough.”

  Tessa made her decision, hoping the others would agree. “We’ll hand over a stack of firearms including rifles and shotguns, literally hundreds of them, along with a stack of ammunition. Some are damaged but there will be working ones as well, enough for your bean counters. You’ll get all the automatics and their ammo because we daren’t risk one going off this near to the Army. The captured crossbows and machetes will buy us medicines and dressings from the other gangs, so we’ll keep them all.” Tessa gave everyone a bright smile. “We’ll give you all the weapons instead, in exchange for an Army medic and medical supplies? We’ve got five or six hundred knives at least, none of them legal pre-Crash.”

  “I doubt our bean counters will care how many are in what condition, because we’ll scrap the lot. Except the automatics of course.” The captain paused, looking genuinely sorry. “The decision with regard to fraternisation and medicinal aid was taken at a much higher level, too high for me to risk any relaxation. Even if I did, I’m not sure what the Army would do with five hundred big knives. They are considered somewhat low-tech these days.”

  Mercedes had been very good, keeping her mouth shut, but now she chipped in. She pointed Harold’s stick towards the tattered Union flag still above Harold’s house. “We fight under the same flag so we aren’t the enemy. In fact, if anyone in the Army has two brain cells, there are some terrific lasses down there who’d make wonderful Army wives. Some of them will make good soldiers.” Tessa saw Sarge smile slightly at that. He’d lose that smile once he knew
about Rihannon.

  A soldier called out. “Sir. There’s something happening down there.” Heads turned as everyone tensed and rifle barrels came up.

  “What the?” That more or less summed up most reactions on the bypass, but not Tessa’s nor Mercedes’. There could only be one reason for the dancing and cheering and the woman doing cartwheels down the road! The Riot Squad, those near enough to have heard whatever it was, were grabbing GOFS, Barbies or each other and hugging.

  Tessa looked at the captain with her eyes shining and a smile breaking. “They’ve found survivors!”

  Mercedes stood up but paused, poised to run. Only the rifles half-pointed her way stopped the young woman from racing off down the access road. “’Arold.” Sarge saw her eyes come alight, the pure joy in her smile, and he really, really hoped that her ’Arold was alive. Otherwise the disappointment would probably kill her.

  “Sir.” When the captain looked over, Sergeant Stokes pointed at the Land Rover. “Perhaps we should give them a lift back? That might be her boyfriend, and she’s wounded. Running won’t help that leg.” Or her ribs, he thought, because he’d been watching Mercedes and seen her moving and wincing.

  “Yes, but they’ll need an escort.” The captain smiled to take the sting out of it. “So that we get the vehicle back?”

  Without hesitation, Sarge moved towards the Land Rover. “Vaugn, Meredith, get in there. Now!” Two young men rushed forward. “Vaugn, stand on the back.” Sarge leaned in close to Meredith and said something quietly. The young squaddie looked startled, then eased into the rear seat keeping well clear of Mercedes. She was still standing and jiggling slightly. Sarge took the driver’s seat, smiling at Tessa. “Hang on tight luv. Perhaps your friend should sit down.” As Mercedes did so, Sarge set off down the road with a squeal of tyres.

  * * *

  Harold coughed and pain lanced through his arm, shoulder and his head. “’Arry? Bloody ’ell, I thought yer were a goner.” That had to be Mack.

  Harold got an eye open but it was dark, or almost dark, because he could see a glow in one corner of the cellar. “What happened?” That came out more like a croak. He could feel the grit in his mouth and throat.

  He heard a short laugh nearby, then Harold managed a smile as Casper spoke up. “I got a cripesing crossbow bolt through the same cripesing leg is what happened. I’m having it taken off and a wooden one fitted. Apart from that, all hell broke loose. The shelling stopped a long time ago but then we heard some shooting. Faint, though, and it stopped a while back. I’m a bit worried, Harold.” Casper sounded more than a bit worried. “Most of us are wounded, but it might be a bad idea to try and dig ourselves out. The light is where we’ve been looking at the stairway. We think the lot will come in if we try.”

  “Artillery? Who used the Army rifles?” Harold meant to use them, because almost certainly fatal wasn’t a job to give someone else.

  “Alfie. Er, it’s Josh here. Alfie told me to piss off and get Casper down to the cellar.” There was a lot of sighing down here. “Hazel died at the gate, so I don’t think Alfie intended coming down here anyway.”

  “We blew the stairs when we heard the front door coming in, and then the house walls when the shells started exploding, just like you said.” Casper coughed, a harsh rasping noise. “Bloody hell, Harold, we only mined the corners. I thought the roof would come down!”

  “The house roof did, which was the idea. The cellar roof might not have held up but it was our best chance. Best way to stop shells though, a heap of bricks. They even let air through.” When Harold coughed again someone offered a water bottle. “I can’t move my arms enough for that.” The bottle pushed against his lips so Harold washed out his mouth and took a drink. “Thanks.”

  “Bloody dust,” someone muttered, while coughing agreed with him.

  Harold didn’t want to know, but. “How many? How many made it?”

  “Seven in ’ere ’Arry. There were nine but Finn and Big Johan didn’t last long.”

  “The kids will miss his juggling.” Harold didn’t recognise the voice, rough with emotion and dust, but it wasn’t a bad epitaph for Johan. The low number came as a shock as did losing Finn, one of the originals. He’d only stayed on the wall in case the electrics were hit. That left nearly sixty unaccounted for, though some had insisted on defending the perimeter houses until they were killed. Hopefully more survivors had made it to the other two cellars. On the other hand seven survivors might be a success, considering how many gangsters had come over the walls.

  “Hush. I can hear digging.” Absolute silence fell since everyone seemed to have stopped breathing.

  Hope flared in Harold’s chest, because… “Mercedes. She promised to dig me out.”

  Mack didn’t sound as sure. “Ssh. Maybe.”

  “Who else would dig?” The house collapse option should have been a close-held secret.

  “Marge. Sorry ’Arry, but I told ’er.”

  “It’s all right, Mack. I think Rob told Susan as well. I daren’t tell too many though, in case one of them was caught alive.” Nobody had any illusions about holding out if the gangsters started questioning. “Patty will kill me.”

  “If it’s our lot. If the lunatics caught Rob, or Matthew?” Everyone was whispering and now there were clicks as weapons were cocked.

  Harold cut them off. “Don’t shoot or it’ll burst your bloody eardrums in here. Keep quiet and listen.”

  The light went out, everyone waiting in darkness as the noises came closer. Whoever it was knew where to dig because the noises were coming down the stairway. There were faint voices. Everyone tensed because those sounded like men, then dust trickled and someone shouted. “There’s a hole here.”

  “Yes, I told you. It’s a cellar.”

  “Marge! Marge! It’s me with ’Arry and Casper!” Gunfire might have been quieter! The shout was followed by silence and then….

  “That’s my Albert! Come on, get that lot moved. Albert, are you all right?”

  That was the wrong voice! Harold was sure that Mercedes would have been digging if she could. He tried to sit up. “Mercedes?” A red-hot poker flexed in Harold’s shoulder as the darkness closed in.

  * * *

  This time there was light. Light and… “’Arold? Are you awake?” Soft lips on his and then a giggle. “Yes, those are working.” Harold opened his eyes. He knew he was grinning like an idiot, despite his pounding head, because a few inches in front of his eyes were a pair of sparkling, happy brown ones.

  The eyes disappeared as breath warmed his neck and ear. “Both arms, ’Arold, and your head, but it’s all right. Everything’s all right. I’m going to have to bathe you.” There was another giggle. “And you are absolutely filthy so it will take ages.”

  “Give me a minute, Mercedes. Let me do the medical bit and then you can get back to the morale boosting.” Patricia’s smiling face appeared. “Though the report is about right.” Patricia gave a little laugh. “Technically you can use your right arm even if it’ll hurt, so you can bathe yourself.” There was a protest behind her. “Though I don’t think it’s optional. Now be a big brave soldier while I look at your head.”

  “Don’t worry, ’Arold. The GOFS and Barbies are here. They chopped up the General’s mob when we chased them out of here.” From her tone of voice, Mercedes probably lost the sparkle in her eyes for a moment. “Ken and Vulcan feel guilty about being late, so they’ve promised to exterminate the survivors.” As Patricia moved back Mercedes swooped in for another lip check.

  Harold closed his eyes with a sigh of relief and a smile. He knew the butcher’s bill would be horrendous, as would the damage, but Orchard Close had survived and there weren’t any serious enemies left. Even a weak enemy could take Orchard Close at the moment, probably, but the GOFS and Barbies were dealing with that. The pain in his head pounded away until Harold felt a needle in his arm. “Sleep now Harold, while Lenny fixes you up. Don’t worry, your nurse isn’t leaving.” Another gentle kiss
followed him into his dreams.

  Character List

  ORCHARD CLOSE ENCLAVE

  Harold (Harry) Miller - 24: ex Corporal pay clerk CGC Conspicuous Gallantry Cross.

  Aaron – 28: One of Roy’s friends, an experienced fighter

  Abigail – 26: From the north

  Abraham – 53: Oldest refugee - from Murphies

  Alfie – 19: Probable orphan since his Mum disappeared. Living with Betty.

  Alicia – 25: Small woman who retreats into herself.

  Ant - Anthony – 26: Ancient weapons buff. From Murphies

  Barry – 65: Ex-firefighter - ran from Geeks with granddaughters – designs bombs

  Bernie – 30: Leads scavenger teams and makes bombs – Sal’s ‘Wojer Wabbit’

  Berry – 20: Daughter of Nigel. Taller, stronger, and also a brewer. Seth’s girl

  Bess – 23: One of the first refugees – Matthew’s woman

  Bethany – 23: Gnome Sweet Gnome - has some very bad memories

  Betty – 62: Older woman on the Coven, an original resident

  Beverley – 17: Lumberjill. From Murphies

  Billy – 20: Resident of flats, possibly Suzie’s bloke

  Casper – 24: Big well-muscled gay man who becomes Harry’s friend and bodyguard

  Celine – 29: Slim redheaded typist. Shy - rape victim. Canes gangsters for therapy.

  Charlie – 34: Home appliance repair man, builds windmills for generators

  Chris – 30: One of Roy’s friends, an experienced fighter

  Conn – 26: Short slim man, prematurely bald, Lillian’s bloke

  Curtis – 28: Short, stout gardener, Emmy’s bloke, now outside the city in a work camp

  Daisy – 8: Harold’s niece - hyperactive

  Doll - Dolly – 23: Barry’s eldest granddaughter

  Edward – 6: Eddie - Little Ed - Tessa’s son

  Elise – 15: Reclusive, traumatised refugee