by Vance Huxley
“Hi there. I’m Cherry Pie.” Harold blinked, startled, and the Barbie laughed at him. “How much do you know about us?”
“Barbie Girls. Female. Blonde wigs. Nutters. Have a shopping mall and a really firm way with shoplifters. Handle with care.” Harold smiled to make at least part of that a joke.
Cherry Pie laughed again, pointing at Harold. “Soldier Boy. SAS. Has a tank. Can shoot the tits off a mosquito. Good beer and stew.Castrates rapists. Do not annoy.” She looked around. “I’m here to clear up any misunderstandings, because you might have something we want.” Cherry Pie looked Patty up and down. “Maybe more than one thing.”
Harold glanced at Patty. She grinned, so he put up his hand for the high-five. “You win.” Harold looked back at the Barbie. “Patty said you’d offer her a job.”
“I didn’t. Not yet but if, Patty?” Patty nodded.”If Patty wants a change of scenery, she’ll be welcome.”
“If you’re going to poach staff, we’d better get comfortable.” Harold gestured to the other two Barbies. “Do they know the rules?”
“Oh yes. No effing and blinding, no groping anyone without asking, and if they start a fight someone might finish it with a crossbow. It would be boring if it wasn’t a complete novelty.” The other two headed towards the canteen for a beer, and to look at some fresh talent, according to one. Harold led Cherry Pie inside the Embassy.
He invited herto sitwhile Sharyn asked if the Barbie wanted a drink. “Beer please. It’s the best around here. Who’s the brewer?” Harold laughed and the Barbie laughed back. The female gangsters were always after names but everyone avoided giving them,just in case the nutters came back to kidnap them.
“Do I call you Cherry or Pie?”
“Cheeky. Soldier or Boy?”
“Harold.”
“F... Blimey, that’s informal. Aren’t you afraid someone will take the piss?” Harold mimed aiming a rifle. “Ha, yes, do not annoy.” The Barbie sat down where indicated, turning to grin at Patty who sat a little behind and to one side. “Well since we’re informal you can call me Cherry,even if I mislaid mine quite a long time ago.” She waved at Patty. “You can call me what you like, and any time.”
Patty smiled back, shaking her head. “I lost my cherry a long time back as well, but not in a way you’d be interested in. Ask Chandra.”
“She warned me, but she reckons some of yours are a bit friendlier after a couple of drinks.” Casper had followed them in but now Tessa arrived. Cherry looked from Tessa to Sharyn to Patty. “How many women have you got, Harold?”
“One.”
“None.”
“Two.”
“Depends how you count.”
Harold had answered none, so he quickly sidetracked them all. “Business first. Then gossip, dirt, winding people up, all the good stuff.” He wanted to know why a different Barbie had come to trade. Cherry had the blonde wig and the relaxed, confident attitude all the top Barbies showed, but Orchard Close usually did business with Chandra. The Asian-looking Barbie,who wore ascanty version of a silk dress, usuallycombined business with visitingLouise, her girlfriend. “You are unexpected and definitely different to the usual visitors, apart from Chandra.”
“Ah well, it’s all to do with names. Cherry Pie, for instance.” Cherry looked from Tessa to Sharyn. “Did either of you ever have Barbie Dolls?
Tessa’s smile looked nostalgic. “Yes, the one with a horse and one with a few frocks.”
Cherry twisted to look at Patty. “I suppose you had Action Man?”
“Cindy dolls.”
“Ouch. Bitch.”
“Backatcha.”
Cherry laughed, turning back. “I like her. If she ever wants a change of scenery, please let me know.” She glanced around at the others.”If any of these ladies had real taste in dolls, they’d know that the different Barbies had different names. If we climb up the ranks far enough, we get a new name. A Barbie name.”
“So Malibu, Christie, Ken and Chandra are names of Barbie dolls?” Harold checked but his friends looked as surprised as he was. “There was a Barbie called Cherry Pie?”
“There’s a long list, believe me.” Cherry stared as Jeremy, armed with a shotgun, came in and sat in the corner. “Whoa. Am I that dangerous?”
“No, that’s because Harold should have one other bloke in the room.” Casper smiled at Cherry’s quizzical look. “I wanted a Barbie, the one with the pink car.”
Cherry looked round the room and everyone nodded. She eyed up Casper’s muscles. “I heard about the big gay bloke, but didn’t realise just how big you are. The Pink Panthers would love you.”
Casper’s curled lip was impressive. “Not me. I like to wear my frillies inside my jeans, and I’ve got past my thing about pink.”
“Fair enough. We’ve got a couple like you and they don’t fancy moving to the Pinkieseither.” Cherry turned back to Harold. “The names mean I’m far enough up the ranks to talk seriously. I’m here because we want to have a real chat to your radio man.” All the banter stopped. Harold had mentioned more than once he’d talk if the Barbies stopped trying to steal Trev, but never expectedit to happen.
Eventually, as Cherry continued, he had to believe she meant it. The Barbies wanted someone to decide if the transmitter could be fixed, and had been asking around all the neighbouring gangs.Even if the Barbies couldn’t identify Trev, they’d worked out the Orchard Close radio man would be their best bet. An offer of twenty biros and a dozen writing pads, just for a first opinion, underlined how keen the Barbies were. Both were rare and expensive, and almost extinct outside of a Mart. The school would want them for teaching kids to write, so Harold agreed Cherry could call in her expert to explain properly.
Cherry made a radio call and a few minutes laterthe Barbie radio expert, called Skipper, walked down the road from the traffic island and presented herself at the main gates. She wore a red striped jumper and leg warmers, and carried a transistor radio, but unusually for a Barbie, didn’t carry any weapons.
After Trev put on a balaclava and Skipper allegedly put on her special knickers,the pair were put in a room with chaperones. While they talked, Harold came to a tentative agreement with Cherry Pie. If Orchard Close made a bit of electrical kit that the Barbies could use to fix the transmitter, the Barbies would part with musical instruments, sheet music, and maybe some CDs from the shops in Beth’s. Regardless of the transmitter repairs, Cherry wanted to trade for the live music the GOFS had been playing on the border. She agreed to trade sheet music for Jilli’s recordings, because it had been years since anyone heard a new singer.
Trev, still in his balaclava, sounded relieved to get away from Skipper alive. Barbies were his own personal bogey-women, so even when he came into the meeting he sat as far from Cherry Pie as possible. According to what Trev had just been told, the transmitter must be a complete mess. He’d need pictures on a phone before giving any sort of opinion. Cherry agreed she’d get as many as possible, but then she tried to get pictures of Patty in return. According to the Barbie, if Patty wore all her weapons but less clothes she’d attract more Barbie customers for Orchard Close.Trev looked ready to pass out at the thought of more Barbie visitors.
“Off you go, mystery radio man.” Harold made it a joke but he had no intention of letting the Barbies find out Trev’s name. They’d be tempted to spirit him away in the night.
As Trev left, Cherry leant back in her chair and looked around the room with real anticipation.”Now that Skipper’s had her jollies, it’s time I got some fun out of it. Who gets to give me the down and dirty on how a Soldier Boy counts women?”
Sharyn volunteered to enlighten her. Cherry looked suitably impressed when she found that one of the women really was Mercedes. The Barbies knew of Mercedes and her rules through the GOFS, and one had seen the public part of her visit but only at a distance.Only that one Barbie had ever seen the Killer Queen,because the Hot Rods and Barbies never usually met. Cherry Pie repeated what Mack had told Har
old; anywhere outside Orchard Close the Barbies killed Hot Rods on sight. The Hot Rod soldiershad also told the GOFS about Soldier Boy getting eyes on, and some sort of hands-on, but it was all rumour.
Now Cherry sat looking from Tessa to Harold with a very quizzical smile, because Sharyn included Tessa on the list of women. Harold sat with a gang boss smirk, as expected, and hoped he didn’t blush.”So, are you his woman or not?”
“Depends on if Mercedes is here.” Tessa beat Harold to an answer, and shut him up completely. If he argued, he’d have to explain buying her. Worse, if he tried to stop the whole conversation, Tessa, Patty and Sharyn would ignore him because they found it funny.
“Very tolerant of you, and probably a good idea.” Cherry frowned, looking from Harold to Tessa. “Let me get this straight. Mercedes is a stone-cold killer,everyone agrees on that, and no bloke gets to touch. But you”—she pointed at Harold—”have not only seen her stark bloody naked, according to the Hot Rods themselves, but she lets you grope her in public?”
“No comment.” It took some doing but Cherry Pie finally accepted she wasn’t getting a blow by blow account. It helped when Patty and Tessa finally realised that Harold reallyhad dug his heels in, and stopped teasing. Harold didn’t mind his friends teasing, but Cherry Pie and the rest of the Barbies would embroider anything he said and spread it far and wide. He didn’t want Mercedes thinking he’d been bragging, orgiving whatever ‘details’ the Barbies invented.
Cherryhad already spoken to one eyewitness account of the visit, the Barbie.”Okay, I get it, a gentleman. Even so, what our lass saw was a gold plated invitation at the very least. When does she move in?” Cherry looked around, suddenly wary. “Is she already here?”
“Mercedes is killing Murphies, but after that, who knows?” Harold shrugged, managing to look indifferent but only because Mercedes wasn’t anyplace nearby.
“Bloody hell, Caddi will go crackers. It couldn’t happen to a nicer bloke.” Cherry put her hands up as if aiming a rifle. “Keep in practice.”
Harold did his gang boss bit. “Yeah, no problem. Anyway, it might never happen.”
Cherry Pie smirked and turned to Patty. “If he plays hard to get, knit her a dress like that one of Chandra’s. There’s girls in Beth’s saving coupons for one, because when Chandra wandered down the main drag wearing it the place came to a dead stop. Can you knit a cheaper version? Just thin wool because that clings in all the right places.”
“Maybe. Do you mean just plain knit, because the lace stitch will be expensive regardless of the pattern.” Patty glanced at Harold, but he indicated she should keep going. Bodyguard or not, he didn’t want to turn down business. After a quick discussion, Patty had orders for one cream and two black dresses, short, tight and hot as hell, once someone brought the sizes.
Cherry came back to the radio deal, or to the number of deals that might go through GOFS territory. The GOFS tolerated a few crates of beer or a bit of knitting, but they’d want a cut of any increased trade. Since Cherry wanted blank CDs as well, if Harold could prise any out of the Geek Freeks, she eventually agreed to pay a fee if necessary. As the visit wound down, one thing still nagged at Harold. “You said you were here because this is serious, but Chandra usually deals with serious business. I’ve met other Barbies as well, ones with wigs,so are you telling me they aren’t important?”
“It doesn’t get more serious than Malibu, Christie and Ken. The problem is they all met you elsewhere, so they couldn’t assess this place properly. The soldiers that come for a beer like this place, so they aren’t exactly reliable as judges. I never even met Doll, so I’m a clean pair of eyes. Maybe a little bit biased, becauseof those rabbits you sold us.” Cherry swept her hand round to include everyone in the room. “I’m supposed to get a read on your top people, while the other two assess your place, your people and the setup. Chandra has rose coloured glasses, because she’s got a severe attack of lust.” Her wry smile came back to Harold. “Now I’m impressed by the Mercedes thing and your bodyguard, so I’m not quite neutral either. Even so I’ll recommend doing real business, long-term.”
They chatted about types of business while Cherry finished her beer, then claimed she had to go before Patty seduced her into staying.Harold phoned the canteen to let her soldiers know,so they could finish their beers. As he said goodbye Harold saw Skipper, and learned that the original Skipper doll also wore atight, red striped jumper and leg warmers. She complained loudly about not getting a chance to show the radio man her special knickers,which fitted perfectly with the usual Barbie style. The four climbed into their SUV, driving off withrock music blasting out.
The car stopped by the ruined houses close to Caddi’s watchers,and Harold realised why Cherry hadn’t been worried about Skipper waiting outside the walls. When four heavily armed Barbies came out of a garage, riding two quads,Harold wondered briefly if the Hot Rods were still alive. Once the music and motors faded in the distance, one of Caddi’s men cautiously crept out to check they’d really gone.
Tessa came to the gate, standing with Harold while thecar left, and walked back up the road with him chattering about the radio. Asthe news spread, a good few people in Orchard Close seemed excited about getting Barbie Radio fixed. The Barbie transmitter could punch through the government interference, so their manic mixture of slander, gossip and heavy rock had made a welcome change from the BBC. As rumours grew, Trev even had to confirm that the damage didn’t sound like a government hit squad.
The radio interference that isolated the city made everyone a bit paranoid, as did relying on the BBC for any news. The Barbies might not be the best of neighbours, but their transmitter had let everyone know about the local gossip, and any wars.
May
Precinct Nineteen / Dudley Zoo:
Miles away to the west of Orchard Close, someone waited to welcome his neighbours. The enclaves were two miles apart, but the Zookeepers had promised to show Precinct Nineteen a very secure direct route. The man in a tattered police uniform, watching a canal tunnel entrance, wasn’t totally convinced. He changed his mind as sunlight gleamed on metal in the entrance, quickly speaking into his radio. “Six-one-three here. Contact. Send fifteen because he was right.” The man paused then fumbled a phone out of his pocket, raising it to take a short video clip. “You really should be here to see this.” The prow of a canal barge had appeared from inside the tunnel, followed slowly by the rest of its forty-foot length. David, 613, stared at the sandbags across the front of the superstructure, blocking any windows there. The portholes along the side had steel shutters with slits. As he watched, weapons poked out of them.
A loudspeaker blared. “Ahoy there.”
A startled David ducked, putting his phone away before standing again, slowly. He kept his stubby automatic rifle pointing down at the ground, because now he could see the sandbags didn’t cover the front windows, not quite. Familiar looking tubes poked out here and there, two of them centred on him. David raised his empty hand in greeting, speaking calmly despite his silly grin. “Ahoy there. Did you come all the way underground?”
A hatch on the top of the boat clanged, and David registered that the whole thing must be made of steel. A man showed his head, cautiously. “Ahoy yourself. My name is Teddy. This is one of the longest canal tunnels in England, dead handy if you’ve got a boat. I’m supposed to meet someone called ‘fifteen’.” The boat had cleared the tunnel now, revealing a second one being towed behind.
“He’s on the way, unless you keep going and meet him?” David stuck out a thumb. “Can I hitch a lift if you are?”
“We’ll wait, then if it all goes wrong the third boat can tow us back out of trouble.” The man smiled, but it had a bit of an edge to it. “You probably wouldn’t enjoy following us in the dark for two miles.” The boats stopped with the towed barge just clear of the tunnel, but the taut rope behind it told of another still out of sight.
David nodded agreement. “We’d all be blind with the muzzle flashes, a
nd shooting back at them. We’d probably end up falling off that footpath.”
Teddy showed him a tube with a small metal bottle attached. “What muzzle flash? We’d use hypodermic darts. Worse, for you, that footpath doesn’t go all the way.”
“Ouch. Do you want to come ashore?” David gestured around them. “My squad have the area well covered so it’s safe.” He stopped, listening carefully, then an incredulous grin spread across his face. “Is that a pig?”
“Sort of a piglet, but not as you know it. We’ve brought young tapirs, African boar piglets, two types of antelope and two types of deer. There are zebra foals and buffalo calves as well. That’s why we didn’t come sooner, we had to wait until they were weaned.” Teddy looked down and sniffed. “We’ll be pleased to off-load and clean up.”
David stared, completely gobsmacked by the list. Sarge had said the Keepers at Dudley Zoo might swap live animals for weapons, and expert advice on using them, but all these? “How can you spare so many?”
“We have to let the animals breed to keep the milk coming, but usually kill most of the young because we haven’t enough grazing. You have plenty of land and can help us defend a bigger area, so we’ll both eat better.”
David managed to croak, “Milk?” He shook his head, speechless. He’d risked his life, time after time, to get the thin crap the Marts called milk. Now this bloke had just delivered the African equivalent of a herd of cows.
“Hello Six-One-Three. One-five is here.” The radio brought David back to himself. He snapped back into his role.
“Send One-Five in. I’m by the tunnel entrance.” A flicker of humour touched his face. “With the Ark, Six-One-Three out.” As he waited for the sergeant to arrive, the ex-police constable decided to volunteer if these people wanted guards and training. A real zoo would be a sight to see these days, even if he didn’t fancy a two-mile boat trip in the dark. David thought about what these people must have gone through to keep the animals alive since the Crash. Sarge had said they were bloody paranoid about even letting him close enough to talk, and no wonder.