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  The Asian woman, Hangaku, turned to scowl at Shiner. “The Headmaster makes sense. No poaching, right? If enough of us sign up, we can chop any smartarse that gets out of line.”

  “Let’s divvy the land up now and share the livestock after the fight, the two-legged sort as well.” Odin unrolled a big sheet of paper, an old poster showing Sutton Park including the main landmarks and buildings. Around the park edges, the border with each of the gangs had been drawn on. He used his hammer to weigh down one corner and a couple of machetes and a knife were donated for the others. “They’ve got bigger fields than those twats on TV, the ones with the women that shoot.” He grinned acknowledgement at a bleached blonde with a shotgun, they had some women here who could shoot.

  “Can we talk to the residents before everyone rolls in and starts shooting?” The Headmaster shrugged at the jeers and comments about being scared of farmers. “We trade text books from our college for food so they’ll listen to us. If they’ll agree to a takeover without a fight, everyone gets their meat and we’ll all save ammo.”

  Shiner spoke for several others. “Yeah, but that also warns them.”

  “Give us an hour, once everyone is ready. That’s not long enough for them to set up anything effective.” The Headmaster, the boss of the Hard School, stared the objectors down. “I don’t give a shit how many of you lot die, but I’ll be pissed if the fish expert or cow midwife gets killed in the crossfire.”

  “The Headmaster has a point, Odin. Some of these aren’t exactly accurate.” Hangaku, leader of the Yakuza, sneered at several of the noisiest gangsters. “We each keep whoever lives in our section, right?”

  “Except the cow midwife and other experts, we share those.” The Headmaster leant back in his chair after giving the rest one last sour look. “Or we’ll end up fighting over that.”

  “As long as we get our share of the women.” This speaker, dressed in jeans and a motorbike jacket, leered at the women present.

  Hangaku put a hand up to her sword hilt. “Your blokes probably won’t notice or care if they get a cow, Kurt. Better yet, I’ll geld you all now so you don’t have to bother.”

  Odin glowered and banged his fist on the table. “Cool it, Hangaku. You promised not to start trouble.” The Asian woman subsided with a smirk as the eleven gangs settled down to wrangle over borders.

  *

  Mid-morning the following day, deep inside Sutton Park, one of the park residents looked out of a window as shots rang out. The woman’s eyes opened in alarm as someone started banging on an iron bar. She turned to her husband. “That’s the alarm, Wilf! They’re coming. Oh shit, oh Christ, Wilf.”

  In the distance a bell clanged, another of the groups in the park calling for help. “Oh my God Chrissie, the trader was right, the others are being attacked as well. The council thought it was a con, to get us to surrender to that bloody Kurt and his Studs. Run like the clappers to the old railway station, the Hard School and the Yakuza are over that way.” Wilf pointed out of the window, then reached down and picked up his bow. “Here they come. I’ll try to slow the Studs up for a few minutes, then offer to surrender. The Trader from the Hard School said they want us alive.” He opened the door but paused before leaving. “I really hope so.”

  Chrissie hesitated, but another flurry of shooting made up her mind. “Try to get away later, if you can. I’ll ask to join the Yakuza. Love you.” She kissed him quickly before running out of the back door, snatching up her coat as she went. Minutes counted now.

  *

  Across the two-thousand-four-hundred-acre park, variations on the scene played out again and again. Most residents only put up a token resistance, just to give their women and children time to run or hide. One group of park residents had more in common with Kurt and the Studs than their neighbours, but fought harder than rest. “No fucker takes us over, and definitely not some slant-eyed bitch.” This man checked his handgun and scowled. “She’ll free the women for starters, then either carve us up or give them fucking knives to do it themselves.” His eyes passed over the six weeping women sat on the floor along one wall of the room. “I’ll shoot these bitches before I let that happen.”

  “We can try to make it to the area the Studs are taking? Come on Slade, they might steal our women but won’t mind us raiding for more.” The skinny young man with a deep scar across his nose scowled at the women. “Better yet, why not leave these for the Yakuza and just run. Women will slow us up.”

  “Fuck off Nosy. You might be right about the women slowing us, but I’m not leaving them alive to tell tales.” He raised his weapon and gunshots roared.

  Nosy looked down at Slade’s body, then at the shocked women. “It ain’t that I care a shit about you, but that Yakuza bitch would hunt us down if it took ten years.” He bent over Slade’s body, stripping him of weapons and ammunition. “Tell that bitch Hangaku I don’t want no trouble. I just want to join a different gang, right?” Several nodded mutely. Gunfire sounded outside, across the wetland. “Crap. I’m gone. Keep yer heads down, right?” Nosy crouched and headed out of the rear of the house, calling to several other gang members.

  *

  As the liberated women stared at Slade’s still-bleeding body, across the park other residents were hoping to survive without any bloodshed. Beside a long, narrow lake, a man helped three women climb into a rowing boat. “Shiner and his men are a rough bunch, but once the fighting is over they shouldn’t mess with the women. It’s just that I’d rather you don’t risk it, not for a few hours after they’ve won. Pull the boats up out of sight and hide in the trees over there. Watch for a signal.” The middle-aged Asian man looked back over his shoulder, to where his friends were setting up a defence. “We’ll wait until the Skins’ women arrive. Shiner’s missus won’t let their blokes mess you about.”

  The last woman to board hugged him. “Don’t fight too long Asif, all right? Don’t make them mad at you.”

  “We won’t have to if you get gone. As soon as all the boats are hidden, we’ll stick up a white flag.” Asif pushed the boat, and the women began to row as fast as possible. He turned away, heading through the cluster of buildings to the line of men with weapons.

  An older man waved him towards one end of the line. “You’re the last, Asif. Remember, we just need to pin them for a bit where none of them can see the lake.” He fixed a couple of the younger men with a stern glare. “Try to do it without killing, or even wounding if possible. It’ll just make them worse.”

  A teenager reluctantly lowered his crossbow. “I’ve got it, Jer. Are we firing the meadow to slow them up?”

  Several men, erstwhile wardens looking after the wildlife in the park, looked at each other. None looked keen, so Jer shook his head. “Not unless we have to. There’s nesting birds in there.”

  “Fair enough.” The wardens nodded agreement. Despite the Crash, none of them agreed with wanton destruction of habitat, and so far they’d managed to preserve most of the breeding areas. Luckily, the area around the park had included a good proportion of middle-class housing, rather than slums with gangs. Many of those inhabitants left one night through a gap in the Army cordon. Most of the rest went in a fleet of buses to demonstrate in the city centre. Neither group came back. Even the mob that eventually rampaged through the area had ignored the park, more interested in looting and burning houses and shops.

  There had been a short honeymoon before the local gangs grew large enough to be a threat. That had been long enough to prepare, especially since the local criminals and delinquents were a bit more civilised than many shown on the TV. Now the gangs had combined, and a few park wardens weren’t going to stop them.

  *

  By midday the firing died away, even where the park residents had decided to fight it out. In the old railway station, eight gang leaders met up as planned. Hangaku sheathed her sword after saluting the Headmaster. “You were right. We’ve got at least a score of women who don’t belong here, running to get clear of the Studs or the
other two.”

  A bleached blonde nodded. “We’ve all found extra people in our sections, mainly women and kids. Those three will demand we hand them over as part of the livestock. Have you all thought about what the Headmaster and Hangaku suggested?”

  The Headmaster took his cue to repeat the message. “There’s a nasty bastard called Conan over the other side of the city, across the motorway. He’s building an empire, so unless someone stops him he’ll head this way sooner or later. When that happens, the Studs or one of the other two gangs would sell us out. They’re his sort of shithead, and there’s only one cure.” His hand rested on a pistol.

  Odin nodded, as did Shiner, then Hangaku, and one after the other the rest followed suit. Angel, the bleached blonde, checked over her pump action shotgun. “You were right. It’ll have to be done sooner or later. Best done now while we’ve got all our fighters together.”

  Hangaku smirked and reached up to tap her sword hilt. “You all know I’ve been looking for the chance to sort out Kurt, so this is going to be a real pleasure.”

  “Just remember, Hangaku, Shiner is on your side now.” Laughter greeted the Headmaster’s last comment as the eight gangs split into three groups and set off for their new targets.

  *

  The Studs were settling into their section of Sutton Park, unaware of the meeting in the railway station. “Hey, Kurt, I thought we were gonna get a shitload of fresh women?” The unshaven, acned youth in a leather jacket scratched his crotch. “I’ve got an itch and there ain’t enough scratchers to go round.”

  “Try one of those sheep, Putz, or a cow.” Kurt sneered at a middle-aged woman cowering in the corner of the room. “She ain’t up to much, but you can have her after I’ve trained her up a bit. At least she’s told me where the rest are. The bitches ran to the Yakuza or the Hard School.” He turned to Putz with a grin. “They don’t realise they’re livestock under the agreement, so the slant-eyed bitch will have to hand them back. I wanna see her fucking face when the rest agree and she has to suck it up.”

  “What about the blokes? If they hadn’t fought so fucking hard at the start we’d have caught more women. Three of our blokes were hit by those fucking arrows.” Putz pulled out a knife. “We want to use a couple as an example, just to encourage the rest in the future.”

  “We wait until we see what we’ve got then yeah, we’ll carve up a couple of the useless ones. That’ll blood the new blokes as well, see if they’ve got the balls to join us.” Kurt paused, because at least one didn’t really need testing. “That Nosy seems to have brass ones. He shot his fucking boss and brought six men, all armed to the teeth.”

  The acned youth scowled as he sheathed the knife. “As long as that’s not a habit, shooting the boss. Do the new ones get to share?”

  “Only when the missing women get back. Until then it’ll keep them hopeful.” The gang boss turned back to the woman. “C’mon you, I need something scratched.” Kurt waved towards the stairs, then slapped the woman when she didn’t move. “That’s your first lesson, bitch. Move it.”

  *

  Putz never had to decide between sheep and a cow. A short time later a storm of gunfire erupted outside the front of the house, interrupting Kurt’s teaching. He cuffed the woman at the side of the head. “Remember where we go to.” The Studs’ leader looked out of the bedroom window where four of his men lay on the track, bleeding out or dead. Motion caught his eye. Nosy and three of the new men were running away towards the nearest trees. “You bastards.” Kurt ran down the stairs, drawing his gun as more shooting broke out. He stopped dead. “Fuck!”

  “I always said you were armless.” Hangaku stepped out from the side of the stairs, bloody sword ready for a second strike. Kurt clutched his wrist, blood trickling between his fingers as his handgun fell to the floor. She inspected him slowly, with a mocking smile. “Yup, armless and clueless.” Three more Yakuzas came through the door, their blades dripping. They all wore big smiles. Behind them, two more Studs sprawled in pools of blood.

  “The rest will carve you a new one. We had a deal.” Kurt couldn’t understand it. If Hangaku broke the agreement, the others would plough the bitch under. An icy trickle ran down his back as Kurt realised that didn’t mean he’d live to see it.

  “We made a new deal. The ones with some sort of bloody morals did anyway.” Kurt turned at the voice, staring at a grinning Shiner. He opened his mouth to point out that Shiner didn’t have morals, he was just pussy-whupped, then realised the usual jibes might be a bad idea.

  Hangaku laughed at his expression, pointing her sword at Kurt’s groin. “I intended carving you a new one, but you’ve still got your pants on.”

  “Kill the bloody animal.” The naked woman at the top of the stairs, covered in small cuts and bruises that were still swelling, glared at Kurt. “Beat the bastard to death, give him some of his own training.”

  “I’ll loan you a knife?” The Asian woman pulled a short blade and offered it.

  “Or if you prefer beating?” Shiner offered his baseball bat, after using it to prod Kurt clear of the stairs. “Put your clothes on, and come down when you’re ready. This arse isn’t going anyplace.”

  The woman remembered she was naked, using her hands in a vain attempt at modesty. “He tore them off or cut them.” She turned away from the stairs. “I’ll find something.”

  As she went out of sight, Shiner prodded Kurt again. “Come on you, drop your belt and leave it. I reckon your girlfriend will want the knife. Let’s go and see if any more of your mob survived.”

  Kurt stumbled outside in some sort of a daze. Three of his men knelt in the street, one clothed and two in underwear, but the five others in sight were sprawled out, unconscious or dead. As Kurt looked around, Nosy staggered into view, followed by a bleached blonde with a shotgun. She grinned at Hangaku and prodded her captive with her gun barrel. “You said this one got a pass so we saved him.”

  “You back-shooting fucker! You let them in.” Kurt reeled, his hand going to his head as Shiner settled the bat back on his shoulder.

  “Manners, Kurt. That was the first bit of your training, Skins style.” Shiner sighed heavily, in mock exasperation. “He did nothing, you dumb fuck. Your blokes were all either at the women or complaining they hadn’t got one. Half a dozen ten-year-olds could have taken the lot.” The skinhead gang leader eyed up Nosy before turning at Hangaku. “What happens with him? He’s part of your livestock under the agreement.” A startled Nosy glanced apprehensively from one to the other.

  “Slade and his mob had six women locked up, and he was going to bury the evidence. This bloke saved them so he gets one pass.” Hangaku smiled happily, indicating the bleached blonde. “He can join Angel’s Valkyries, or my Yakuza, or your mob. Then if he’s a good boy, he’s clear.” She switched her gaze to Nosy. “Your choice.”

  Nosy flinched at the first two options before staring at Shiner, or at his clothes. “Do I have to wear that gear and shave my head?”

  “Yeah, if you don’t want the blokes to pick on you, or if you ever want a woman to come near you.” Shiner glared, hefting the bat. “Their option, right?”

  The scarred man shrugged. “It’s a life, and better than the other options. What happens to these?” He looked at the four live Studs.

  Hangaku smirked at the blonde, Angel, then at Shiner. “I reckon he should prove he means it.” She nodded towards the clothed Stud kneeling in the street. “He’ll do. Give your new man a machete, Shiner.”

  “In a minute, the locals get first crack.” Shiner whistled, raising his voice. “Hey, bring all the ones we rescued.” A crowd of cautious men with a few women came down the track from both directions, shepherded by members of the Skins, Valkyries and Yakuzas. Ahead of them staggered four battered Studs, one bleeding heavily.

  Behind Kurt a door opened. He cringed as a voice spoke up. “I found this knife at the bottom of the stairs. Now I want my piece of that shithead.” Five minutes later Kurt’s erstwhile victi
m felt better, if a bit ill, as did several others in the crowd. Kurt and all his men were face down in the street.

  “That’s all the nasty shit done with, as long as you burn or bury the bodies. Any of your people who ran will be coming back, unhurt. Now if you all gather round we’ll let you know which gang you belong to, and where the new boundaries are.” Hangaku held out her hand for a Yakuza to pass her a map. “We’ve drawn a new version.”

  *

  Conan:

  Ten miles west of Hangaku, still inside the northwest borders of the ruined and largely depopulated city,a small, democratic enclave slept peacefully. They had guards, but some had been drugged so the inhabitants had no hint of the predator stalking them. A violent gangster known as Conan, encouraged and provided with information by Cabal agents, wanted to add them to his growing empire. Just upstream from the enclave’s sleeping guards, a raft floated down the nearby canal, using only the current. Derelict housing and warehouses, silent and eerie in the half-light, lined the banks. To maintain the silence, the passengers fended off any obstacles using their hands, as did the dozen men on each of the other two rafts.

  When the man at the front pointed, the raft swung in until willing hands caught hold of the timbers of a short pier. The heavily armed invaders swarmed ashore, careful not to let their weapons clink, some of them quickly tying and gagging the drugged guards. Conan, a heavily muscled, bearded man carrying an axe, pointed as the other rafts emptied, directing small groups of fighters towards their objectives.

  A voice rose in alarm but the men crouched, waiting. Another voice shouted before gunfire echoed from the east, a diversionary attack beyond the walls of this small enclave. Shouting spread through the buildings as the residents roused, while anyone already awake ran to their walls to repulse the attack. Conan stood upright, raising his crude battle-axe. “Barbarians, take them!”