Regeneration (Mad Swine Book 3) (19 page)

“It’s just the way you left it,” she
said.

When Providence made their deal with
Randall Oaks, she and Kat were adamant that no one move into my
home, and Phil had respected their wishes. For three months, my
home stood empty, my memories untouched by strangers.

I pulled Sam into a hug and kissed
her. “Thank you.”

“Hey, I want in on this,” Kat
said.

Letting Sam go, I turned and hugged
Kat.

“You guys get some rest, too,” I
said. “A lot is going to happen tomorrow and I need you both at
your best. Goodnight, ladies.”

“Goodnight, sweetie,” Sam said.

“Goodnight, boss,” Kat said.

I left the two lovers
together—suddenly I felt a wave of loneliness sweep over me and I
missed Lara something fierce—and found Brian and Tammy napping in
the makeshift waiting area. The wooden chair upon which they sat
looked quite uncomfortable and the tent did little to keep the cold
at bay, but that had not stopped either of them from grabbing a few
winks.

After leaving the interrogation
trailer earlier, Brian insisted on having Tammy looked over by
Ravi. Aside from the bruise on her cheek, Tammy appeared in good
health. She must have bathed at some point; her hair was a lighter
brown than I remembered. All of the tangles combed out, her fine
hair fell softly across her shoulders. Someone had given her fresh
clothes. She wore a thick, brown cable knit sweater and tan
corduroy pants. She looked like a completely different woman, more
like one of us than someone who belonged to a gang of blood-crazed
bikers.

Watching them with their heads
nodding back and forth, I considered letting them sleep, but in the
end, I woke them. Honestly, there were memories in my home that I
did not think I could face alone. Together, we left the medical
tent and made our way up the familiar hill that led to my home.

As we passed Harper’s Knoll, I
stopped a moment and looked on at the grave markers. “There’re so
many of them now,” Brian said.

He held Tammy’s hand, their fingers
intertwined. At first, I didn’t quite understand the relationship,
or the speed at which it seemed to develop. But as I watched them
together on the hill, I understood. This was a lonely world, where
those we had loved were gone. And we all needed someone to survive.
No one could make it alone anymore.

“Are those your people?” Tammy
asked.

“Most of them,” Brian said.

To me, Tammy asked, “Is your family
there?”

I shook my head. Brian must have told
her about what happened to my wife and children. I was suddenly
angry with my brother. What happened to my family was my own
personal hell; it was not his to share, certainly not with a
stranger.

Sensing my change in mood, Tammy
said, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not my
business.”

After a brief pause, I said, “Some of
them were like family to me.” There was no harm in her question,
after all. She did not deserve my anger. Besides, she’d been
through her own personal hell, too.

“My wife is buried in the rose garden
at the house. My kids…I buried them in front of the church where
they attended school.”

We were all silent again, pretending
to look at the markers. Some of the dead from the earlier attack
lay wrapped in blankets or sheets along the road, waiting to be
laid to rest. This place may not have been their home before the
outbreak, but it had been their home for the last three months, and
they had died defending it.

Brian put an arm around my shoulder.
“Come on, dude. Let’s go home. We have lots to do tomorrow before
we leave and I’m beat.”

The house was cool and dark, but I
knew my way around, even if I closed my eyes. Up the stairs, twelve
of them, carpeted. To my right, the living room. The chair and a
half on my right, sofa, leather table in the center. I felt for the
matches, found them where I imagined them, and lit the two
candles.

The fireplace was cold, covered in
soot from my last fire, which seemed like an eternity ago now.
Several books strewn on the floor. My blankets still folded on the
sofa, my pillows neatly set on top.

Without conversation, Brian took the
second candle, and then he and Tammy retreated to the lower level
family room, where Brian had once made his home. I suddenly
realized how quiet it was. None of the normal noises, like humming
appliances, ticking clocks, or clicks and clanks of mechanical
equipment.

Candle in hand, I walked part way
down the hall and stopped at the threshold of my children’s room.
Mark and Katy had shared a room, although Katy had complained that
she was getting too old to have a roommate. The dim light of the
candle revealed the two twin beds, both made up with their colorful
quilts and bed linens. Atop Katy’s dresser, a slew of My Little
Pony figures lined up, like sentinels, guarding her tween secrets
from the prying eyes of little brothers.

Mark’s desk, busy with stuff, but
neat in spite of the clutter. His tablet lay among his collection
of Disney’s Car’s, still plugged into the wall where he’d left it
to charge so he could play when he returned home from school. His
baseball glove, perched atop one of the bedposts, seemed to waive
at me.

Turning away, starting to feel the
crush of the weight of those memories, I continued down the hall,
to my bedroom. The door stood closed, as I had left it. After my
wife died, I could no longer bear to sleep in there. Now I turned
the knob and pushed the door open, listening to the sweep of the
bottom of the doorframe against the carpet. For a moment, I stood
outside, looking in, not entirely sure I could cross the
threshold.

On the wall beside me, Alyssa smiled
back at me from one of our wedding photos. She looked flawless in
her wedding gown. We posed, cheek to cheek, faces turned to the
camera. I could still smell her perfume if I thought about it. I
closed my eyes, imagining her scent. I opened my eyes, and saw Mark
and Katy on an amusement park ride. It was some sort of kiddie
coaster. The picture captured them just before the ride dipped.
Their arms raised above their heads, smiles stretched ear to
ear.

I touched the cool glass, the tips of
my fingers outlining their small faces. Without warning, I saw Katy
and Mark in their classroom, their small hands clenched together,
their flesh torn, dead eyes looking up at me. They were just so
young. Just babies. They had not yet lived life; there was so much
they had not yet experienced. But they were gone. Resting beneath
cold soil outside St. John’s Church.

I entered the room and stopped just
inside. The light of the candle revealed the hole in the carpet and
the bare wood beneath. It was the spot where my wife lay dying
after my brother shot her in the head. An act of mercy before she
could become one of the creatures.

Getting down on one knee, I touched
the bare wood, irrationally afraid that my fingers would come to
rest in a sticky pool of blood. Instead, it was just cold wood.
Alyssa’s body was resting outside; buried beneath the rose garden
of which she had been so fond. She did not haunt this room,
although she still haunted my memories.

Standing, I placed the candle on the
dresser to my left and blew out the flame before I could glimpse
myself in the ornate mirror that hung above. I went to the right
side of the bed, my side, and sat at the edge. Slowly, I lay my
head against the cool pillow and pulled my feet up onto the bed. I
stared blankly into the darkness of the open bathroom.

Earlier today, Tammy said that we all
needed people to survive in this world and I never felt as alone as
I did right now. I missed my wife and children so much. I missed
Lara, too. At that moment, my heart ached for companionship. I
closed my eyes, wanting to escape into sleep, and I did.

But there were nightmares.

* * *

I woke early from my disturbed sleep.
My head and neck were sore and I was exhausted, but I could no
longer stay in bed. The house was still so quiet and I felt
unnerved. I couldn’t shake the deserted feeling. Brian and Tammy
were still asleep when I left and headed over to check in on Kat
again and to make sure things were off to a good start this
morning.

In the tent, I found Ravi stretched
out on a sleeping bag, only the top of her head was visible. It was
a cold morning, but not the stinging cold we experienced just
months ago. Kneeling beside her, I gently touched her shoulder.

She woke immediately, struggling for
a moment to get free from the confines of the zippered bag.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” I
said.

“Oh my goodness, I was having such
horrible dreams,” Ravi said, finally sloughing out of the blanket.
She hugged me fiercely, pulling me down to the cold ground with
her.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
When she released me from her hug, I sat crossed legged beside
her.

“I was dreaming that something bad
happened to you. That you never came back to us.”

“I had the same nightmare about what
might have happened to you all here. I imagined so many bad things,
but imagine my real surprise when we arrived only to find
Providence moved in.”

Ravi laughed. “I’m sure that threw
you for a loop. Trust me, when Kat first suggested the arrangement,
we thought she was crazy. But it worked out for the best. I’m not
sure we would have made it through the winter without them.”

“Where is everyone? I’ve only seen
you, Kat and Sam since I’ve been back.”

She was silent for a moment. Ravi did
not like to talk about those we lost or those she could not
save.

“We lost Paul two months ago. Without
dialysis, he suffered end stage renal failure. He was in so much
pain but he hung on for as long as he could.”

“He was good man,” I said. “Our lives
would have been so much more difficult without his ingenuity.”

Ravi nodded. “Robert and Kara’s baby
took ill with pneumonia and whooping cough. I could do nothing
without the proper medicine. The baby died after three nights. The
following night, Robert took Kara’s life and then his own.”

“Oh my God.”

“That really hit everyone hard,” Ravi
said. “Without Reverend Reggie, I don’t know if we would have kept
our sanity. He helped us keep our faith.”

“Where are Reggie and the rest of
them?”

Silence again, as Ravi gathered
herself.

“We lost the others, in one fight or
another, one time or another. We lost two more just yesterday when
those maniacs attacked us.” She looked away now, perhaps not
wanting to see the hurt in my eyes. “Reggie stays in the old CP.
He’s in a bad place. Somewhere in helping us keep our faith during
the winter, he lost his. I don’t know how to reach him; my religion
is science. I wouldn’t know what to say to him.”

I shook my head but had nothing to
offer. Sometimes in life we find that in our worst times, we can
only help ourselves. Perhaps leaving this place, reuniting with
those who were once his flock, would be all the strength he would
need.

“What about Albert and his family?” I
asked, changing the subject. “Did they make it back here?”

Ravi tilted her head and looked
confused. “What do you mean back here? They were with your
group.”

I told Ravi about how Chandra was
killed and that Brian blamed Sanchez and how they left during the
night. “They didn’t leave a note or anything. When I woke, they
were gone. We just assumed they would head back here.”

“They may have, but they never made
it,” Ravi said. She put her cold hand over mine. Her dark skin was
covered with Mehndi drawings from her knuckles to her wrist where
they disappeared beneath her sleeves. “Whatever happened is not
your fault, that’s on them.”

I said nothing but simply nodded my
head. Although it was not my fault, I would still carry the weight
of guilt. I was the leader, all the bad was on me.

Before I started down that dark road
of pity and self-doubt, I said, “I need to know you’re with me on
this, Ravi. Some of these folks, they’re just not going to make it.
They’re dying now, they’ll die on the road, they’ll die no matter
what we try to do. We can’t take them with us.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m not the same
woman I was six months ago. This world has made me hard. I don’t
like the woman I have become, but it is who I am and I know what
needs to be done. I will live with the consequences as you live
with them. I am with you.”

“Thank you,” I said. I stood, then
reached out a hand to Ravi and helped her up. “We don’t have much
time. I need to you to mark everyone who can move on his or her own
with a green tag and those who need transport with yellow tags. The
ones that won’t make it mark them with red.”

“I’ll need some assistance,” she
said.

“Get whoever you need to get it
done,” I said and left the tent. The morning sun was bright, much
too bright for the frigid snap of the morning cold. I found Phil
and Crystal, the woman from the post, standing around a metal trash
bin, warming beside the fire that burned within.

“Good morning,” I greeted them as I
approached.

“Morning,” Phil said.

“Good morning,” Crystal said. She
cupped her hands to her mouth and blew on them, then splayed them
out in front of the fire again. “Did you bring us some coffee?”

I smiled and said, “That should be my
question. I’m the guest here.”

“Hardly a guest,” Phil said.

“That was some good work out there
yesterday,” Crystal said. “I watched you from my tower and I was
quite impressed. You certainly know how to handle yourself.”

I shrugged, finding it difficult, as
usual, to accept a compliment. “We all could have done better. We
lost some folks out there.”

“We would have lost more if you
weren’t here,” Crystal said. “Trust me.”