Regeneration (Mad Swine Book 3) (3 page)

The former residents of Randall Oaks
were not the only ones tasked with learning new things that first
month. As we were learning skills needed to sustain the farm, we
were teaching the Finnegans the art of war, teaching them the
skills they needed to help defend the farm from invaders, whether
alive or undead. From the youngest on up to mama Cleona, the
Finnegans were taught firearms and tactics from Brian, while Justin
taught them close battle with blunt or edged weapons. Lara taught
them patrol movements and formations and we ran drills for
different attack scenarios.

I coordinated schedules with mama
Cleona and Maureen, combining our work and security details to
ensure everyone had time to train and learn their new crafts, while
still ensuring that we were keeping watch and protecting our
interests in land and family. Each day I grew closer to these women
and to the Finnegan family. This was true for all of us. Finnegan
Farm started to feel like a home for us all, and as each day went
by, we all began to feel like one large, extended family. We felt
safe here and as each day passed, Randall Oaks felt more like a
distant memory.

* * *

One night, near the end of January, I
stood outside the communal kitchen, looking out at the stars that
were so clear in this part of the world. The night was quiet save
for the sounds of those gathering the dishes and cleaning up after
our meal. It was cold, but not the biting cold that drove us
indoors seeking warmth and safety.

I took a drag from a homemade
cigarette—once again thankful that Old Man Finnegan had grown his
own in the garden—and from the corner of my eye spotted movement on
the porch of the main house. I watched for a moment as Maureen and
Stanley stood together, looking out at the stars. They held hands,
and Maureen laid her head against his left shoulder; on his right
slung a Remington 700 rifle. The two were an item now; it was not
really a surprise considering the immediate attraction between them
when they first met. However, those of us that knew Stanley thought
him incapable of a relationship as he only cared about himself, and
put his needs above all else. Nevertheless, Maureen was a strong
woman and she was good for him; with her firm but gentle nudging,
Stanley was slowly becoming less self-involved and supportive of
our group efforts.

“That’s so sweet,” Lara said, having
snuck up on me.

I offered her the cigarette, but she
shook her head wrinkled her freckled nose.

“Stanley’s a different man now,” I
said.

Lara nodded her head. She huddled
against me, wriggling her way under my arm. “Less creepy and
more…attractive…in a middle-aged, balding man sort of way.”

I looked at her from the corner of my
eye and she laughed and snuggled her head against my shoulder. In
her plush white coat with faux fur around the hood, she reminded me
of Princess Leia on the Hoth planet.

“Don’t worry, I’m all yours, Romeo,”
she said.

“I was never worried.”

Behind us, the kitchen sounds ceased
and we were left with just night sounds and the wind. After a few
moments, Maureen and Stanley traded the cold view of the stars for
the warmth of the fire in the main house.

“It’s Karaoke night,” Lara said.
“Tonight is Billy Joel night, aren’t you excited?”

“Sure.”

She looked up at me now and gripped
my arm, giving me a light shake. “What’s up, bub? You seem a bit
distant.”

After taking a last drag on the
cigarette, I flicked it into the snow. “I’m fine. Just thinking
about who is out on patrol tonight.”

“Well it’s not you or me, so let’s
enjoy our night off.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said after a
long pause.

“Good. And I promise you, later
tonight I’ll give you something really pleasant to think
about.”

“Can’t wait,” I said and slapped her
on her behind. “I’ll meet you inside. I’m just going to get
something from the bunk house.”

She kissed me on the cheek and
started toward the main house. After only twenty or so paces she
turned around and said, “Go check on whomever is on duty, then get
your butt back here. I mean it, mister.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. We’d
been together for a short time, less than a month, but she seemed
to know me so well already. She was a hell of a woman and I didn’t
know what I’d do if I lost her. I never thought I could love
another woman as much as I loved my wife. At times I felt like I
betrayed Alyssa, or that I was dishonoring her memory, and that of
my children.

Lara was a smart woman; she must have
known what I was going through. She never tried to pry it out of me
or forced me to share my feelings with her. Instead, she would give
me my space or try subtly to drag me out of my funk by offering me
distractions, like the pure, unadulterated fun of Billy Joel
Karaoke night.

During the day, the work was long and
hard, and I relished the activity because it kept my mind focused
on the task. But at night, when all was quiet and everyone was
winding down from the busy day, I started thinking about the past.
Not just about my wife and kids, but about Charlie, Bob and the
other friends that we lost to Providence. I thought about Kat and
Sam, Ravi and Paul and the others we left behind at Randall Oaks. I
thought about Bruce and Anne Marie who died during our first attack
on the road.

When I closed my eyes at night I saw
Chandra, her dark skin glistening with sweat as she died in my
brother’s arms. Liam Finnegan. Al Sanchez, his wife Araceli and
daughter Belinda were missing and presumed dead. And Ray, torn to
shreds in his wheelchair. I could not save them, any of them. Their
deaths weighed hard on the group, but hardest on me because they
followed me. They put their faith in me as their leader and I had
failed them all.

After a while, I joined Lara at the
main house. The living room was aglow with soft light from numerous
homemade candles in Mason jars placed strategically around the room
and the glow of the fire that crackled in the stone fireplace. More
than fifteen of my friends stood around the piano as Maureen played
and Stanley softly sang, “She’s Always a Woman.”

Lara spied me as soon as I entered
and she waived me over to her. She’d found a spot closest to the
fireplace for which I was grateful. I stood behind her and leaned
against the mantle as I pulled off my knit cap and stuffed it into
the pocket of my coat.

“Who knew he had such a lovely
voice,” Lara whispered to me as I shrugged out of my coat. “It’s
kind of hot actually.”

After hanging my coat on the back of
a chair, the room applauded as Stanley concluded his performance
and Justin replaced him beside the piano. His slightly pudgy face
was porcelain white, even in the yellow glow of candlelight. As
usual, his hair was spiky and unkempt.

“Thank you, Stan the man for such a
lovely song,” Justin said. “You really had all the ladies swooning.
But now, I’m going to do something a little more up-beat and I want
you all to sing along with me. Maureen, if you would please.”

With that introduction, Maureen
tickled the ivories with the opening of “Piano Man” and the room
applauded vigorously. It was a song everyone was familiar with; it
was often the crowd favorite on Karaoke night.

As everyone sang along, I stood
behind Lara and put my arms around her. She was petite, but not
fragile; she possessed strength greater than her size, both
mentally and physically. I lay my head against her as the music
played and Justin sang. Normally, I would have joined in but I just
wasn’t feeling it tonight. For whatever reason, I couldn’t stop
thinking about Randall Oaks.

While the music played and Justin
sang, Lara obviously knew something was wrong. She pulled my hand
and led me to the kitchen, still in earshot of the music, but far
enough away so we would not be overheard. “Okay, what’s wrong,
Matt? Spill it.”

I shook my head a moment, not sure I
could even explain what I was feeling. Then before I knew it I was
spilling. “I’m just feeling very emotional right now. On nights
like this, when we’re gathered around a fire, gathered with friends
and family, singing and having a good time, you forget those things
are even out there.”

“That’s good to forget them for a
while. It’s good to let yourself enjoy life.”

Now I nodded my head. “Yes, agreed.
But we also forget sometimes that there are good people out there
that we left behind. I can’t help but wonder if they even survived
the white out. Do they still have enough food to survive? What if
Providence waited for us to leave and then stormed in and killed
them all? What if the crazies got to them?”

Lara grabbed my face between her
hands and tilted my head so that she could look into my eyes.
“Matthew, look at me. I know what you’re feeling, because I feel
it, too. I think about them often. I miss Kat and Sam, too. I miss
them all. And I wonder if they’re still alive and I pray for spring
to come early so we can reunite with them. And we will. I know
we’ll see them again. But when that time comes, whatever happened
over there, it’s not your fault. And until then, you keep that
burden on your shoulders.”

Although she was right, I could not
easily slip my shoulders out from beneath the straps of that weight
and let it slough from my shoulders and down my back. Now I took
Lara’s face between my hands and brought her to me, kissing her
deeply, taking her off guard. Her eyes remained closed for a moment
after.

When she opened them again, I said,
“I’m going to the bunk house. I just can’t get into this tonight.
Please, just tell them I wasn’t feeling well.”

“They won’t believe it,” Lara said,
letting her hands drop to her sides. My face was warm where her
hands had laid just a second ago. “You’re superman, remember? You
caught the disease that kills everyone else, but you survived.”

“Okay, then tell them I’m depressed
and I am homesick.”

“That would just offend them and
they’d probably take out their frustrations on the messenger.”

“Tell them what you need to tell them
then,” I said. I opened the side door from the kitchen and paused
on the threshold. “Tell Stan I thought he was really good.”

“What about Justin?”

I paused a moment, then said, “Tell
him to keep practicing.”

The bunkhouse was dark and quiet, as
expected. Except for those on patrol, everyone else was in the
house having a great night after an excellent dinner. I dropped
down heavily into my bunk and listened to the squeak of springs
while I kicked off my books. Staring up at the bunk above me, I
thought about the pork roast, the potatoes, corn on the cob, and
gravy we shared just an hour ago. A feast, when others out there
were probably starving. I never ate so good at Randall Oaks after
the infected arose.

Closing my eyes, I pictured my house,
the living room sofa where I slept after my wife died, or, rather
was put down by my brother after the infection took her mind. There
was a roaring fire in the living room fireplace. Kat and Sam sat on
the floor, across the coffee table and they were beautiful in the
dim light. They were laughing, sharing a rare moment of tenderness
with each other that I had not seen since the world was normal.
Lara sat beside me, beautiful yet shy, awkward around the other
women.

I tried to take Lara’s hand, but she
pulled away from me and pointed in the direction of the kitchen.
“You didn’t save them,” she said.

Confused, my eyes followed her
pointing finger. In the kitchen, Charlie sat at the table and
across from him, Bob sat with his back to me.

“Why are they here?” I asked.

“You didn’t save us,” Kat said.

“You’re not dead, Kat. You’re not
dead, but they are.”

“It’s only a matter of time, and then
we’re all dead.”

Before I could respond, Charlie and
Bob jumped from their seats and fell upon Kat, their teeth tearing
into her flesh. Charlie tore a chunk of flesh from Kat’s neck,
while Bob bit into her cheek, the one with the scar that ran from
temple to chin.

“We’re all dead,” Kat said again.
“And so are you.”

With a ferocious quickness, Kat
pounced at me and…

I woke with a scream caught in my
throat. For a moment, I lay unmoving; the only sound my heavy
breathing. My shirt was soaked from neck to chest. My hair was a
matted tangle of wet hair and my neck was sticky. I could smell the
pungent aroma of my own sweat. As my eyes adjusted, I glanced at my
watch and was barely able to see the time. Just after 9pm. I’d only
been in the bunk for half an hour.

Still shaken, I lied back down and
put my arm over my eyes. In the distance, I heard the faint melody
of the piano. Although I had no intention of going back to sleep, I
lay in the dark analyzing the dream and wondering about the friends
I left behind.

My Immortal

February brought more snow after a
couple of weeks of mild days at the end of January. It appeared as
though winter, although it came in with a vengeance, would go out
with a whisper. After a brief reprieve, a series of winter storms
rolled in and blanketed northern Illinois with more than 60 inches
of snow in a short period.

We spent much of our time sheltered
during the worst of the storm, only going out to do the necessary
chores and to tend to the animals. All other work came to a halt
and even patrols were kept to a minimum as visibility was less than
zero and the temperatures dropped double digits below zero. I was
concerned we’d lose someone to the elements which was not worth the
risk. If the weather kept us inside and hunkered down, not much
else would be out there. Even the crazies became inactive during
the cold, resting beneath the snow and waiting for food to pass
nearby.