Regeneration (Mad Swine Book 3)

by Pajak, Steven

  * * *

  Brian and I sat across from each other at the dining room table. Although it was cold, the sun was strong and poured in through the open windows. A thin layer of dust filmed all of the furniture in my absence. Using his index finger, my brother was finishing his drawing of a map out on the wood surface.

  After returning, I asked Tammy to go get some food for us. The promise of a hot meal and coffee was all she needed to get her up and out the door. I could eat, but I really just wanted the time with my brother to go over the plan and to make sure he was okay with what I had to tell him.

  “So we need to move some of these containers here, at the entrance, I think three or four on each side, to make a nice long kill box. We get as many of them in there as possible and then detonate the explosives. Kill as many as possible, slow the rest down immediately.”

  I looked down at his map drawn in the dust. “That’s assuming they’ll come head on, right through the gates.”

  “They will. Their leader sounds like an arrogant fuck and that’s exactly what he’ll do. He’ll be pissed off and not thinking clearly.”

  I sat back in the chair and crossed my arms across my chest. “Okay, let’s assume, though, that’s he’s an arrogant fuck, that he doesn’t let his rage cloud his judgement, and he has at least half a brain. After all, he’s survived this long and you saw the maps. They’re good at this.”

  Brian took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “I hear you, bro. So if he’s smart, he holds at the front and sends scouts through, and maybe sends a couple of groups on the flanks. They trip the explosives, he loses a few, and within minutes they’re in, they realize we’ve gone and they come looking for us and either catch us on the road or before we have time to set up a defense at the farm.”

  “And that is why I have to stay back and trigger the explosives when they’ll do the most damage.” I held up a hand and said, “Before you argue with me, think about it. There is no other way and we have very little time. We have to make this count. We have to kill as many of them here as possible if we’re going to have a chance of holding them off at the farm.”

  “Then why not dig in and fight here?” Brian asked. “Look, we set up our ambush just like we planned. Set up some teams to protect the assault, fire teams at their front and rear. Let’s commit to it and stop them right here.”

  “We have no idea how large a force they have, but if we believe Tammy, then he’s got a damn army. We cannot take on an army here without losing many lives in the process. We stand a better change by combining our forces from here and the rest of our group at the farm.”

  “You’re right,” Brian said, surprising me. He stood up from his chair and leaned over the table, looking down at his dust map. “Someone needs to stay to trigger the explosives when they’ll do the most damage, but it won’t be you.”

  “I can’t ask anyone else to do this.”

  “You don’t have to ask. I’m volunteering,” he said, shifting his eyes from the map so that he could look at me. “Don’t turn this into some pissing contest, bro. We both started all this shit and we’re both responsible for the way things ended up. And I’m tired of you trying to carry all the guilt on your own. It’s my turn to shoulder some of it.”

  “Not like this,” I said.

  “Exactly like this,” Brian said. “You think this is a suicide mission. I can see that in your eyes. But I know I can make this work. I can walk out of here after.”

  “Then I should stay to help you.”

  “No, you need to lead these people,” Brian said. He came around to my side of the table, pulled out the chair beside me, and sat down. “All that stuff Phil talked about earlier, I know that’s what you want. It’s what we all want, and those ideas could be the start of something big. Bringing these people together is the start. It makes us stronger. Start creating safe zones. Start pushing the crazies back. Take back the land one stretch at a time. Start building our army, one made of good people who want to live, who want to start over again. Don’t you want that, little brother?”

  “Of course I want that,” I said.

  “Then you have to lead them to that. Only you can do that. Not me, or Sam, or Phil. Only you.”

  “I don’t believe that. Their future doesn’t end because I’m not in it. After all the mistakes I made, they might even welcome a change in leadership.”

  “Don’t talk like that. You’re their leader. You’ve gotten this far and you’re going to take them farther. You’re fucking bullet proof, man. You beat the fucking infection that no one else survives. You’re the only one they want standing at the front and giving them orders. Trust me, I know, because that’s exactly how I feel about you, brother.”

  I put my face in my hands and rubbed roughly, mostly trying to conceal my emotions. His words both embarrassed and inspired me. I still did not believe these people could not go on without me. But right now, at this time in their lives, I was their leader and it was my job to make sure they lived to see the next stage of their evolution in this world.

  * * *

  At mid-morning, I was checking in on the caravan when word reached me that our scout had returned from Kappy’s with news. Under Crystal’s leadership, the caravan was prepped and ready to go in less time that I originally planned. With things well under control, I excused myself and made my way to the command trailer.

  Phil and a young woman in her early twenties were seated at the table. The girl’s dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail that poked through the opening in the back of the Cubs baseball cap she wore. Her cheeks were red from riding against the wind on her motorbike. As I entered, she started to stand, but I motioned for her to stay seated.

  Squatting beside her, I put a hand on her shoulder. “Tell me what you saw.”

  She nodded her head and said, “About an hour ago, they rode in. A large caravan of motorcycles and vehicles, but mostly motorcycles. The motors were so loud I could hear them coming before I saw them. They pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, it was like a swarm of bees returning to their hive. I never seen anything like it.”

  “How many of them, honey?” I asked. I did not even know her name, this girl who had risked her life to bring back this information.

  Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “So many.” Now she turned her head and looked at me. “If I had to guess, I would say at least one hundred, but maybe more. They had a couple of vans and some of those moving trucks. There could have been more men and women inside. I don’t know.”

  “Okay, that’s okay. What happened after they arrived at Kappy’s?”

  “A few of them went inside while the rest just stayed on their bikes or in the vehicles. They weren’t in there very long before they came back out and started shouting stuff.”

  “Did you hear what they were shouting?”

  “No, I was too far away to hear.”

  “What happened next?” I asked.

  Another small group of men went back inside and when they came out, they were carrying bodies. They brought out four bodies, I think. Then more of them started shouting and then they started revving their bikes and it was so loud, I couldn’t stand it.”

  Now getting to my feet, I sat at the edge of the table and looked down at her. “What is your name?

  “Sarah.”

  “Okay, Sarah. After they started revving their bikes, what happened?”

  Before she answered, her eyes shifted to Phil for a moment and then back to me, before settling on her hands. “I got scared. I thought all of the noises were going to attract the dead things and I thought they might have sent people out to check the surrounding area and I wouldn’t hear them sneaking up on me so I ran back to my bike and came straight here.”

  Now she looked at me again and said, “I’m sorry. I panicked and ran.

  “You did fine, Sarah. I probably would have done the same thing. Your instincts were probably right. They probably had sent out scouts to check the area. Wit
h all that noise, they were bound to attract the crazies. You were right about that, too.”

  “Thank you,” Sarah said. Now she sat up higher in her seat and she looked directly at me when she said, “I don’t think we have much time. Before I ran, I saw them gearing up. I saw them loading weapons and dumping some of their saddle bags like they were trying to lighten their loads. They were so hyped up…I know I would use that anger before it wore off.”

  After a long moment of silence, Phil said, “Sarah, please go find Sam and tell her to have all team leads meet us outside. Then tell Crystal we need to be wheels up in twenty minutes. No later.”

  The girls was up an out of her seat in a flash. When she was out of the trailer, Phil stood up, walked over to me, and sat on the table beside me.

  “So this is it,” he said.

  “Yep.”

  “Does this change the plan any?”

  I was quiet for a moment as I considered this new information. “Maybe. I need to think on it.”

  * * *

  We rallied with Sam and Brian, sharing the intel provided by Sarah. When Phil posed the same question about whether or not the plan changed, Brian considered the question carefully before answering.

  Finally, he said, “This doesn’t change the plan.”

  “I hear a ‘but’ in there. What is it?”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, I could use some help. If they are as close as you say and things don’t go the way we planned, for whatever reason, I won’t be able to buy you much time on my own.”

  “Tell us what you need,” Phil said.

  Rustling in his front coat pocket, Brian pulled out his schematic of the community and set it on the table, spreading it out so we could all see. On the map, he marked the location of each set of explosives with red X marks. Large arrows with dotted lines showed his points of egress, depending on his location at the time the explosives detonated.

  Scratching his chin with one hand as he viewed the map, Brian finally said, “I need a small squad to cover the rear. If they break through too quickly, we’ll need to lay down a wall of suppressing fire. It won’t keep them long once they figure out it’s a small group and envelope us, but it should buy you enough time to get where you need to be.”

  “I’ll stay,” Phil said. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll pull a team together.”

  “Phil, you don’t have to do this.” I said.

  “I do, though,” he said.

  “If you’re putting a team together, they need to know.” Brian said.

  “I know,” Phil said

  “Say it so we know you understand.”

  Phil looked at my brother for a long moment. When I thought he wasn’t going to answer, he said, “They probably won’t be leaving this place.”

  “Are you sure about this, Phil?” I asked.

  “I’m sure. Now get the heck out of here.”

  I nodded, and shook Phil’s hand, knowing there was nothing I could say to change his mind anyway. For all of their differences, both my brother and Phil shared one characteristic: stubbornness.

  Awkwardly, I turned toward my brother. In all our years, we’d never been good at saying goodbyes, and this was no exception. Although this was probably the last time I’d see my brother again.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything,” he said. “I know.”

  “I know,” I said.

  Stretching my hand out for our normal bro shake, I was surprised when he pushed it away and embraced me. We had our share of hugs over the years, but usually I initiated. His arms were tight around me and I could feel his hot breath on my neck.

  “See you around, little brother,” he said.

  When I walked away, tears stinging my eyes, I knew this was probably the last time I’d see my brother alive.

  Chapter 9

  How Many More Times

  Not long after our departure, we heard the first blast and shortly after small arms fire. Standing on the flatbed, bringing up the rear of our caravan, I spun around and saw the cloud of thick black smoke climbing toward the sky over Route 20. For a moment, I stood looking back in horror, not because of the explosion—I knew it would be coming—but because I did not expect it so soon. If Brian set off the charges already, that meant that the makeshift walls were breached.

  Without realizing what I was doing, I sat down on the edge of the trailer, suddenly feeling the strength run out of my legs and my stomach churned with fiery acid. The rattle and crack of small arms stopped shortly after, just before a second explosion erupted from the southwest, and within seconds of that, the third and final explosion kicked up to the northeast.

  My mouth suddenly went dry as I sat and watched the billowing pillars of smoke in the distance. The silence after the final explosion weighed heavily for what seemed like long minutes. I realized I was holding my breath, hoping to hear more gunfire, a sign that my brother and Phil were still in the fight. As I stared wide-eyed as the smoke pillars stretched further into the sky, the continued silence seemed to speak to me, confirming my worst fears.

  I felt a hand touch my own. Sam walked beside the flatbed, her rifle slung over her right shoulder. Grasping her hand, I suddenly felt a wave of emotion slide over me and my eyes teared up. I did not expect to see my brother again, or any of the brave men and women who stayed behind.

  * * *

  They came at us soon after. Some stumbled out from the sparse woods that flanked us on our right while others rambled down out of the hills and fields on our left. At first, we welcomed the creatures; we unleashed our anger and need for retribution upon the foul things, bludgeoning them with whatever impact weapons we carried.

  Dirty, mired, and muddy, flesh bloated and spongey, a dark haired, middle-aged woman dressed in her Sunday best emerged from the brush. Her opaque eyes, milky, cloudy, hungrily scanning for flesh. I dropped down from the trailer and ran directly at her, not waiting for her to come to me.

  As I drew near, not knowing what I was doing, I landed a sort of jump kick, my size twelve boot connecting squarely with the thing’s ample bosom. The impact was hard enough to snap dirt and dried crud from her hair as her body lifted an inch or two off the ground before slamming down with a meaty impact that would have knocked the wind from a living person.

  Almost immediately, the thing sat up, its rotting fingers clawing at the legs of my jeans, seeking the vulnerable flesh beneath. I drove a knee into its face, smashing the nose inward. One knee on the things chest, I began to pound its ghastly face, my knuckles digging, smashing, breaking skin and bones. I unleashed a fury of punches until I could no longer breathe and the creature beneath me had ceased moving.

  Falling onto my backside, breathing like a drowning victim finally breaking through to the surface, I finally looked at what was left of the woman’s face. It was unrecognizable; it reminded me of a cantaloupe after being hit with a baseball bat. The skull was cracked open and what looked like grape jelly oozed out.

  Looking down at my hands, I discovered they were covered with the thick, purple fluid, the thing’s blood. In fact, the blood smeared all the way up to the elbows of my jacket. Wiping the sticky, jam-like substance on the legs of my jeans, I was quite surprised at how easily my fists managed to penetrate the thick bone of the skull. The damn things were rotting from the inside, making their flesh and bone more vulnerable.

  No more than forty or fifty seconds had passed since knocking the woman thing to the ground. Getting my feet under me, I pushed up from the cold concrete. As I jogged to catch up with the flatbed, others stepped out of formation to engage the undead as they came, solo or in groups of two or three. Crystal used her Mosin to smash a crazy’s skull into its brain with one mighty downward sweep of the heavy butt. A man I didn’t know decapitated one of them with his machete, its head and body falling almost simultaneously.

  We went on that way for the next fifteen minutes before I realized the groups were getting larger and coming in waves clo
ser together. Now, groups of two or three members of our caravan had to work as a group to engage the larger groups. At some point, a contingent of the undead started gathering at our rear, lunging and staggering awkwardly in an attempt to keep up with our moving vehicles. There were at least nine there now, when only five minutes ago there were three.

  Hopping down off the flatbed, I ran forward passed a pickup truck and a white cargo van with the doors removed, until I came to the vehicle pulling the long trailer of wounded. Slowing to a jog, I tapped Crystal’s shoulder, realizing my mistake quickly enough to avoid a flying elbow to the eye socket.

  “Whoa, easy there,” I said. I stopped jogging and started walking to match her pace. “It’s just me.”

  “You scared the crap out of me,” she said. Taking a few seconds to compose herself, she took a deep breath and then looked at me warily. “What’s going on?”

  “These things are starting to come more frequently. I don’t know if the explosions woke them or if they can hear us coming, but whatever it is, I don’t like it. They’re easy enough one on one, but when they get together and attack as a group, it’s all too easy for one of them to get a scratch or a bite in.”

  Switching her Mosin from one hand to the other, she said, “You’re right. What can we do about it?”

  “We need to get as many people in or on the vehicles as possible and send them ahead. I don’t care if they have to hang off the back or pile on top of each other.”

  “We’re not all going to fit,” Crystal observed.

  “I know. Those who can’t fit will walk the rest of the way in, keeping ahead of that mob and killing whatever tries to get in front of us.”

  “Okay, we can make that work.”

  “Good. Pass the word up. Make sure anyone who is walking has firearms and impact weapons.”