Regeneration (Mad Swine Book 3) (25 page)

To his right, Ian started to fire,
yelling, “Take out the driver!” All around them now, small arms
fired at the truck, a barrage of bullets from every direction. Matt
raised his SKS and fired ten rounds in quick succession. The
windshield of the truck exploded with pock-marks and a web of white
cracks. Suddenly, the truck veered toward the left, smashing into
the barn, taking out a portion of the wall before finally coming to
a halt.

The night smelled of cordite and
carbon monoxide. Thick plumes of horrible smoke and dry dust
floated through the air, making it difficult to see or breathe. A
small group was converging on the truck and had almost reached it.
Remembering the truck that smashed through the boundaries of
Randall Oaks was filled with crazies, Matt yelled for them to hold
on, but his voice was lost among the others.

Someone had already pulled open the
rear door. To his surprise, the cargo container was empty. The
truck was no Trojan horse after all.

“Jesus Christ,” Ian said, turning to
Matt. “I thought for sure it would be filled with them foul
creatures.”

Nodding his head, Matt said,
“Something’s not right about this. What was the point of this?”

Gunfire suddenly kicked up behind
them, startling Matt. Someone yelled, “Ambush!” and everyone turned
in the direction of the farmhouse. Bullets buzzed past Matt and Ian
and both men started to turn and separate. As Matt dove left,
hitting the dirt hard, he heard Ian cry out in pain, “I’m hit, I’m
fucking hit!”

On his stomach, Matt turned to see
the direction of attack. They had used the distraction of the truck
to send a group around their left flank. He saw five or six men and
women firing at them from the direction of the ranch quarters.
Ignoring Ian for the moment, Matt reloaded the SKS, fumbling with
the stripper clip, but finally managed jam in ten more rounds. He
opened fire, targeting the woman on the left, closest to the ranch.
She dropped her weapon and grasped at her neck where the round tore
a gaping hole. She spun left and then fell to the ground.

Others were also returning fire now,
and he saw the attackers fold one by one. Sam and Kat called a
ceasefire. Together, they left their positions and moved off in the
direction of the attackers to make sure they were dead and not
others were waiting in ambush.

Taking advantage of quiet moment,
Matt went to check Ian. He was slumped against one large wheel of
the truck. His rifle was on his knees and one hand covered a
bleeding wound on his shoulder. His face was pale and clammy. Dirt
or grime was streaked across his forehead where he’d wiped at his
sweat.

Hunkering down beside him, Matt
asked, “Are you hit anywhere else?”

Ian shook his head. “My fucking
shoulder is blown out.”

“Let me look.”

Matt pulled Ian’s had away from the
wound. “I’m going to have to take off the jacket. It’s going to
hurt a bit.”

Ian nodded—talking took too much
energy—but Matt could see the fear in his friend’s eyes. Matt took
hold of the flap of the jacket and pulled it back and around the
shoulder in one quick movement. Ian screamed and his body jerked
forward as if he were going to try to stand, but then he slumped
back against the tire as he lost consciousness for a moment.

Matt leaned in to examine the wound.
The flesh looked like a set of puckered fish lips. Blood dribbled
from the one corner, not as much as he expected. Now he pulled
Ian’s shoulder forward so that he could get a look at the back. He
sighed with relief when he saw the exit wound. The bullet had
passed through which was a good thing. If the bullet had lodged in
the bone or muscle, they would have had to go in and remove it for
risk of infection.

“How bad it is, brother?” Ian asked.
His face was still pale, but he looked like he had a little more
energy.

“You’ll be fine. Bullet went through.
We need to get this clean and bandaged and you’ll be ready to get
back in there.”

“Did we get them?”

Matt nodded. “We did, but I’m sure
they’ll be back.” Standing now, he said, “Let’s get you inside
before they do.”

As he helped his friend into the main
house to get patched up, Matt was afraid. He thought that was
something he’d gotten used to—living in fear. He’d been through so
much, stared down death many times. He’d been through war before,
but somehow, this was different and he didn’t know why. He just had
a bad feeling that he might not make it through this night.

* * *

He did make it through the night,
though.

After the stunt with the truck,
things were mostly quiet. Over the next couple of hours, the 59’ers
sent patrols to probe their lines and a there was a quick exchange
of gunfire. No one else was hurt. There were many wounded—most
still ambulatory and able to fight—and thirteen casualties.

During the lull, Matt had the more
seriously wounded moved to the barn where Cleona and the children
stayed. Ravi refused to go at first, but after some coaxing, Matt
convinced her to go with her patients. He promised that if anyone
here needed trauma assistance, he’d send a runner.

Matt also used the quiet time to
redeploy his teams, condensing their fighting positions and
bringing them closer to the main house. He realized by doing this
he was giving the enemy more ground, but if he didn’t tighten his
lines, there’d be gaping holes into which the enemy could slip
anyway and cause more chaos by forcing them to fire into their
own.

Inside the main house, Matt made a
tour of some of the walking wounded and took a moment to check on
Ian. He was sitting on the sofa starring into the fireplace.

“How’s the shoulder?” Matt asked.

“I can hardly move it, but there’s
not too much pain. Ravi gave me something that took care of that,
bless her,” Ian said.

Hunkering down next to him, Matt
said, “Why don’t you head back and check on your mom?”

“I’m still in this fight. I can shoot
with one hand if necessary.”

“No doubt, brother.” He waited a beat
and then said, “Truth is, I was hoping you’d make sure Wesley and
Joshua were there. No one’s seen them since right around when the
truck broke through and I’m worried.”

Ian looked at him for a moment,
searching his eyes, perhaps to see if he was lying. Finally, he
said, “You got it, mate. I really should see what the little
buggers got up to. After all, I gave them the guns, didn’t I?”

“Good man,” Matt said. He helped Ian
up off the sofa and handed him his rifle. “Let Ravi know we’re
still good here. Make sure she don’t try to sneak back up here. You
know how she gets.”

“I’ll tie her down if I have to,” Ian
said and smiled. “Actually, I think I’d quite enjoy that. She’s a
real looker, that one.”

“Take it easy, brother. She’s a
feisty lady and right now you’re not up for that challenge.”

“We’ll see,” he said and shouldered
his rifle and left out the side door, where Wes and Joshua had set
up their fighting station.

In the kitchen, he found Lara and
another woman he did not know—he needed to ask Crystal or someone
from Providence to give him a list of names so he could start
memorizing them. The two were brewing up coffee and fixing quick
sandwiches to bring out to the lines.

The sun was just starting to rise to
the east, a new dawn on what was probably the longest day in his
life. She smiled when she saw him and put down the slices of bread
she was holding so that she could embrace him.

“I missed you so much,” Lara
whispered against his neck.

“I missed you, too,” he said, hugging
her firmly. He did not want to let her go.

They embraced for almost a minute
before Lara backed up and then planted a kiss on his lips. She held
his face in her hands and gently rubbed the stubble on his cheeks.
“You need a shave, Mister Scratchy.”

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” she said and let his face
go.

“Have you seen Kat this morning?”

“Yes. She’s…Kat. She’s good, or at
least she’s good at faking it.”

“Do you think you can talk her into
taking some time in the rear?”

Lara looked at him like he was being
ridiculous. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He raised his hands and took a couple
of steps back. “Sorry.”

“Hey, have you seen Wesley? I’m
worried about him.”

“Ian is going to look for him and
Joshua. Someone said they saw them heading for the rear last night
with Crystal.”

“Poor kids. They must have been
horrified. Whose idea was it to let them stay, let alone give them
guns?”

“That was Ian’s idea. I had nothing
to do with it.”

Just as Lara was about to respond,
Sam burst in through the front door. She was winded from running
and doubled over to try to catch her breath.

“What is it, Sam? Is Kat hurt?”

She shook her head. “They have…your
brother.”

“What? Brian is alive?”

Instead of trying to explain, Sam
took Matt’s hand and pulled him out of the house leaving Lara in
the kitchen with the unnamed girl from Providence.

* * *

“They showed up a few minutes ago,
holding the white flag,” Kat said. “They’ve been standing there
waiting. They want to talk to you.”

“Is it him?” Matt asked.

Kat held out the binoculars and Matt
took them. “It’s him.”

Using the binoculars, Matt glassed
the group of men and women who stood about a quarter mile up the
road. There were twelve or so, standing more or less behind the man
with a blue parka and cowboy boots. On his knees, Brian’s head hung
down, but Matt knew it was his brother. He wore only a black
T-shirt and jeans. He must be freezing right now.

As if the man in the parka knew he
was looking, he reached down and pulled Brian’s hair back, forcing
him to look up. His face was bloody, distended with bruises, almost
unrecognizable.

“Mother fucker,” Matt said and
dropped the binoculars.

He was quiet for a moment, struggling
to compose himself. His first reaction was to charge out there,
guns blazing, but knew that would not end well for any of them.
Besides, Brian was alive—bruised and battered, but alive—and he
wanted to keep him that way.

Turning to Kat, he asked, “Did you
see any of the others? Did you see Phil?”

She shook her head.

Matt asked, “What does he want?”

“He wants to talk to you.”

Again, as if he knew exactly what
they were up to, the man in the blue parka called out, “I want to
talk to whomever is in charge. I have a proposition. I want to
parley!”

“Parley?” Sam asks. “History channel
much?”

Scooping up the binoculars, Matt
glassed the area again. Aside from the twelve, he did not see any
other soldiers. The area surrounding the main road was open land,
not many places to hide an army. The road was clear behind them all
the way to the main entrance.

“You’re not really thinking about
going out there, are you?”

Handing the binoculars to Kat this
time, Matt looked around at his own group. He had nearly forty men
and women still dug in and able to fight. If this was some kind of
trap and he was ambushed, they still had enough muscle to fend off
an attack. In daylight, it would be even harder for the enemy to
sneak up on them.

“Justin! Get me a team of five. We’re
going out there.”

Sam started to protest, but Kat
quickly put an arm around her shoulders and whispered something in
her ear. Sam looked at Matt, but said nothing. He had no idea what
the other woman said, but whatever it was, it worked.

In a few minutes, Justin returned
with a group of men and women, a mix of their own and a few from
Providence. “Make sure your weapons are locked and loaded, but no
one fires unless I say. This is a negotiation, not an opportunity
for revenge. If anyone does not understand that, step away right
now. If you do something stupid that gets my brother killed, you
will find yourself following right behind him. Do I make myself
clear?”

Everyone nodded their
understanding.

“All right, let’s go. Keep your eyes
open and look alive.”

* * *

Matt stood just five feet in front of
a madman. He was in his thirties, medium build. Tufts of thick
brown hair poked out from beneath the hood of his parka. He wore
blue jeans tucked in a pair of dark brown cowboy boots. Across his
chest, he wore a leather holster with what looked like a pretty
massive revolver. By all appearances, this was not the sort of man
anyone would consider a threat. But one look at the man’s eyes told
you all you needed to know. Tammy had been right, the man was bat
shit crazy.

“My name is Alvin, I presume you are
in charge here?”

“I am,” Matt said.

Brian looked up then and Matt cringed
at the sight of him. “Why did you come?”

Matt took a step forward but Alvin
held up a hand to halt him, while his other hand rested on the grip
of the pistol he wore across his chest.

“That’s far enough. “May I know your
name please?”

“Matt.”

“Very good, Matt. I must congratulate
you thus far on very well fought battle. You have some military
experience, I presume?”

When Matt did not respond, Alvin
continued. “Yes, of course you do. I have some men, too, with
experience. They tell me you’ve responded in textbook format to our
attacks thus far. You’ve been quite a challenge, I must admit. And
I do enjoy a challenge.”

Brian laughed and spit a clump of
blood onto the ground. Alvin looked down at him, eye blazing. “He
still has some fight in him. Perhaps we should do something about
that.”

“No,” Matt said. “I’m only here
because of him. You hurt him anymore and this conversation is
over.”