Mad Swine (Book 2): Dead Winter (11 page)

“Dude, this is bullshit—“

“You’ve been away for too long, brother, and maybe you forgot what happened the last time that fucking disease got inside of our walls. That shit is not going to happen again. Ian will be quarantined.”

Brian shook his head and kicked his foot against the washing machine startling Ravi. He looked at her sharply for a second and then his face changed and he softened. “Sorry, Ravi. This isn’t your fault.”

“Thank you,” Ravi said. “I appreciate your understanding.”

“Do what you have to do. But at least let me stay with him. He doesn’t know anyone here.”

“Not a good idea,” I said. “Listen, we need to do this quietly. I don’t want anyone getting spooked or panicked until we know for sure what happens with Ian one way or the other.”

“What do you want us to do?” Ravi asked. Her anger had died down quickly now that Brian had apologized and was willing to follow her rules. Now, she just looked nervous.

“How many folks are in your group, Brian?”

“Four, including Ian.”

“Okay, we need to put the other three up here in the CP. They can stay in one of the guest rooms. We’ll say that Ravi wants to keep Ian at the infirmary over night to make sure the stitches don’t come out during the night and she’s worried about an open wound becoming infected.”

“Who will keep watch with me?” Ravi’s eyes wandered over to my brother and then back to me.

“Kat will stand watch and handle things,” I said.

“Matt, this is my mess. I should be the one to clean it up.”

“You and me have a lot to talk about. Kat will handle this.”

Brian looked at me with doubt for a second but then he relented. “Fine. But I want to know the minute anything changes. Ravi, you make sure someone finds me.”

“I will,” she responded sheepishly. “Let’s hope I’m wrong about this.”

Back in the kitchen, Ian remained seated where we’d left him. He smiled when we entered the room and said in his Irish accent, “So, did you decide if I live or die, doc?”

“You’ll be fine, Ian,” Ravi said. She walked over to the sink and put on another pair of rubber gloves that she pulled from a box on the counter. “But I’ll need you to stay at our infirmary tonight so I can check your stitches.”

“Aye, whatever you say, doc.” Ian flashed his big smile. I had to admit his smile was endearing. And the ease with which he agreed made me realize that, although I’d just met the man, I had already taken a liking to him.

Brian walked over and knelt down beside Ian, placing one hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I’ll let Maureen and the others know where you’ll be and I’ll get them squared away here for the night. And I’ll stop by later and check on you during the night.”

Ian looked over at Ravi who was putting on her coat. He watched her as she left the kitchen for the dining room and then he looked over at me. “She seems to be in a hurry.”

I nodded but said nothing. I didn’t know what to say.

“Let me help you get your coat on, man,” Brian said. “Just hold that arm still and I’ll zip your coat around you.”

The Irishman looked at my brother now with wary eyes as though he suspected something else was going on. Just then Ravi returned with Kat and Ian’s eyes narrowed further.

“Can I say goodbye to Maureen, brother?” he asked Brian.

“I’ll let her know where you’re going and I’ll bring her by as soon as she gets her stuff settled here. No more than a half hour.” Brian helped Ian to his feet and finished zipping the coat. “No worries, bro. Just go on ahead with these two beautiful ladies and enjoy their company for a while.”

“Aye, brother. I think I’d rather enjoy the company of these fine lassies over yours any day. No offense.”

Brian smiled. I hoped Ian didn’t know Brian as well as I or he would see right through the fake smile. “See you soon, man. Stay warm.”

Now, Ian smiled again, lighting up his whole face. I thought for a moment that I must have imagined the look suspicious look only moments ago. He nodded his head at me and offered his good arm. “Well ladies, looks like it’s just the three of us. Shall we?”

Kat smiled, the scar tissue on her face welting up like a coiled snake. She took Ian’s waiting arm and together they left the kitchen through the garage. Ravi followed closely behind, but unlike Kat, she wasn’t smiling.

“I feel like shit,” Brian said when the door closed.

“Yeah, I know. Some welcome home, huh?”

He nodded his head. “It’s good to be back, but it looks like this is just par for the course. What the hell happened in the last six weeks?”

“Introduce me to the rest of your companions first and let’s get them set up for the night. We have a lot to discuss.”

Brian settled down onto the cold carpet with a groan that sounded like the noise that always escaped my grandfather when he sat down or got up from his favorite chair. Without ceremony, Brian wriggled out of his back pack and set it down long enough to struggle out of his winter coat. He rolled his coat into a make-shift pillow and leaned on it with his elbow before grabbing his back pack again.

I watched for a few minutes as he unzipped his bag and started to sift through the contents before I finally left him to his business. I shuffled up the stairs, pulling my own coat off along the way, draping it over the banister about midway up. The fire still burned in the living room fireplace and the warm draft of heated air that greeted me at the top of the stairs was welcomed against my cold cheeks and frigid ears. The walk from the CP to my house was just a short two-minute jaunt, but the temperature was dropping swiftly as evening came on and left me with a deeper chill.

Leaving my boots on, I crossed the carpeted floor to the hallway linen closet (something I would never have attempted if my wife was still alive) and pulled open the bi-fold doors. From the top shelf I brought down the two large comforters that we used for guests. Both comforters—one brown with a copper weave pattern and one cobalt blue with gold leaves—were both still encased in their thick plastic bags for protection. I unzipped the blue one and took a quick whiff and smiled. Instead of the musty smell of stored garments the comforter smelled of fabric softener.

With an elbow I closed the closet doors and carried the two comforters downstairs with the sound of the thick plastic bags squeaking against each other. In the lower level family room I dropped the load onto the sectional sofa. Brian had emptied the contents of his back pack and was now organizing the items in a half-circle around where he sat.

“How was it on the road?” I asked as I unpacked the blue comforter, my lame attempt at a conversation starter.

Brian leaned back on his elbow, dug into his pants pocket and fished out a half-crushed pack of smokes. I could tell they weren’t his usual brand. He tucked one of the cigarettes into the corner of his mouth, lit it up and took a deep drag. Finally, without looking over at me, he said, “It was not as bad as you might think. In fact, I kind of liked it.”

I finished unpacking the brown comforter and stared at my brother as I processed his words. His hair was longer than it was when I’d last saw him; it was beyond his shoulders now. He’d lost a little weight, too, I could tell. I could see his shoulder blades poking against his black T-shirt when he reached forward and picked up a long handled flashlight and stuffed it back into his back pack.

“What did you like about being alone?”

He turned his head, the cigarette still poking out of the corner of his mouth and his eyes squinted against the billowing smoke. “It’s easier. Heavy lies the crown, brother, when you’re responsible for others. On the road, I just had to worry about myself. It was almost…therapeutic, dude.”

“I guess you’re right,” I said. I folded the brown comforter and dropped it on the carpet next to him. “How did you pass the time?”

Brian plucked the cigarette from his lips and looked around for a place to dump his ash. He finally settled on the barren hearth of the cold fireplace and leaned forward on one knee, flicking his cigarette. He resumed his position, propped onto his left elbow and seemed to give serious thought to my question.

“Mostly I thought about what I was going to do next, where I was going to go, how far I would travel, what I was going to eat. I kept focused on my mission.”

“And that got you through the cold nights?”

I sat down next to Brian and then lay down with the blue comforter beneath me. I could feel the cold already creeping into my bones and making me sleepy. Although Brian had already unpacked his gear, we were more than likely going to have to break camp and move upstairs where the fire would last through most of the night.

He shook his head but didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed a dark gray pullover sweatshirt and slipped into it. I waited for his response. He snatched up the crumpled pack of cigarettes and tapped one out slightly and offered it to me. When I declined, he grabbed it between clenched teeth and then lit up with the butt of his first cigarette.

After a long drag, Brian nodded his head and then turned to look at me. When our eyes met he said, “I thought about Bob a lot. I thought about the look in his eyes when we charged the grain loft. He was scared. We were all scared, man. But he didn’t hesitate.”

I could see the haunted look in his eyes and I had to look away. I suddenly felt like a coward. After all, I had asked the question. “I’m sorry for that.”

Brian shook his head again and his long brown locks whipped soundlessly across his shoulders. “It was our only play. We knew the risks and we accepted them. That’s on us.”

I didn’t have a response for that so I just kept quiet. I reached over and grabbed the pack of cigarettes, suddenly changing my mind, and pulled one out just to keep from looking at him. I lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply, feeling a rush of lightheadedness as the smoke filled my lungs.

“You want to know what I really thought about most nights?”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know now, but I really had no choice. I watched smoke rise from the cigarette clenched tightly between my fingers and listened to my brother.

“Revenge, dude. I lay awake at night thinking about Comedian and that fat fuck Senior and what they did to the people I love. I would just lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling, thinking about Charlie laying on the dining room table in the CP bleeding and I’d think about the fear in Bob’s eyes when we attacked the grain tower and the way his body fell when he got hit. I would think about the scars on Kat’s beautiful face and that boy, Wesley, growing up without his parents and I would just burn with rage, man.”

He sat up now and flicked his cigarette into the fireplace and grabbed the pack again. He tore it open to get to the last smoke and then crumpled the foil pack forcefully in his fist.

“All I could think about was getting even. I wanted them to suffer and I wanted to be the one to make them suffer.”

I shifted my position and sat up, too. I felt awkward now, seeing my brother in such a raw state. I felt sadness as well, knowing that he struggled with these feelings on his own.

“We avenged Charlie,” I said finally.

“That wasn’t enough. Not for me. And it shouldn’t have been enough for you, either.”

I was a bit shocked by his statement and felt as though I’d physically been struck. “Is that why you left? Because you didn’t think I had done enough to avenge Charlie and Bob or Wesley’s parents?”

Brian stared at me hard for a moment and then looked away. “Just forget it, dude.”

“What was I supposed to do? Risk the lives of everyone in the community, to let them be killed down to the last man, woman and child to satisfy your lust for revenge?”

“My lust for revenge? You wanted to kill Comedian just as much as I did,” Brian spat. “You’re just as much responsible for starting that war as I. The least you could have done was finished what we started. Instead you, what, agreed to peace? You just fucking let them walk away!”

“You just said a minute ago ‘heavy lies the crown’, did you forget? I had a responsibility to the rest of the people that live here and what I did was best for everyone. I had to let them walk away or none of us would.”

A long moment of silence spun out. Finally, Brian took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. He turned to look at me, his eyes rimmed red from anger or fatigue, or both. His glossy eyes held my own, never blinking. When he spoke, his voice was no longer angry, but instead subdued.

“Do they know about Comedian?”

His question caught me by surprise as much as his sudden departure from anger. It’s not that I didn’t understand his question, of course I did. We had both agreed then, what now felt like so long ago, that no one in the community could ever know what we did to Comedian. We both knew what that would do to the community trust. They would not understand our motives, nor would they forgive us for the devastation that followed.

“Of course not,” I said. “Why would I do that?”

“How do you live with that inside?”

He shocked me again. My mouth was suddenly dry and my tongue too thick for my mouth. I felt as though it were swelled against the roof of my mouth and pushing against my teeth. For a moment I couldn’t speak.