Mad Swine: The Beginning

by Steven Pajak

  “I would suggest you all get out the side door there and try to get back to your homes. There may be other attacks and you may be needed,” Frank said.

  Big Jim and I both stood. I lifted my go bag and my SKS and I noticed that Big Jim had an AR-15 with him.

  “Good luck,” he said.

  “You, too.” I looked at Frank and said, “We’ll bring back help if we’re not under attack.”

  “We’d appreciate it. Now get moving.”

  “Everyone stay calm!” Senior shouted. “We’ve got men out there and they will handle this. Please stay inside.”

  I left the stage and was greeted by Brian, Bob and Charlie. They were waiting for me.

  “What are we doing?” Brian asked.

  “We’re going back home,” I stated.

  Bob said, “They’re saying to stay inside.”

  “Yeah I know. But we need to get back and see what’s happening at home. We might be needed.”

  “Fucking right,” Brian said.

  “I’m with you, boss,” Charlie said. He was often so quiet I almost forgot he was with us.

  “Follow me,” I said.

  I led my group toward the side entrance that Frank had pointed out. People were already using that exit to vacate the hall. Most of the men who left via this exit were armed and I figured these were the men who Senior had referred to.

  We funneled out into the evening. People were running in various directions but I heard no gunfire yet. That was a good sign. Perhaps the breach was further away and the crazies had not yet reached us. Providence was, after all, a huge complex.

  As a group we turned left and started back toward the main entrance. We moved quickly, passing the front of the building, trekked over the grass and back onto the main street. When we stepped onto the pavement I heard the first screams to the west. We all froze for a moment and then turned toward the sound.

  More screams rose into the evening in the same direction. About one hundred yards to the west, between a cluster of single family homes, a group of crazies made their way toward the crowd. They actually seemed to be moving together as a group, although a few had veered off to grab the nearest flesh.

  “Holy shit!” Bob shouted. “They’re organized!”

  Before I could tell Bob to calm down, a gunshot rang out to my left. I turned to see Brian on one knee, firing at the approaching horde.

  “What are we doing?” Bob shouted.

  I turned to him and said, “Shoot them, Bob. Just be careful not to shoot the people.”

  “This is nuts!” Bob shouted, but raised the Mini 14 to his shoulder.

  I turned to Charlie who stood slightly behind me and to my right. I pulled my S&W 64 with the three-inch barrel from my holster and handed it over to him.

  “Use it if they get close enough or while we reload. And watch our six!”

  Charlie took the revolver and the three speed loaders and nodded his head.

  Turning back toward the threat, I raised the SKS and popped off a few ineffective shots. Too many people were running around, crossing in front of our line of fire.

  “Move you fucking idiots!” Brian shouted, waving his hand. He carefully lined up a shot and when there was room between darting people, he shot one of the crazies in the chest, dropping him to the ground.

  “Go for the head!” I shouted, “It’s the only thing that kills them!”

  The crazy he dropped with a chest shot sat up, and I blew a hole in his right temple to emphasize my point.

  To my right I heard Bob fire a round. From off in the distance I heard faint pops which I assumed were gunfire, but it was at a distance. We seemed to be the only ones shooting.

  Brian was reloading while I fired a few more rounds. I killed another crazy and put another one to the ground briefly.

  Bob had wasted a whole thirty rounds of ammunition with no kills. At this rate, we would be out of ammo shortly.

  I moved beside Brian and crouched down next to him. “We need to move. We’re going to waste all of our ammo here and we might have our own problems at home.”

  Brian nodded. He fired a few more rounds at the horde, which was now no more than fifty yards in front of us. Shouts and screams and the sound of the dying was getting to me.

  “Peel right! Peel right!” I shouted to Brian and tapped his shoulder. I moved quickly now to Bob who was loading another magazine.

  “I can’t hit anything!” he said. His eyes were wide and sweat trickled down his brow.

  “We’re moving, Bob. We’re going to peel right. Fire and move. Watch Brian and watch me. Can you do this?”

  “Yeah, I’m good,” Bob said. He gave me two thumbs up.

  I turned to Charlie. He was waiting patiently. “Charlie, you’re on me. When I move, you move. Stay right on my ass, okay?”

  “Yes, boss,” he said.

  Charlie and I ran about five yards to the right and then I took to a knee and raised the SKS. I fired several shots and watched as Brian rose and ran toward us. As he passed Bob, he tapped his shoulder. Bob held his ground and continued to fire until his third magazine was dry, and then he turned and ran.

  I thumbed in a new stripper clip and fired five rounds rapidly. The next five I aimed carefully and killed two more of the horde. They were now about twenty-five yards away, but they switched direction slightly and were angling south.

  “Now us, Charlie,” I said.

  We both stood and hoofed it, touching Brian’s shoulder and then passing Bob. After ten yards I kneeled again and turned to see that Brian was already moving. When he reached us I stopped him and he took to a knee beside us.

  “I think we’re good now, they’re moving south.”

  “Should we follow?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. “We need to get back home.”

  Bob came running up and stopped beside us. He was breathing heavily and perspiring quite a bit. “I got one. I fucking nailed one, finally.”

  “Good job,” Brian said and clapped Bob on the back.

  I reached into my bag and handed Bob a bottle of water. He took it and eagerly drank, downing half the bottle. When he recapped it and handed it back to me, I nodded toward Brian and Bob handed it off.

  After everyone had a drink I tossed the empty bottle onto the pavement. I made sure everyone reloaded and then it was time to move. We walked cautiously down the main road toward the entrance and Route 20. I led our column and Brian brought up the rear. Charlie stuck on me, as promised.

  “That was intense,” Bob said as the arch of the entrance came into sight.

  “Did you check your undies, Bob?” Brian asked. “I think you shit your pants back there.”

  “I might have,” Bob said and we all laughed.

  “Keep your eyes open,” I told them, “and keep moving.”

  After a few more minutes the roadblock came into view. It was quiet. Only three men were posted here. We approached them and I immediately regretted doing so. Comedian was still out here.

  “What’s going on in there?” he asked. He trotted up to us and stopped a few feet in front of me. “Did you see what’s going on?”

  I nodded my head. “We saw about twenty or so of the crazies in there moving southwest. We took out about six or seven of them.”

  “Nice job,” Comedian said. I thought he was being sarcastic, but a look at his face told me otherwise.

  “Nothing going on out here?” Brian asked. He stood to my right with his STG at the ready.

  Comedian shook his head. “No. Haven’t seen one in about an hour now.”

  We were all silent for a moment, not sure what to say.

  “We have to get going to check on things at home,” I said.

  Bob stepped up and said, “I hope things turn out okay. If you need help here, send a runner and we’ll be here in minutes.”

  Comedian nodded. “Thanks.”

  We turned and started to make our way back home. The night air was cool and sweet and felt good against our hot face
s. The air tasted sweet as I pulled it into my lungs and expelled the pungent aroma of cordite.

  “You guys did well,” I said. “I’m proud of you.”

  They were all silent as we hoofed it the rest of the way home.

  CHAPTER 11:

  Morning After

  I awoke with sunlight pouring in through the bedroom window. I had forgotten to pull the shades, as usual. I sat at the edge of the empty bed and rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands. I’d never been a morning person and I guess I wasn’t going to start being one today.

  I stood and stretched, then pushed my bare feet into my slippers. After putting on my glasses, I turned to look at the empty bed again. I’d been married for eight years and it had been so long since I’d had to sleep alone.

  Most nights the kids found their way into our king sized bed at some point during the night. Mark usually cuddled up on his mother’s side and Katie on mine, her feet always seeming to find my kidneys or another sensitive part of my anatomy.

  Before I could become consumed with emotion, I turned away from the bed and went to the bathroom to relieve myself and brush my teeth.

  I tried really hard not to look at the place where the carpet had been cut out, exposing the bare plywood beneath. Brian had used his knife to remove the maroon-stained portion of the carpet the night before.

  Wearing jogging pants and a white t-shirt, I went to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee to brew, then poured myself a bowl of Raisin Bran and cut up a banana to put on top while I waited.

  I stood and ate my cereal leaning against the kitchen sink, feeling so strange with the quiet that seemed to overwhelm the house. Up until a few days ago, each morning had been filled with sound; blaring televisions in two different rooms, showers running, kids arguing or fussing about getting dressed.

  I placed the unfinished bowl of cereal into the sink and poured a cup of coffee, thankful that we had not lost power. I don’t know what I’d do without coffee and I didn’t want to find out.

  Taking my coffee cup with me, I put on a fleece sweater and went out onto the deck off the dining room. As soon as I stepped outside, I was greeted with beautiful sounds of the morning and people hard at work.

  I went to the far end of the deck which gave me a view of Harper’s Knoll as well as the main common grounds just outside my front door. I was quite surprised to see Brian leading about sixty or seventy people in morning PT. They were currently in the middle of jumping jacks.

  Looking further to the south I saw a group of men at the front gate post, although from this distance I could not tell who stood guard. To the southwest I saw another group of people whom I did recognize. Bob stood with Katherine, a retired supply sergeant, and Ravi, a twenty-something Jewish girl who attended nursing school and lived with some roommates in one of the townhomes on the northeast side of the community.

  To the north, in front of the home that we designated the police station, I spotted two vehicles parked in the driveway. The garage door stood open and it appeared that two men were moving some furniture around, but I couldn’t tell if they were bringing it in or taking it out.

  When we returned from Providence last night, news of the run on the community spread quickly throughout our own. The tale of how I shot one of the crazies in the field across the way had already made its way around, and the new tale that included us wiping seven or eight crazies off the map made for an even greater tale.

  I expected that this would peak the interest of some in the community, but I hadn’t expected our actions to fuel a fire. I was shocked and surprised by the turnout this morning, just twelve hours later. I was also relieved.

  After what happened last night, I realized how truly unprepared and vulnerable we actually were.

  I sipped my coffee and had the sudden feeling that things were just passing me by. It was only six thirty in the morning, but I seemed to be the only person in this community that wasn’t busy getting things prepped.

  Feeling sorry for myself, I turned away from the hustle and bustle and looked down at the rose garden, my wife’s final resting place.

  “I miss you so much, baby.”

  I wish I had been able to bring my children back with me and lay them to rest with their mother. I missed them dearly.

  I thought about the many times I asked them to leave me alone in my office, or the times that they wanted me to play and I said later, I have work to do. I thought about Mark asking if we could go fishing on the weekend and Katie wanting to fly the new kite her grandmother bought for her.

  I always had so little time for them. And now they were gone.

  I felt like the worst father in the world, and there was no taking that back.

  I left the coffee cup sitting on the deck railing and went back into the house. I needed to get dressed and get busy. I had to keep myself busy before my thoughts overwhelmed me.

  * * *

  After a quick shower, I got dressed in jeans and a printed t-shirt, slipped on a soft shell jacket and a pair of boots and left the house. I had one of my 1911s in a paddle holster on my right hip with two spare magazines in holsters on my left. My SKS was slung over my right shoulder and my go bag was over my left, repacked and stocked with more ammo.

  I exited through the front door and walked down the slope of grass, heading right for the group. Brian was still leading them in PT. They had moved on to up/downs, which brought back memories of football practice in high school.

  My legs started to ache just watching. As I said, I was a bit out of shape these days.

  When I drew closer, I saw Brian’s backpack and STG lying about ten feet to his left. Good boy. I hoped Bob, wherever he was, was also packing.

  I had to find Charlie and let him have his pick from the arsenal. I also had to check on supply and medical and make sure these designated homes were staffed. I’d need to make lists of supplies and put together a group I could lead on a supply run.

  And I almost forgot that I had promised to review Bob’s security and patrol procedures. I started this morning feeling like I had nothing to do, and now I found myself wondering where I’d find the time.

  “Okay, three more, people. Don’t quit on me now!” Brian shouted.

  He saw me from the corner of his eye and he held up a finger in my direction.

  “Okay, two more, push it, come on. And one more, you can do it! Great job, everyone. Go ahead and take a minute, have some water.”

  I kneeled next to Brian’s gear and set down my own. He knelt beside me and reached for his canteen.

  “Good morning,” he said as he unscrewed the cap. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes,” I said, watching him drink. “I see you’ve been busy.”

  He nodded his head and recapped his canteen. “I’m real proud of them. They were all anxious and raring to go. They’ve been at it forty-five minutes now.”

  “Excellent work.” I said and punched his shoulder.

  “What’s on your agenda?” Brian asked.

  “I’m going to make sure Bob is doing okay with his recruitment and training and make sure he has patrols set up and schedules worked out. I have to find someone I can put in charge of supplies and medical. And I’m going take a few people on a supply run today.”

  “What time? I’ll be ready.”

  I shook my head.

  “Negative. You’ve got a lot to do with these folks and Bob’s people. If there’s a run on us like over at Providence, I want our people to be prepared. They need to be able to defend themselves. I want all of your attention focused on getting these boots ready.”

  “Yes, sir,” he saluted me. “I’m going to start spending my time at the command post, so if you’re looking for me, you’ll probably find me there. If you have time later, check in with me and I’ll show you our command structure and training schedule. I’ve already picked out a few of the guys here that I think would make good squad leaders.”

  “I’ll make time. I’m looking forward to it.”


  We both stood and brushed grass and soil from our pants. I shouldered my gear and said, “Catch you later.”

  “Yeah, dude, later.” After I took a few steps he called back, “Be careful, man.”

  “You know it.”

  As I passed the group who were now sitting on the grass and enjoying their break, I waved to them and they all waved back. Brian immediately fell back into drill instructor mode and ordered the boots to their feet for another round.

  While he counted off more up/downs, I turned north on Crest Drive toward what would now be known as the Randall Oaks Police Department. It was only a two minute walk, and I was really enjoying the morning air.

  The garage door stood open, but only one car was now parked in the driveway. The two men were still inside moving things around. I saw that they’d actually been bringing furniture out to the garage area. They now had a couple of desks, some filing cabinets, a work bench table and some chairs, turning it into a nice bullpen.

  I stepped into the cool garage. “Hey fellas. How’s it going?”

  The small man at the desk I recognized as Dennis. He walked his dog every morning in the grassy common field outside my home. He had short cropped brown hair and bright blue eyes. We’d exchanged friendly nods or a wave from time to time, but I didn’t really know him.

  “Good, sir,” Dennis said.

  “We’re fine, sir,” the other man said.

  I’d seen him around before, too, but I didn’t know his name. He was a pretty tall and stocky fellow. Not the type of guy you’d want to meet in an alley at night.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know your name,” I said to the big man.

  “My name is Rory.” He stuck out his hand and I shook. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  “Good to meet you. Is Bob around?”

  Dennis nodded and cocked a thumb toward the small door behind him. “He’s inside setting things up, sir.”

  “Thank you, Dennis.” I started to walk pass the two men and then stopped a couple of feet away. I turned around and said, “Guys, just call me Matt. Please.”

  Both men looked at each other for a moment and then turned to me and nodded.