I rearranged the furniture in the living room so that the center of the room was empty. I started two piles on the carpet: one for things I would take with me and one for things I would donate to the remaining residents of Randall Oaks. I didn’t expect this chore would take too long, but three hours later I was still at it and my travel pile was much too large. With a heavy sigh I finally sat down to pare down the travel pile. Many of the items in this pile were extra weapons, food, tools, and books. As I rummaged, I noticed I had not taken any mementos of my wife and children. What the fuck did that say about me? Only three months had passed since I lost my entire family and already they were fading from memory. When deciding what I needed to take with to start a new life, I had packed ten knives and some autographed books, but not a single damn picture of my precious babies. Angered by my oversight, I picked up an autographed copy of The Beardless Warriors and chucked it across the room where it slammed hard against a wall.
What do You think about Mad Swine (Book 2): Dead Winter?
