Savages Read Online Free Page A

the fighting started, she would have left by now. She was not the town’s only medical doctor anymore, thanks to the Phoenix Initiative, but I knew she would not stand idle when people were hurt and dying.
    Next to the house Allison and I share is the place her grandmother lived until her death a few years before the Outbreak. Gabriel lives there now. He has made a number of improvements to the property, including a half-acre corral and a small barn where he keeps his horse. I jogged into his back yard and entered the barn through the open front entrance.
    The barn smelled of hay, grain, piss, shit, and sweaty horse. Red was in his stall, head up, prancing and whinnying, spooked by the explosions. I walked over to the five-foot wall that contained him and spoke soothingly.
    “Easy now, big fella. Easy now …”
    I put my hand under his nose and scratched and rubbed his neck just below the ear. He calmed quickly. Red was an agreeable horse most of the time, but tended to bolt when startled. Fortunately for Gabe, Red did not startle easily. I grabbed a lead rope and clipped it to one of the rings in Red’s halter, opened the door to his stall, and led him to the dirt-floored tack room. A western saddle hung over a sawhorse in the corner, along with blankets and reins. I laid a blanket over the horse’s back, saddled him, and connected a bit and reins to his halter. He accepted the bit without complaint.
    “Come on, big guy,” I said as I swung into the saddle. “Let’s see what you can do.”
    Red walked slowly out of the barn and paused a few seconds to sniff the air. I had ridden him enough times to know he was not one to be rushed. Impatience nagged at me as I gently kicked his haunches, urging him forward. He walked, then began to trot. I kicked harder and he picked up to a light gallop. I kicked with more insistence. When Red finally realized my hands were loose on the reins, he opened his stride and gained speed. I kept urging him on until we were flying over the grass bordering Seminary Street toward the north side of town. Red might have been slow to get started, but once he got going, he could really move.
    The smoke grew thicker as I rode closer to the gate, orange tongues of fire lapping angrily in the near distance. My eyes watered and I had to put my goggles on and pull my scarf over my mouth and nose. Red did not seem bothered. I tugged the reins to slow him down as we approached the clinic.
    Through the black and gray haze, I could see nurses and volunteers moving in front of the entrance. I dismounted Red, turned him toward home, and slapped him on the haunches. He took a few clattering steps, swung his big head in my direction, and gave me a mildly offended glare.
    “Go on, Red. Go home.”
    He snorted and set off at a trot.
    I jogged toward the clinic, rifle clutched, gear bouncing on my vest and belt. The smoke had been thick when I arrived, but the wind shifted direction and I could see better now. Near the gate, low wooden buildings burned furiously amidst shattered rubble. I glanced toward where my two stalls were, and sure enough, they were smoldering slag heaps. There might be something salvageable, I thought, but it would have to wait.
    “Allison!” I shouted. No one answered. I yelled again. Same result. A nurse I knew named Brett Nolan walked past and I grabbed him by the arm.
    “Brett, where’s Allison?”
    “Inside,” he said, prying my hand from his arm. “She’s busy. There are a lot of wounded.”
    “But she’s okay?”
    “She’s fine.”
    Relief flooded through me. I had to put my head between my knees until a bout of lightheadedness passed.
    “You okay?” Brett asked.
    “Yeah. Just catching my breath.” Feeling better, I stood up straight.
    “We could use some help,” Brett said.
    “What do you need me to do?”
    “Drop your gear in the lobby and go talk to Samantha. She’s in the storage room behind the reception desk.”
    “Will do.”
    I put my rifle, vest, and