Savages by James Cook Page B

daylight hours, I helped Miranda train Johnny Green while Allison was at the clinic. She issued a decree to her coworkers that she was leaving at four o’clock the next few days because her husband was going out of town. She did not need to point out I was headed into danger. Anyone who left town did so at enormous peril. And I had a reputation for throwing myself into awful situations at every turn.
    Work continued on the north gate. Gabe and I managed to salvage some of the trade locked in storage there, but most had been destroyed. Volunteers cleared away the rubble, while the engineers from Third Platoon figured out a way to shore up the gap. The shipping containers were a good temporary fix, but something more permanent was needed. Rumor had it the plan was to erect a wooden palisade between the salvageable sections of concrete and reinforce it with the dirt-filled containers. There was certainly enough lumber around to make it work. But the townsfolk who had helped build the gate were unhappy about the engineers’ solution. They had worked hard in those hectic early days, all their hopes pinned on building a wall around their home to keep the infected out. The tree-trunk poles would look hopelessly fragile next to the concrete pillars, reinforced or not. The new gate would be a constant reminder of what had been lost, and how much more they had to lose.
    Finally, the morning arrived. I woke up early and made breakfast. It turned out to be a waste of time. Allison and I sat across the table from one another with not a scrap of appetite between us. My wife’s eyes were red from crying the night before. Her hand strayed often to her stomach.
    “This is ridiculous,” I said.
    “Which part?”
    “All of it. Let’s go sit down on the couch.”
    “What about this stuff?”
    “Fuck it.”
    “Okay.”
    We sat on the couch and did the best thing either of us could think of, which was to hold each other and wait for the knock at the door. I pulled my wife close and put a hand on her stomach.
    “How you holding up in there junior?” I said. “Doing some pushups? Jumping rope on your umbilical cord? Keep it up. Mommy needs you to be good and strong so you can come out quick. Nobody around here wants a long delivery. No slacking.”
    She laughed a little and wiped her eyes. “Just come back,” she said. “That’s all I ask, Eric. Just come back.”
    “That’s a relief. I thought you wanted me to find some diapers while I was out there.”
    A smile. “Well, if you happen to spot any …”
    And then I heard it; knock, knock, knock .
    “Shit.”
    Allison sat up. “You should answer that.”
    “Are you sure? It’s not too late. I can still back out.”
    “Yes, and feel like a coward for the next ten years. No, Eric. We both know this is something you have to do.
    knock, knock, knock “Mr. Riordan? Are you home?”
    “Yeah,” I shouted. “Just a minute.”
    “Sorry sir.”
    “I’m going to slap that fucker. I hate being called sir. Makes me feel old.”
    Allison smiled. Everything I wanted in the world was in that smile. Now that I knew what it meant to love, really love , with everything I had and everything I would ever be, there was no going back. Without Allison, there was no life. No world. I kissed her softly.
    “I love you, Allison.”
    “I know. You’re the best man I’ve ever known. You can be a knucklehead sometimes, but I love you. Come back to me.”
    Something changed inside me, then. I had felt it before. A soft spot in my chest turned to ice. The tension of leaving fell away. There was no more fear. I wanted to get out that door. I wanted to face the Alliance on their home turf and hit them where they lived. I wanted to get there as soon as I could. And when I did, I would do everything I could to burn them down.
    “I will.”
    Allison looked closely at me, searched my eyes, and nodded to herself. “Go on. I’ll be all right.”
    I hugged my wife one last time, kissed her, and