I drove for a while with Kit nibbling at the sleeve of my new jacket. Every ten seconds I'd glance in the mirror to see him still lying in the back. The truck was flying down the road. My tires were sliding, I was going to get into an accident. I didn't seem to care very much. I just needed to get away from there. Someone could have been following him. What was I doing? Why was I suddenly being a good person? Scratch that. I haven't done anything terrible to warrant myself to be a bad person.

     The snow was getting worse. I pulled to the side and turned down an alleyway between two buildings. It was just wide enough to fit the truck in, side mirrors just touching the brick on either side. I twisted the key and pulled it out of the ignition. He was still lying back there motionless. Maybe he was dead. If he was it would make my life so much easier. I could just throw him out and onto the side of the road and leave. It was too bad he was breathing, barely.

     He must be injured. He wouldn't have sought my help otherwise unless he was extremely naive. I turned in my seat and climbed so I was sitting between the two seats looking into the back. My hand hovered over his mouth, I could feel small puffs of breath brush against the palm of my hand. I finally pulled the hood of his jacket down and unzipped the front sliding it off. At the moment I wasn't too focused on his face, although this was the first time, I could actually put a face to the voice, I was too focused on the shirt underneath soaked through with blood.

     I sat there gaping at the red-stained material, for a brief second, I thought about tossing him back outside into the snow. I've never been injured to such an extent. This is when the realization set in:

I am in way over my head.

     I've rescued, albeit reluctantly, a very injured man that I have no knowledge of whatsoever. I turned over his right hand seeing the blood dried on it. "Fantastic." I muttered rolling my eyes. I couldn't get out of the truck to go to the back and dig through my boxes of stuff. I did, however, have an unconventional way of trying to stop the bleeding.

     I awoke hours later to the sound of Kit barking. She was not the ideal animal to have when instilling fear in mysterious people. The front window of the truck had a layer of snow already on top of it. I glanced to the side mirrors, which were coated in a thin layer of icy droplets, to see the pitch-black blanket of night. The inside of the pickup was pitch black; Kit's barks were squeaky and high-pitched, they were continuous. My hand moved carefully down the seat reaching the flashlight I had in the cupholder.

     I turned quickly, clicking the button on the side of the light stick, pulling my knife from its sleeve at my waist. The back seat was suddenly flooded with a yellowish round light. He was awake with his back pressed up against the side door. Kit was barking and biting at the blanket that was half-covering him. "What did you do to me?" I returned my gaze to his face, swinging the flashlight around with me. "And....what is that thing?" he asked. By that 'thing' I was guessing he was referring to Kit. She needed to be groomed, at the moment she looked like a small cotton ball dipped in ink.

     I opened my mouth to speak only for no words to come out. His eyes were closed, probably because I was shining the light right in his face. While he was unconscious, I already thoroughly patted him down for any weapons. The only things he had on his person were an old antique lighter and a handgun with one bullet left. They were all mine now anyway. My thumb pressed down on the button of the flashlight. The light suddenly drained from the vehicle. Kit was panting now, she had given up on the squeaky barking as soon as I turned the flashlight on.

     The truck was quiet for a moment. I don't think he knew what to say, God knows I didn't. I suddenly wished I were alone again on the road. This was the first time I came face to face with having a conversation with a person in years. I leaned back feeling my back press against the main console. There was a silence between us, two strangers alone and unsure of what to say to one another. I could hear him shuffling around, he was nothing but a dark figure at the moment. "I took it," I paused, he probably didn't know what I meant, "- the gun, I mean." I continued.

     My voice was raspy, louder than I thought it would be. For the first time in what has been my forever, I was speaking to somebody. I was actually talking to another living human being. "What's your name?" he asked, he was rather quiet - cautious.

"Your injury isn't self-inflicted. Whoever did this, are they following you?" I asked, purposely skipping over his previous question.

     He stayed quiet. There was a quick click and a flash of light. For a second, I saw his eyes, they were green. "Now," I said motioning to him with the handgun, "is anyone following you?" I asked.

"I don't think so." he answered slowly, his green eyes focused solely on the gun in my hand.

     His hand quickly went to cover his side, his eyes were squeezed closed and dark eyebrows knit together. I could see a light layer of sweat covering his skin, I wondered if he had a fever. "I don't think so." I whisper to myself, mocking his voice. He looked to be in pain. I didn't currently have access to my hoard of medication, he'd have to suck it up. I lowered the gun but not fully letting it go just yet. "It's all I had, would've died otherwise." I said motioning to the menstrual pad and duct tape attached to the side of his torso.

     Truly it was either that or let him bleed out to death. "You really couldn't do anything else?" he asked, one green eye popping open to glare at me.

I scoffed, "Could be worse, I was just gonna toss you to the road and drive away."

     He looked stunned when I said that. Did he think I was a kind person who wanted to help him? "You should know, I hate people." 

Skycrystal23