The sun was setting when I opened my eyes, and I didn't recognize my surroundings. The first thing I noticed upon waking was excruciating pain emanating from my leg. I reached down to clutch my thigh, and a tarp that had been placed over me shifted. I gripped the tarp in my free hand and yanked it off. I looked down at my injury, and it seemed to have stopped bleeding for the time being, even if the handkerchief tied over it was soaked in blood. I prodded it gently and winced. Bad idea. I closed my eyes momentarily, discouraged by my situation, but then I opened them again when I realized that I had no idea what my situation was. I sat up, my hand automatically going to my knife.

I was lying down in front of a crackling fire in a small opening in a stand of trees. I appeared to be away from the road, but I wasn't sure how far. Tied around the opening was a long line of fishing line, forming a square between four trees. Dangling from the line were various cans and other metal objects. If the wind had been blowing, they might have clanged together, but as it was they stood still. I was alone.

Had that guy just left me here? Obviously he had taken me here and covered me with a tarp, but I wasn't sure if he intended on coming back. I appreciated the sentiment of setting an alarm system for any dead that might approach, and I tucked that idea away for future use. As it was, though, I didn't feel safe staying here. My modus operandi when traveling had always been to sleep in trees, and the ground made me feel unsafe. However, with a leg injury there was no way I was climbing anything anytime soon. My best bet was to get back on the road and find shelter as soon as possible. I heaved a sigh and placed my palm on the nearest tree, preparing myself to stand. It was going to be painful, but I didn't have a choice. I had just grabbed a low-hanging branch to pull myself up on when I heard rustling in the nearby trees, and forgoing my knife, I reached into my holster and pulled out my gun. I couldn't fight close-range until I was healed; my gun was my best bet. I switched off the safety and pointed it in the direction that the noise was coming from. My finger rested lightly on the trigger, and I tried to keep my breathing even. I melted back against the tree, keeping low to the ground. I didn't want to fire my gun unless absolutely necessary, as that would attract more dead that I could hardly run away from. My heart pounded painfully in my chest, and I felt the same old sense of fear rising inside of me. I had lived so long with fear I wasn't sure what it was like not to have it anymore. Twigs crackled beneath the feet of whatever was moving, and I knew that it was a person. I just didn't know if the person was dead or alive.

I held my breath until he came into view. It was the same guy, and he was swinging a pair of squirrels from a string dangling from his belt. He came into sight of the little camp and stepped over the alarm line. He didn't even glance at me as he sat down by the fire and pulled the squirrels off of his belt. He shed his crossbow and set to work skinning them.

I belatedly realized that I was still holding my gun. I set the safety back on and put it back in my holster. I let go of the breath I was holding and leaned my head back on the tree, feeling some, but not all of, the fear draining away. The aching started in my leg again, and I straightened it out, not having the strength to get up at the moment. I let my gaze wander over to him, and I watched him as he worked on the squirrels. He never looked in my direction. After he was done skinning them, he poked them both onto sticks and held them over the fire. Despite the situation, my stomach grumbled as I smelled the roasting meat. When they were done, he stood up and brought one over to me, handing it to me without a word. I took it, surprised that he was acknowledging that I was there, and he went back to sit in front of the fire. He dug into his squirrel, and I watched him eat most of his before I finally took a bite of my own. It was very good, and it didn't take me long to finish afterwards. I tossed the stick into the fire when I was done. Part of me wanted to say thank you, but the other part of me remembered my throbbing leg, so I held my tongue. The sun was setting, and it was already dark among the trees, excepting our fire. I stared at the flames, thinking of what I should do. Stay here tonight, if he stayed here? Or leave regardless? I had better chances with another person, but I didn't have any clue what kind of a person he really was. He had punched me, of course, but he had also brought me food and not killed me when he had plenty of opportunity. He had taken me to a safer location. There were several things in his favor, but he was so silent I couldn't get a read on him. I continued watching him as he poked at the fire. I could clearly see the wings on the back of his vest in the waning daylight. Some angel, I thought wryly.

Eventually my leg drew my attention again, and I looked back down at it. My handkerchief was completely soaked through. I untied it and winced as I pulled it off, shaking it out again. Then I rolled it up and twisted it, attempting to drain out some of the blood. A few drops came out, and they splattered onto the ground. I sighed as I looked at it, knowing that it really wouldn't help staunch any more bleeding at this point. I had started to roll it up again to put it back on anyway when something was shoved in my line of sight. I looked up, and he was holding out a handkerchief to me. I hadn't even heard him get up. I paused for a beat before I accepted it from him.

This time I had to say it. "Thank you." He nodded and turned back around to sit by the fire. I tied the new handkerchief tightly around my leg, and felt a little bit better almost instantly. I balled up my old handkerchief and tossed it into the fire. I brought my uninjured leg up to my chest and I propped my chin on it, keeping my eyes on him. The fire sparked and crackled, sending tiny embers out into the air. Every once in a while he fed another stick to it. Finally I felt like I couldn't stand the silence any more. Maybe if he talked I could figure him out a little more. And if I could figure him out, maybe I could figure out where to go from here. "Thank you for keeping me safe while I was unconscious." I tried to inject true gratefulness into my voice; after all, I was. If I thought I was getting a response, though, I was wrong. Instead he just shrugged. I frowned, but I decided that I wasn't giving up that easy. "You're kind of the strong and silent type, aren't you?"

At that he looked over at me, his eyes narrowed into squints. He studied me for long enough that it made me uncomfortable, and I reflexively twitched my fingers, wanting to bring my hand up to my knife. "You can't walk."

Again with the not walking? Was he some kind of parrot? "Yes, I know." I said. "Thanks to the unbelievably bad luck of landing on both a branch and your fist in an extraordinarily small amount of time."

He pinched his lips in a thin line. "I didn't hit your wound. I hit to the side of it."

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back onto the tree behind me. "Yeah." I said, exhaling. "You said that before. Still, you hit me."

I didn't think he was going to respond again, as a few minutes passed in silence, but again he surprised me. "I could have killed you. I just disarmed you."

He was right, of course. His voice was rough and low, but it wasn't unpleasant. He didn't use it any more than was necessary, however. His sentences were short and clipped, and he always seemed to be on the defensive. I opened my eyes again and he was looking at me. When my gaze met his, his eyes darted away. I felt any anger I had towards him drifting away, and my body unclenched. I settled my hands into my lap. "So what do you suggest I do?"

He poked the fire again, and I noted the tensed muscles in his arms. He seemed to be someone who had been at this for a long time; a survivor. A loner. I wondered why he was sitting in the middle of the road, but I knew better than to ask. I wouldn't get any answers. "You gotta heal."

"So I guess I'm stuck." I said, stating the obvious. I balled my hands into fists as I spoke. "Shit." I closed my eyes again, fighting off the despair that threatened to rise when I thought about how much my injury was going to cost me. Silence settled over us again, and I had just begun to run over my options in my head when he spoke again.

"There's a house a mile that way." He pointed further into the trees, east of the way that I had come. "Think we can make it." We? I couldn't have been more shocked if he had gotten down on one knee and proposed marriage. "We'll go in the morning." He turned back to look at me, and there was almost a defiant glimmer in his eyes, as if he was daring me to say no.

"Okay." I said, quickly. If he was offering to help, it was far be it from me to turn it down. "Thank you." This time it was me who was the parrot. He didn't acknowledge my thanks; instead he turned back to the fire and continued to stoke the flames.

The sun set below the horizon, and we sat around the fire in silence again. A few hours passed, and I wondered how I was going to possibly sleep with a stranger in my presence. I had been alone for so long that company completely threw me off, yet he was so quiet it was like I was alone anyways. He never moved from his position in front of the fire, and I don't remember falling asleep.