Ariel had kept the gas pedal pressed to the floor until we left the small town behind. Once we were well past the outskirts, continuing our push north, we find a county park with a creek running through it. She pulls off the road and finds a spot to park in a secluded area with trees and shrubs, even picnic tables. When she opens my door, the flowing creek echoes between the narrow banks and fills me with hope of a much-needed break. But I need Ariel's nursing skills before I can enjoy a reprieve.

"Oh." She frowns. "Come on. We can use the creek to get you cleaned up."

As she leads me toward the water, I keep a constant check on our perimeter. Again, I note that so far today we haven't seen the rider and his fiery red horse. He must be on the other side of the world wreaking havoc.

I sit on a large rock as Ariel prepares to help me. The entire time my groans fill the air, and I'm fearful I'll attract a predator, whether animal or human.

Ariel raises my shirt to have a look at my side. "Let's take this off. It's drenched in blood, and it'll only get in the way."

Pain flares like sharp needles stabbing the edges and depth of the elongated gash. With a grunt, I lift my shirt up and raise it over my head. Ariel helps me pull it off. She tosses it on the grassy creek bank, and when she turns back, her eyes fall over the bared form of my upper body, drifting down to my wound.

With her gaze shifting awkwardly, her fingers move toward my stomach and the bleeding gash. She pauses, starts again, pauses once more.

"Something wrong?" I ask.

"No." Her fingers hover an inch from the wound. "It's just... it's a lot of blood."

"That I'm losing by the second."

"Right." She dives into my backpack and rifles through the contents until she comes out with a hand towel and more bandages that we stocked up on before we left the gas station. She also has some extra napkins, which she starts with, soaking and wiping, dabbing and pressing. Each time she contacts the gash, I wince and groan in pain, but the wound gets cleaner each time. Finally, she holds a wad of napkins against my side and glances up at me. "Keep pressure on it."

"Okay." I nod.

While I'm busy applying pressure, she dips the end of the hand towel in the creek and brings it up to my side. I move the napkins out of the way, and she cleans the trickling blood. My abs tighten from the pain and the effort of trying to keep the edges of the cut close together, hoping to minimize the bleeding.

"Hold the towel against it," she says, her mouth changing from a frown to wince.

While I do as she instructs, she re-Superglues the wound, layering it thick all the way across the length while holding it together. She applies constant pressure until it dries, then she peels open a bandage and sticks it on my side. She repeats this process as quickly as she can with two more adhesive strips, and then she's done.

There are four more ibuprofens, so she gives me two with plans to save the rest for tomorrow.

As I rest at a picnic table, she washes my bloody shirt in the creek, wrings it out and lays it over a rock. During the wait for it to dry, I feel exposed. After all, I've only known her since yesterday. But a day in the apocalypse feels much longer than an average day. In the sun's heat, it only takes about thirty minutes for it to dry out and become wearable.

Ariel rinses the hand towel in the creek and hangs it out to dry. Then she refills my canteen. She refuses to let me help; says I need to let the blood clot.

"You need to rest." She paces over to the van and opens the back doors. It must have been a work van, seeing there were no rear seats, just a flat carpeted floor. "Lie down and I'll get our stuff."

A tiny grin cracks my lips.

"What?" she says, shrugging.

"Oh nothing." She had said, 'our stuff'. Not yours and mine. But ours.

"Go lie down." She grows serious. "You need rest. And I'll get your stuff. And mine." She grins wisely.

I let the moment pass and climb into the back of the van, find a spot in the middle and relax. "Holler at the first sign of trouble," I say.

"I will."

With most everything in my backpack, even her extra shirt, she comes waltzing to the back of the van and sets the bag to one side.

"You're taking up the entire back of the van," she says. "Scoot over."

After I make room for her, she sits next to me with two power bars in hand. My last two. With her insistence that I don't help her, she positions my pack behind me so I can sit up to eat.

"We have a little over half a tank of gas," she says. "If we keep going, we'll enter the city. I say we steer clear of it. Only trouble to be found there with more people around."

"I concur."

"Anyway. There's bound to be a gas station. We'll have to figure out how to fill up our tank without power."

I allow that tiny grin to emerge again.

"What?" she says.

"Nothing," I reply. Our tank.

"Anyway." Her expression falls. "How do we get gas without power?"

"We'll have to find an older station, or one with a generator." An idea comes to me. "Or we siphon off other cars."

"That might be easier."

We sit there for a while, and then daylight turns to night, and we end up lying there with the doors closed and locked. Days and nights pass. We move on down the road and find a general store where we manage to find two cans of chicken noodle soup with the peel off lids, a small can of almonds, and a box of microwaveable popcorn. Obviously, our plan of action is short term. We'll have to figure out something for the long term, eventually. In the hardware section, I cut up a hose with Ariel's knife and we use it to siphon gas from abandoned vehicles in the parking lot. We fill our tank, and a small gas can. Every day that passes, we dodge red eyed humans and wild animals but never see the second rider and his horse during the daylight hours. Only at night, during the next week, we spot his red glow on the dark horizon twice.

So, we develop a routine. Move around during the day and lay low at night.

As time passes, my wound starts to heal. And as it does, I find myself growing even more accustomed to having Ariel around, especially when I wake up the next morning in the back of the van with her snuggled up against my side.