Dark Washington Part 6-6.5

Chapter 6 continues in the next post.

Chapter 6:
To Monroe

Paul ran for about twenty minutes. He eventually collapsed to the ground, exhausted. Hiding in a cluster of bushes, he relaxed. He couldn’t see anyone after him. He must have lost them. Or did the bandit come alone? That wouldn’t make sense. It could have been, though. “Did they underestimate me this much?” he thought, irritated.
Paul was hungry, and sat down to eat. They canned food was tasting worse as he ate more of it. It could have been there ever since the start of the war. Even before that, perhaps. Could canned food still be good after this long? It still sustained him, but he doubted he was eating enough nutrients. It wasn’t really the time to worry about a balanced diet. He had to keep moving to get to Monroe. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too far.
Monroe might be gone, though. Possibly even a hideout for thieves. What would he do then? His supplies couldn’t sustain him much longer than that. It was unlikely he could find anymore. Bandits had looted most of the food in the area. However, there was the bandit he shot… could she have any supplies? Maybe even a better gun. His was too weak to be trustworthy. It would be a risk, if any other bandits were still around. They probably would have even looted their unconscious companion for supplies, and left her to die. But from the fact he hadn’t been followed, he guessed there were not any.
Walking back, Paul realized his legs were bleeding from being scraped on branches and weeds during his running. It didn’t matter too much, as they were only minor cuts. However, the wound in his side was a problem. After the war, though, many of the doctors had died treating the troops. With the destruction of most modern technology, modern medicine had also vanished. If a cut got infected, death was a likely result. The sooner he got to Monroe, the sooner he could wrap it in cloth to prevent infection.
Paul quickly recognized the area he had shot the bandit. He would have to be careful; other bandits could be nearby or the bandit he shot could have woken up by now. No one was around, and he soon spotted the unconscious bandit.
The bandit was carrying a powerful rifle. She had a good amount of supplies in her backpack. There was food, ammunition, and some medical supplies. Paul rejoiced at this, especially the two bottles of disinfectant. That was getting rarer as time went on. Paul used some of the disinfectant, a Hydrogen Peroxide/water mixture, and wrapped his wound and scratches in the linen.
Now, what to do about the bandit? Without the supplies she wouldn’t last long. The wounds the shot had given her looked like they were getting worse. Paul decided to pour some of the H2O2 disinfectant on her wounds. They could get infected, too, and then she would stand an even lower chance of surviving. The pain from the chemical seemed to startle her.
“Ow…” she mumbled, still barely conscious. Paul jumped back, startled. What would he do if she woke up? Would she yell for help to the other bandits? Should he knock her unconscious again? It would be rather cruel to kill her; after all, she did let him live. To his distress, she sat up, regaining consciousness.
“Ow… where am I?” she asked. She looked up at Paul, confused.
“You’re that guy I found from under the bridge. Did you come to help me? Who injured me?”
Paul felt guilty for shooting her. She didn’t seem to even intend to capture him. She could have left on her own. Not wanting her to know he had shot her, Paul said, “It must have been one of the other bandits. I just saw you here…”
The bandit sprang up and kicked him before he could react. He fell to the ground. “Liar!” she shouted, “you were the one who shot me! I saw! At least take responsibility for your actions!” She kicked him in the side again.
Paul shouted, surprised at the unexpected attack. “So you knew all along! You fooled me!” he accused, “I was only trying to defend myself! Last time you saw me you were threatening me with a gun!”
“I understand what you did. I just don’t like people who lie. And I’m getting revenge,” she grinned.
“What do you want, then!?” Paul shouted.
“I want my food and supplies back,” she replied, “and I thought I was the bandit. Aren’t the bandits supposed to be the ones doing the stealing?”
“Fine, take it, and go back to your thief friends!”
“Actually, I’m not part of the North Columbia bandits anymore. I decided to go off on my own,” she said, “I’m not really a bandit now.”
Paul looked puzzled. “Fine, do what you want, just go.”
“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to travel with me. I don’t know where any towns are.”
“Why would I want to travel with a person like you?!” Paul shouted.
“Because I have a gun and experience. Besides, don’t you owe me for letting you live?”
“Fine, but only until I get to Monroe.
“That’s fine.
Paul stood up and brushed the dirt off of his jeans. He still didn’t trust the bandit, especially after what just happened, but help is always a good thing. Paul gave the supplies back to the bandit, though he didn’t know if the supplies he had were enough to make it past Monroe if it no longer existed. If they didn’t, he could still hunt. Or steal the needed supplies from the bandit.
The sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky. It looked as if they could get to Monroe by tomorrow.
CHAPTER 6 CONTINUES IN THE NEXT POST