She needs medicine.

“I need some medicine, antibiotic. I got worked over pretty good about six day ago. One of them sliced me pretty good with a knife, he and his friend won‘t be bothering any one else again”

She turns her back to you, and pulls up the back of the thin, cotton shirt. Two inflamed and puffy diagonal scars run from her left shoulder down to her abdomen. In some places, the wounds are covered by gauze. They’re at least partial healed, but not well, and you suspect that in places the cuts might be infected, portions are weeping clear fluid mixed with traces of blood..

“You need to see a doctor. You should have been stitched up”

Isabel shakes her head, and pulls her shirt back down as she turn around to face you. “Where am I going to find a doctor? The antibiotic will bring the swelling down and help kill off any infection I maybe fighting. So, I have to go into town and find a drug store or a doctor’s office, and hope that nobody has been there first. Otherwise..” she didn’t continue.

You nod your assent reluctantly. “You’re right. After we get the drugs, I need to look at your back and clean you up. I might even need to give you a few stitches, alright?

“Of course. I’d be grateful, I’ve had no one to look at them aside from what I’ve been able to do myself. She walks back to the bike, and picks up the heavy leather jacket slipping into it, her long dark hair blowing gracefully in the wind as she does. As she finishes putting on the jacket and her helmet, she tells you to drive the car over into the woodline and cover it with brush waiting for her there until she gets back. Reluctantly you refuse, overcoming your fears about returning to the city, and instead tell her that you’re coming with her. She pauses, unmoving and nods her agreement.

The two of you drive the car into the wood, and cover it with branches, but not before you’ve pulled out the keys, and grabbed the box of ammunition. After some thought, you take your bag out of the back and cover it about a hundred feet from the car. That way if someone does discover the VW, at least they won’t get your stuff as well. Or so you hope.

The two of you walk silently up to the ribbon of concrete leading into the city, and stand beside Isabel’s motorcycle. She pushes the visor of her helmet down over her face. “Let’s go, hopefully we can be in and out without any problems. We don’t want to be stuck there after dark, so we have to move fast.” You check the clip of the Glock, making sure the magazine is full, and then smack it back into place.

“You ridden a bike before?” Isabel asks through a voice muffled by the helmet as she slides onto the motorcycle.

“Yeah” you say as you sit down behind her, and hold her close around the waist. She kicks the cycle into life, and rapidly accelerating she steers you back into the city you’d just left.