Against the Grain by Ian Daniels

Breanne’s spot.  
    “Well, what do you think?” She asked me.
    “I’d say it’s probably what it looks like. Enough gear for four guys, nothing really out of the ordinary that makes me think they were much more than some traveling looters.”
    I watched as she got up from the ground and gathered her pack. A minor but painful looking scratch on her lower neck that extended down towards her shoulder caught my attention and she winced slightly when the backpack’s strap landed close to the affected area.  
    “You wa nt me to take a look at that?” I nodded at her collar line.
    “It 's okay, not a big deal. I just caught a branch when I wasn’t paying attention back when the shooting started.”  
    “Big deal or not I bet it stings like a bitch and you don’t want it getting infected.” I had seen much worse, but I had also been the recipient of more scrapes, burns and bruises then I could count and knew how well the good ones could hurt. Also with our lack of good medicines these days, the last thing anyone wanted to do was try to treat an infection.
    As I retrieved the little bit of a first aid kid I had with me, Breanne unzipped her light fleece jacket to reveal a nice raw and red patch of skin and small dried trickle of blood that had leaked down her arm.  
    “Better lose the shirt too,” I said trying to sound nonchalant.  
    “I can just… okay, sure,” she hesitated, then gingerly pulled her hurt arm from the sleeve and lifted the tee shirt over her head.
    There usually wasn’t much vanity between us, or at least there was always the appropriate amount, but it wasn’t like we hadn’t been swimming at the beach before; we just usually were with the rest of the family and not alone… together.
    With her good arm crossed over her chest, the loose tee shirt hung down and kept from completely exposing her upper body. We both knew there was no reason to hide, but there was also no reason to be blatant about things either.    
    The small puncture had cut into the flesh of her shoulder and had bled a little, but the red rash like scrape I knew was what would be causing the most discomfort. I delicately lifted and moved her bra strap to hang off her shoulder to be able to clean the entire area with a small disinfectant soaked pad. Her neck flushed and the barely audible, sharp intake of air at the touch of my finger to her skin brought a quick flicker of a smile to my face. Even with all the tension of the day’s events, and probable impending death every day after, we were still only human.
    “Is it always this quiet out here?” Breanne asked, breaking the rhythm of my own heartbeat that was drumming away in my ears.
    “Yeah, kind of I guess,” I refocused. “This is your first time away in a while and the world has gotten a lot quieter these days… I feel it too. It does get spooky sometimes, but you get used to it.”
    “It just seems so lonely.”  
    I probably thought so too, once, a long time ago. I could barely remember back that far now, back to when normal reactions and feelings were… normal. This was my new normal now.
    “That should do it,” I announced, putting the cap on the little tube of antiseptic ointment after setting her bra strap carefully back into place. “I only had a few big Band-Aids with me, too big for what you needed but it should be a little extra padding anyway.”
    “Thank you,” s he said, sounding nearly timid.
    “No problem… You want my nuts?”
    “What?” she gasped.
    “Peanuts, cashews, some almonds…” I shook the plastic bag of trail mix out in front of me.
    “Oh I thought you…”
    “I know what you thought,” I smiled at her. When there was an opening, I liked to embrace any opportunity of breaking tension while also creating a slightly more awkward situation at the same time. It amused me.
    “And what about what I said on the radio? Breanne said a short time later after sipping from the water bottle we were sharing.
    “Uh…” I