"Mason," I called in a weaker voice. I had called his name so often my throat was now paying the price. I tried not to dwell on the various aches and pains I felt, but I couldn't ignore the muscles I usually didn't use. They were definitely cursing me as my movements became more sluggish. Mason was right, I wasn’t used to this kind of physical labor and I definitely didn't belong here. I tried to take my mind off the pain, and my grumbling tummy for that matter, by fantasizing about when Rick would find us. I had the shower and meal all planned out. At least my raincoat had kept me relatively dry, but sloshing through the wet underbrush had left my pant legs drenched from the knee down and my tennis shoes were so soggy, I felt uncomfortable walking in them. "And after I use all the hot water in camp, I'm sleeping for days," I mumbled out loud.

My words were met with movement off to my left in the thick underbrush between the mountain and me. Holding back a shriek of terror, I waited for some crazed animal to leap out on me. After a few seconds, my heart removed itself from my throat and reason took over.

"Mason?" I asked cautiously, creeping closer to the spot where the noise had originated.

"Kimberly," his voice said weakly.

Charging through the brush, I found Mason nestled in the embrace of a large bush. He was virtually hidden from sight and I would have never found him if I wouldn't have been talking to myself.

"Are you okay?" I asked, taking in the multiple abrasions that marred his handsome features. Do I look that bad? I couldn't help thinking.

"Not really," he said, throwing me for a loop. With the exception of his raincoat being pretty much ripped to shreds in the front, and the multiple scratches on his face and hands, he looked relatively okay. I watched as he struggled to a sitting position that he couldn't quite manage. He wound up settling for resting on his elbows. I stepped forward to offer help, but was puzzled about what his injury was.

"Are you hurt?" I asked.

"You could say that," he said, looking at me gravely as he slowly lifted the edge of his trashed raincoat to reveal his legs.

The acid rolled in my stomach. “Oh my God,” I said as I took in the sight of his legs. It took me a moment to comprehend what I was looking at. The left leg looked fine with the exception of multiple tears in the jeans, but it was his right leg that made me swallow back the bile rising in my throat. A sharp, jagged-looking stick poked out where there should have been denim. It was only after looking at it closer that I realized the white stick wasn't a stick at all—it was his bone. The impact of the fall had obviously snapped the bone in half, making the jagged edge pierce through not only the skin, but also the denim from his jeans.

I swayed on my feet, looking at the bleeding oozing mess that just hours before had been a functional limb.

"Kimberly, look at me," Mason said, finally dragging my attention from his mangled leg. It took me a moment to finally look up into his face that was devoid of color. "Are you okay?" he asked, voicing the same question I had just asked him.

I laughed a humorless laugh. No, I wasn't okay. Nothing about this situation was okay. I wanted to rant and rave, to stomp my feet, but most of all, I just wanted to be home. I pulled it together before answering him. Now was not the time to lose it. Now was the time to pull on my big girl panties as Quinn would say and figure out how I was going to get us out of this mess.

"I'm fine," I said, finally meeting his eyes. "Well, except for a broken finger," I said, holding up my finger to show him.

He chuckled and then grimaced in pain as I flipped him off while displaying my injury.

"Yeah, this would have come in handy two days ago when you were still pissing me off," I said wryly.

He shot me a small smile laced with pain.

"Sooo, guess I'm the last man standing," I continued to joke as I pulled my backpack off. "Where's your bag?" I asked more seriously.

"I'm guessing halfway between us and the spot where the earth decided to open up out from under us. I lost the walkie-talkie too," he said, obviously disgusted with himself. "But I did manage to hold onto this," he said, holding up his flashlight.

I nearly wept when I saw it. With the rain still continuing to fall, I had begun to doubt that help would come today, making another night outdoors inevitable.

Holding my tears in check, I went for a saucy comeback. "Well, I guess I'll keep you around," I said, digging through my bag. I pulled out one of the three bottles of water from inside. I handed it to Mason to open since my finger made it impossible to twist the lid.

He took a long drink and then handed it back to me. I took a smaller drink, but he forced me to drink more. "Obtaining more water won't be an issue," he said as the rain continued to pelt us.

I nodded before dealing with the most pressing issue at hand. "What are we going to do about that?" I asked pointedly, looking at his leg.

"I won't be able to move until we stabilize it, but even then, short of scooting on my ass, I won't be doing much moving."

"Stabilize?" I asked, trying to not think about the idea of touching the mangled mess and causing him more pain.

"Yeah, you'll have to help me stabilize it," he said. "In your bag, you should have a first aid kit. Double check to make sure it's in there."

I pulled the flap of the bag open and reached inside with my one good hand. I fumbled around a little, maneuvering the other two water bottles to the side until I finally felt the small rectangular box with my fingers. "Aha," I said, holding the box up triumphantly.

"Okay, good. Open it up and see if the ACE bandage is in there," he said, lying back down, clearly spent from holding himself up.

I fumbled with the latch of the box with my one hand and finally leaned forward to use my teeth to pop the stubborn lock. The box sprang open and I had to juggle the contents as they threatened to spill out. Taking a quick inventory, I saw several different sized Band-Aids, a handful of packets of Advil, individually wrapped alcohol wipes, a roll of gauze, a small tube of antibiotic cream and a rolled-up ACE bandage. I had to bite back a near hysterical laugh at the small tube of antibiotic cream. It would be as effective at treating Mason's open wound as applying duct tape to a leak in a dam.

"Did you find it?" Mason asked, trying to peer at me from his prone position.

"Yeah," I said, trying to shake off my despair as I shoved the Band-Aids, gauze, cream, wipes and pain relievers back into the small white plastic box. I held up the rolled-up bandage into his line of vision so he could see it.

"Okay, good," he said, raising himself back up on his elbows. "You need to search around and find two branches that are each roughly two-feet long, with maybe a quarter-inch diameter. They need to be as straight as you can find. Stay within sight of where I am so you don't get turned around and lost," he added, sinking back down with his eyes closed in obvious pain.

"Are you okay?" I asked, reaching for his hand unconsciously. The ashen look his face had taken was scary. Tears flooded my eyes as the enormity of the situation overwhelmed me. He needed me like no one ever had before. This was a situation I couldn't hide from and no one was waiting in the wings to swoop in to do it for me.

"I will be once we stabilize my leg. Whenever I move the pain ricochets throughout my body," he said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't cry, it's all good," he added, trying to reassure me.