Journey Into The Aftermath |✔

Chapter fourteen: When There is No Escape

"No...I was...um...stretching my legs and...going for a run." I half lied. In any other case, that would be what I would have done, but I would just want to know if he had left.

His cocky grin never faded. "You know it's ok, right? The world's population is like half a million and declining. So what if...? Well you know."

I closed my eyes and waved my hand in disgust as I turned around. "Eww, no!" Turned away from him, I blinked wildly, convincing myself this wasn't happening right now. "What were you doing anyway?"

"Well you see, there aren't any hot showers waiting for me in any of those houses and I gotta keep clean somehow," he charmed. "And by the way could you pass me that towel over there." He walked up right behind me and I jumped as he pointed at a navy blue towel sitting on a recently cleaned off beach chair.

Grabbing my sleeves and pouting, I walked in strides over to the towel and closed my eyes as I walked back over to him and shoved it into his chest. With a goofy smile he grabbed it and wiped his slightly hairy chest and arms dry. He ruffled the towel in his hair before pausing, then chuckling, and finally wrapping it around his waist. We had our eyes locked throughout the entire process.

"Ok, who are you and what are you doing here?" I demanded.

He finished wrapping the tip of the towel to make it stay up. "Are you always this fun?"

Like I said: I won't let anyone waste my time, but maybe I could let up.

I sighed and tried my best not to stare at his crazy six pack. I wouldn't be surprised if this guy was some Olympian god trying to pass as human. His chest looked as if someone glued two bags of cement to it and his shoulders resembled that of a knight's armor. He had to be an amazing runner because his calves and thighs alone looked like they alone could bench press a ton. Little did I know, he was trying his best not to stare at my chest. "Fine...what brings you to this fine city?"

He played along with my tone of voice. "Well, I am a treasure hunter and here in this fine city, I think I may be onto something good!" He ended with an over eccentric hand swing like some sort of Jolly Roger. "But seriously,--he dropped the act--I'm going to be rich after this find."

Well it looks like he has a huge ego because if you're about to become rich off of something, you never tell it to a completely stranger who tried to kill you twice.

He began to walk over to where a pile of clothes lie. "What are you doing here? You didn't just wash up here did you?" he asked, gesturing at the yacht. "Wouldn't be the worst thing; getting washed away in luxury."

"Unfinished business." was all I would say to him.

"Oh, the worst." he joked as he picked up his clothes and flashed the sand off. "You better turn around; we wouldn't want you feeling naughty now would we?"

With an unexpected smile, I turned around. Couple moments later, he walked around the side of me with his hands in pocket. He was now wearing a tan-colored, leather jacket that had a zipper underneath the buttons that connected into the diamond-shaped hoodie over his head. The design of the buttons and multiple zippers and pockets were ravishing to look at; it must have been one heck of a steal when the world went down.

It was like life-long biker meets steam-punk warrior with gears across the front and antique looking designs and pipes on the shoulders, hood, and down the middle of the back. He even had the steam-punk goggles hanging from his front belt loop in his dark blue jeans that were tucked into loose and untied combat boots. They were even the same color as the jacket. The tongue of one shoe was hanging over because there was no string to hold it in place as the walls of each shoe was also folded over.