Wonderfully, however, I stumbled across something else.
“Oh! Sunscreen!” I claimed my prize that sat idly in the middle of the road.
The tube was practically brand new and still in date. My heart swelled with victory, and I shoved my greatest treasure into my satchel.
“Oh!” I stalked forward and leaned down, scooping up more fortune.
A Vitamin C facemask. Perfect. After the night without sleep I was certain my skin would be puffy—oh freckles, lip balm!
Further along I collected my next good find, strawberry lip balm.
Just across the road there laid another item I was in desperate need for: vanilla and honey moisturiser. I popped that in my bag next.
“Where are these things coming from?” I looked around with a smile, washing away all my tiredness. “This is just brilliant. Oh!”
I strode over and collected a loofa and—
“Ah!” A net suddenly moved under my feet and caged me up inside of it. I hung in the air, losing a gasp, cocooned in the trap. “What just happened?”
16
It took him an hour to arrive.
My blade had dropped through the net when it pulled up and as I swung midair, I had searched for a way to get out of it and found none. While waiting for my captor I found an awkward yet comfortable position and applied my vitamin C face mask and waited for the owner of the net to finally arrive and claim their prey.
Dig leaned up against the building with his arms crossed, laughing.
Of course.
“Do you also have moisturiser?” I asked him. “Specifically, the Ferben No.6 moisturiser from last year’s spring line?”
“No.”
“I’m disappointed.”
“I will kill all the mother fuckers in this battle, tear down the concrete walls with my bare hands and find every bottle of Ferben No.6 moisturiser from last year’s spring line and fill up the ocean with it for you to bathe in.”
“Alright.”
“And I’ll watch you bathe—”
“Can you cut me down?”
“I’m cutting you down now.”
“Actually, just wait. I still have at least five minutes.” I patted my facemask ensuring the serum was soaking into my skin. “Give me five—ah!”
He cut the rope and I fell into his arms.
This time he bound my wrists, my ankles and put a gag around my mouth before he swung me over his shoulder and stalked through the streets.
“Ma—it—bo—fa? Ow!” My nose squashed into his lower back as he leapt over an oil drum.
The street diseased with broken furniture and rusted metal strewn from stores. Spider silk gleamed in the midday sun and Dig splashed through a puddle of blood. I rocked over his shoulder. The world swirled. I considered closing my eyes and napping.
Day four.
Almost halfway.
