The Year is 2020

One man, wearing biker gear and tearing up the streets leaving a trail of smoke, sped along the deserted highway.

He was a lone wolf, choosing not to be in a clan but to ride on his own. He bore no colours, just a simple leather jacket with embroidered flames crawling up its back. A red bandana covered his face, deep dark brown eyes piercing the road before him in a concentrated manner. For now he would ride until nightfall; by then he would have set up camp in a location where he felt secure enough to sleep.

Amongst the roars of his bike only birds settling for bed could be heard singing joyfully in the trees. The sky was golden, with a few clouds coloured yellow by the setting sun.

A bend in the road before him caused him to lean his bike to the right and avert his gaze. Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He noticed a small group of people with one person standing between them. This person was being pushed around; not uncommon in these areas.

The man on the bike did not think twice as he prepared to continue roaring on by.

Something wasn't right though, for as he passed he saw that the person in the middle had extraordinarily long hair for a male. This caused him to think that the person was a female. To his own discomfort, he found himself feeling guilty that he merely sped by. Abruptly the breaks on his bike squealed as he pulled on the break lever. His bike came to a stop quickly, but did not hold still as he twisted the handle on his handlebars. Now the bike twisted in spot, a full 180 degrees and then shot forward, the engine once again roaring loudly.

The group of people he had seen came within distance quickly, his bike reaching a speed of over one hundred and twenty miles per hour. It would be only seconds before he would reach the group harassing the lady. Skidding to a halt, he turned his bike off and waited for them to notice him.

Most of the people in the group turned to watch the man on the bike approach, smirks and snarls plastered about their facial features. Only two remained to keep hold of their would-be prisoner. The rest of them walked forward a few feet and stood in a line, daring the man to step forward.

No one was prepared when the man on the bike quickly pulled out a handgun from his vest, aiming it directly at a man on the far left of the gang. He let several rounds fly freely from the handgun. One bullet lodged itself into the man's kneecap. He fell over with a groan, one of his mates falling too a moment later. The rest were carrying no firearms, and rushed forward brandishing an assortment of weapons. Four men rushed forward; two with bats, one with a chain and the other with a broken bottle.

The biker suddenly reached up and over his shoulder, pulling a long but thin metallic object forth from leather strapping. He brandished this new weapon with ease, manipulating the pole between several fingers, sending it twirling about with expertise.

Reaching forward with his free hand, his palm faced the sky and his fingers bent inwards. He spoke for the first time, his voice deep and loud.

"Bring it." was all he said. That was all it took to drive them towards him but wilder yet.

The thug with the chain raised his hand over his head and brought it down, cracking the chain like a whip. His attack was thwarted by the metallic object coming down upon the chain as the biker stepped to the side. The chain wrapped itself about the pole the biker brandished. He pulled upwards and stepped back quickly, wrenching the chain free from the man's grip. Now defenceless, the would-be assailant ran off without a weapon, fear taking over him.

Because of one simple motion, the group that had been harassing the lady ran off. The two who had held her were dragging away the men who'd been shot in the knees. Only the woman and the lone biker remained. He made a move to step forward, and the woman quickly stepped back and away from him. The red bandana hid his face well; she was unable to tell if he merely wanted her to himself.

Seeing the woman's fear him, he turned away from her, placing his weapon back in the strapping that hung across his chest and back. He wasn't interested in her name or where she was came from. She was wearing torn clothing; obviously an outcast or lone traveler.

The bike roared to life and he was about to speed away when he heard the woman shout. Instinctively he turned around, hand rising to his back, his fingers curling around the metal pole. Instead of another would-be attacker, the woman stopped in her tracks, having run to get his attention.

"Take me w-with you..." she mumbled, her voice barely audible over the bikes roar. Her hair was messy, but underneath the matted mess was what looked to be a cute face. She was a girl of maybe twenty years old.

"I travel alone," he said, turning away from her again.

"Wait!" she cried out, this time running all of the way to him in order to grab his arm. He turned to face her and she let go immediately, shying away and looking at the ground.

"I need to get out of this area. It's not safe for a woman like me," she said quietly. There was a brief moment of silence before either of them spoke again.

"I will take you to the next city, about five hours away from here." His voice came out deep, but not as intimidating as when he'd spoken to the men who had surrounded her moments ago.

"Thank you!" she said gratefully, stepping towards the bike. She swung her leg over the seat and sat directly behind him, her arms at her sides waiting for instruction.

"Put your arms around me. We will be going fast, to make ground for the time we've lost." he said, abruptly speeding up to a quick pace of a hundred miles per hour once he felt her arms about his waist. At first she was timid, but when the bike pulled forward she held tightly, pressing her entire smaller body against his back.

*****

Several hours later the sun had fallen behind the mountains surrounding the road. They took a turn off the highway and ventured deep within the trees. When they came across a small clearing with what seemed like enough space to provide a fire and tent, they chose to stay for the night. A single light from his bike shone brightly upon their makeshift camping grounds.

The nameless biker placed his bike amongst the trees, completely hidden except for its light that lit up their entire camp area. Once he had made a fire large enough to keep them warm and provide light, he turned off the bike to let it rest for the night.

For now, they sat upon makeshift chairs, simply two logs placed before the fire being. They were both silent, the young woman watching curiously as the biker sat staring into the flames that roared with intensity. Abruptly the woman spoke, breaking the biker's concentration.

"What is your name?" she asked quietly. He turned to face her but only for a brief second. He turned back to the fire and resumed ignoring her. This didn't make her feel bad, she was getting used to the silent treatment. She must have asked him seven times what his name was, only to be ignored each time.

"Why won't you show me your face?" she asked, his red bandana still revealing only his eyes. His jet-black hair hung just before his eyes, masking the rest of his facial features.

What he did next surprised her, even startled her. He turned in his spot, staring directly at her with those deep brown piercing eyes. She saw intensity in those eyes, but along with intensity, pain and anguish likely brought on by loss. She fought over what those eyes were, sexy or sad to look at. She was siding with both.

The biker slowly raised a hand and tenderly pulled upon the red bandana that hid his facial features from the world. He tugged slowly until finally it fell and hung loosely about his neck. What the woman saw shocked her immensely. She saw nothing but raw and unnatural beauty. Even though his face was worn and stubble covered, she saw an image that reminded her of concrete carved by the gods themselves. It was obvious that he was a young man, merely around the age of twenty-five. It saddened her heart to see the scares that littered his facial features. It appeared that someone had taken a knife and cut him severely.

"Now will you leave me alone?" he asked. He was not frustrated by the fact that she pulled back in immediate fear; it was the look of sadness in her facial features afterwards that bothered him. He wished pity from no one, which was why he left it covered.

"Oh, you ask far too much of me. Of course I won't leave you alone; I've only just started to get you talking!" she said stubbornly, being careful not to anger him.

"I didn't exactly bring you along for entertainment purposes.' he said, shunning her once more as he lifted the bandana to cover his face.

Even though she had tried not to anger him, she found instead it was she who was angry with him. There was something about him that made her feel like his attitude was merely a disguise. She would persist, but not now. Instead she stood from her log and turned away from the fire. She was about to walk into the woods, away from the light, when he called out.

"Where are you going?" he asked, careful not to show that he might have worried for her.

"Oh now you're going to talk to me?" she said, brandishing her index finger at him like a would-be sword.

"Well I was." he said, his voice filled with annoyance.

There was a brief silence between the two. She finally gave up on him and walked away. She didn't understand his attitude, not that she could in the course of a couple hours. She was just astonished that any man could be so stubborn.

As the girl he had rescued walked away he couldn't help but find himself wondering what she could be up to. For a moment he even felt the need to accompany her, but that thought was quickly lost as he reached into his bag and pulled forth a wooden block. He also pulled out a knife, roughly five inches long. He brought his finger against the edge of the blade, testing its sharpness. He found it to his liking, and immediately began to chip into the wood.

The girl had not ventured far, but peered through branches around the camp fire in order to spy quietly. She watched him pull out the block of wood and knife, and was intrigued greatly as he began to carve into the block quickly. She watched as an image began to emerge from the block of wood, but had her attention stolen quickly.

The sound of under brush snapping beneath a light foot step caught her by surprise. The sound was unmistakeable; she heard this creature many times before. She had grown accustomed to the sounds of nature, and she knew this sound could only be created by the likes of a smaller creature.

A smirk twisted about her facial features as the hunt for rabbit was suddenly on. She pulled forth a small blade from her boot, and moved sideways of the sound. There was another snap in front of her now, so she threw her blade into the darkness several feet ahead of the sound. The sounds that came next brought a smile to her lips. The pain filled shrieks of the rabbit tore through the night's silence, death not befalling the creature as quickly as one might have hoped.

She walked over to the creature and frowned in sadness. The creature was still alive and squirming in spot. She bent over and stroked the rabbit in an almost comforting manner, and then abruptly grabbed it by its skull and twisted. No more suffering, she thought as she lifted the soft, dead body into one arm.

Wood chips flew in every direction as an expert hand carved out an animal. The muzzle had formed, the rest of the wolf's body soon taking shape. He looked over his creation; a wolf with its head tilted back howling at the moon. He placed the carving back into his bag along with his carving blade. At that precise moment, the girl returned.

"What in God's name..." he said shocked to see blood staining her arm and the white fur of a rabbit which she cradled.

"Dinner," she said, taking a spot on her make-shift seat.

*****

The sun lit the sky and tinted it beautifully with orange, some of its wonderful rays shining through skewed branches and onto the tent. The opening to the tent was flung open as the man with a red bandana stepped out. He wore only his jeans and bandana, the rest open to the wilderness and one other person.

He stretched awkwardly, one arm high in the air with the other at his side, and a smile began to play at his lips. He could have sworn he'd seen a stream just a few yards away from their camping area, so today would be the day he bathed.

He had no towel but he removed his remaining clothing and looked down at the stream. He was tempted to test the water with a foot, but instead decided to run into it quickly. He thought the faster he was in, the faster he would be used to the frigid coldness carried by the mountain streamed water.

The girl was waking up to the fresh air flowing freely through the tent. She had memories of the past night, a warm body beside her fresh in her mind. She had to stand immediately and leave the tent or there would have been consequences of the sexual kind. After looking around their camping area, she realized that no one was there.

"Hello?" she called out. No answer was returned. Curiosity got the better of her so she began to wander forth in search of the man. As she walked she heard what sounded distinctively like flowing water. She was thirsty, and she thought the man might have been as well. Now she walked quickly through the brush, pushing tree branches and smaller vegetation from her face. As she came closer to the stream, she pushed through some more brush and stopped fully in her tracks.

What she saw now brought feelings of the earlier stated kind, and she was only able to stare in shock and wonder. The man was bathing in the stream she had just wished to drink from. And there he was too, completely naked and care free. He didn't have that red bandana on for a change, and she could actually see a pleasurable smile about his facial features. Her mind began to wonder at the possibilities. She was thinking of joining him in the water, of him taking her into his strong arms and then...

"Hey, what are you doing?" His voice broke her concentration and she jumped in surprise. She immediately looked away and tried to block his naked body with both her hands.

"I'm sorry, I was worried... looking for you... stream... I'm sorry!" she said quickly, unable to look at him.

"Well you found me. I'm fine." he said with annoyance in his voice. He then turned from her, grabbed his pants and without putting them on walked away from her and the stream. She remained frozen in her tracks and lost in her thoughts.

It was several long moments after the incident and after her bath that she returned to the camping area. He was already there, dressed fully with that damn typical red bandana covering his face.

"I'm so..." she had begun to say, but was rudely interrupted.

"You're sorry? Yeah I know. Don't even worry about it." Which was man-language for: Do worry but not so much now that you've apologized.

Now all of that worried tone in her was been lost, instead replaced with anger.

"Jesus Christ!" she swore, raising her hand to practically jab at him with her pointer finger. "You never give up, do you?" He stopped and raised a brow, both hands rising slightly to provide him something between himself and her. She stepped forward and wanted to grab him by the collar, shaking every ounce of asshole from him.

He looked down at her, her smaller body trembling with rage. He found himself staring directly into deep brown eyes, lit a fire with anger. She turned and walked away from him. He was about to reach out to her but changed his mind, letting his hand fall slowly back to his side.

"Damn women..." he swore under his breath, the tent flap seemingly unable to be slammed but still closed with raw force.

It had been about an hour since she'd retreated to the tent, and the sun hung high in the sky. This marked the time to be about mid afternoon - lunch time, in other words. The biker grabbed a pan from the back of his bike, placing it on two steel rods placed above the fire. He then proceeded to make macaroni and cheese, boiling the water before hand.

The girl had been sitting in the tent still, fuming about the man's attitude towards her. She didn't understand his anger, and eventually came to believe he was just grumpy that she was along for the ride. So when the man came to the tent and called out to her, she proceeded to ignore him.

"Woman," he said, but no reply came. "Woman, what're you doing? It's lunch time," he attempted one last time before walking back to the fire, a bowl of macaroni waiting for him on his make shift chair. He had some time to think of the earlier events and realized he had been harsh to her. He thought he would try to make it up to her, whenever she decided to come from the tent.

Now as he munched on his lunch, he found himself distracted by the sounds of a tent flap opening. He looked up in time to see the girls form bent at the hips so she could fit through the smaller opening of the tent. This intrigued him and caused him to smirk, which he almost immediately regretted.

"What're you smirking at?" she practically spat, looking at her own chair only to realize there was a bowl already waiting for her. She felt bad for taking the piss out of him, but remained quite angered as she sat down to eat.

"Listen... I want to apologize for earlier..." He said quietly, staring directly into those familiar deep brown eyes.

He was apologizing? He looked so sincere as well, so it wasn't just a ploy. What's up with this guy? First he acts like I've burdened his entire life, ignoring me and refusing to talk with me. And now here he is, making me lunch and apologizing. This was one awkward moment for her, so she merely remained quiet and refused to meet his gaze.

"I never did get your name." he said, causing her to raise her head and stare at him in shock.

"It's Jen..." she said, raising a brow at him. "Now you must tell me yours," she said, a spoon filled with macaroni pushing past her lips.

"Jen eh-? My name is John," he said, still staring into her eyes. She was now the only person who knew his name. There were others that had known his name, but they were long since dead. This would make it easier than yelling out- "WOMAN" when ever he needed her for something.

"Wait a second," she said, suddenly pointing the spoon at John's bandana. "Now that I know your name, you don't need to hide yourself. So why not take that off?" she asked, knowing his answer before he said it.

"You're right." he said, having thought about for a moment first. This had her shocked, and she merely stared as he removed the bandana. Once again his scarred face came into her view, this time to remain open to her for the while. He folded the bandana and placed half of it inside his front pocket, the other half hanging freely before his thigh.

He found himself unable to look at her anymore, playing with the last remaining macaroni in his bowl. Without the red bandana to cover him, he felt hideous. He didn't understand her want of seeing his face.

Jen felt the exact opposite, unable to look away. The marks upon his face caused her feelings she never dreamed of having for this man. She felt sadness, all the while still seeing the man behind the scars. To her he was a prick, and even sometimes down right rude, but still she found he had a soft part of hi. She could see it deep in his eyes. She was reminded of an egg with its hard shell but soft on the inside.

After lunch Jen took their bowls and the pot used to make the macaroni down to the stream, where she washed them as thoroughly as possible. When she returned, there were clouds filling the sky with darkness. Winds had picked up and it seemed like it was about to storm. She saw John sitting upon his stool, staring out into the sky.