It has been many a century since I have been reunited with my parents Selene and Michael Corvin. Being the first born hybrid with all three types of immortal, Vampire and Lycan strains I had to become well adapted to fighting for my freedom. My parents had to train me with a variety of weapons and combat styles in-order-to defend myself from being hunted.
The world has changed as have I from the time I was freed from captivity to now. Traveling from different planetary systems in ships in contrast to traveling from airplanes from country to country. Hiding is easier now since blending in with humans with them modifying or enhancing oneself for their needs.
The vampires have suffered in numbers from the war with humans and lycans but have steadily grown in numbers. Many humans have been suffering between terraforming, slaving, taken to the slam. Society is being governed by an all powerful "Company" where it origins begin with Antigen. Antigen. I hate them for what they did to me and family. To be called "Subject 2" and condemned to death for their research because of my genetic strains.
Mother and father have gone to great lengths to take the "Company" down but the connections they have are more then ours. Can only destroy and blow up so many labs without making a dent. Its to an extend that we have made alliances with some of the lycans that have suffered under the Antigen corporations and "Company."
Which brings me to traveling in ghost lanes on the space transport vessels Hunter-Gratzner. Kind of new to me since the travel takes a few weeks in a cryo-tube. Never done it but I am the only one available to do it. Mom pregnant with twins and dad is being ultra-protective. I hope I meet my mate soon. Smiling I check my boarding pass and head to the docking lanes for my ride.
"Boarding Pass please." A female pilot asks. Blonde female few inches taller than me. Breathing in deeply she smells like sweat, boots, tool belt, leather. She stares at me with her hand expecting the pass.
"Here.' I said confidently staring at her eyes. I sense not to trust her,
"Thank you." Checking in my pass and then handing it back. "Your cryo-tube is up front by the pilot area. Please go in."
I nod my head and walk through all the people. Roughly about 40 people or deep breaths I take in all the scents and focus. All of them human except for one. Smells different not lycan or vampire. I pass a man with three boys talking in Arab then a couple of free settlers. A mousy of a man than looks quite nervous in traveling in cryo-tubes. Smells like fear. Claustrophobic. I sneezed. The smell of fear has never set well with me.
Looking around for my designated cryo I observe a state-of-the-art cryo-tube and heavy duty with the words "LOCK-OUT PROTOCOL IN EFFECT. ABSOLUTELY NO EARLY RELEASE." Stepping closer I see a blind-folded man with a metal horse bit wedged in his mouth. I take a deep breath scenting him. Closing my eyes I process his smell. Hm...his the unique smell I scented earlier. Blood, metal, pure testosterones combined with a wild animalistic musk. I tilted my head to the side. Interesting.
Stepping away I look around once more to see my cryo right across from the dangerous man. I place my duffel back inside and grab my headphones to listen to my music. Though I have never been cryogenically put to sleep, everyone has said most of your brain shuts down except for the primitive side or animal side. Making the conclusion I will be awake from being a hybrid that contains the very animalistic side, I need to keep my mind occupied for those weeks. Who knows maybe its just a theory.
Leaning against my cryo chamber waiting for assistance I sense someone staring. Their gaze penetrating. Bobbing my head up and down to the music I do a quick observation on my surroundings. Everyone is occupied by mingling and socializing. I glazed at the dangerous man heavy duty cryo and his head is angled my way. Interesting.
Oh so suddenly I have a blonde officer looking man stand in front of me blocking my view. "Hello, beautiful. My name is William J. Johns. What is your name darling?"
I blankly stare at him not impressed at all.
"Eve" I replied back.
"Miss Eve I have come to get you settled with cryostasis. Ready?" The navigator named Gregory Owens asked.
"Mister Owens that would be a pleasure. Thank you." I smiled sweetly while giving Johns the cold shoulder. He smelled like a drug-addict an unpleasant smell compared to Owens that smelled like I can feed on him a little if I where to get hungry. Stepping into my cryogenic chamber with my music on shuffle. Owens is gentle in putting on the cryo-cuff to start the cryostat I close my eyes to give the effect that I am sleeping and wait for the rest to do so as well.
The say most of your brain shuts down in crysleep.
All but the primitive side...the animal side.
No wonder I'm still awake.
Transporting me with civilians.
Sounded like 40-plus.
Head an Arab voice. Some hoodoo holy man.
Probably on his way to New Mecca.
But what route? What route?
Smelled a woman.
Sweat, boots, tool belt, leather.
Prospector type.
Free settlers.
And they only take the back roads.
There is also an intoxicating scent as well.
Female. Mint, blood, metal, and dangerous.
Felt her stare and my animal side solely focus on her.
But she not my problem...
...my real problem: Mr. Johns, blue-eyed devil.
Planning on taking me back to slam...only this time he picked a ghost lane.
A long time between stops.
A long time for something to go wrong.
The urge to sing was there. Its been 22 weeks and been awake for 12 seems my body got used to the cryo-drugs. Already gone through one third of my music from 21st century.
"Feet don't fall me now
Take me to the finish line
Oh my heart it breaks, every step that I take
But I'm hoping at the gates,
They'll tell me that you're mine
Walking through the city streets
Is it by mistake or design?
I feel so alone on the Friday nights
Can you make it feel like home
If I tell you you're mine?
Its like I told you honey" I feel my heart ache as I sing 'Born to Die' by Lana del Rey. A song lost through the ages from earth-that-was.
"Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane, so
Choose your last words
This is the last time
'Cause you and I
We were born to die"
I heard a thick and dark voice with a slight smokiness sign. Languorous tone with a quiver to her voice. The expressive voice coming from the intoxicating woman. A woman with an animal side. I find myself relaxing to her.
"Lost but now I am found
I can see that once I was blind
I was so confused as a little child
Trying to take what I could get
Scared that I couldn't find
All the answers, honey" Remembering my childhood in captivity and finding my mother. The psychic link and looking through her eyes. Smiling I continue.
"Don't make me sad, don't make me cry
Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough, I don't why
Keep making me laugh,
Let's go get high
The road is long, we carry on
Try to have fun in the meantime"
My animal side is being effected by her singing. The new sensations throughout my body along with her scent. Haven't seen her but her voice and scent are amazing. Never had my animal react to a female like this. Its has to stop. I start to growl and scowl at how my body is reacting along with the animal.
"Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane, so
Choose your last words
This is the last time
'Cause you and I
We were born to die
We were born to die
We were born to die"
I started to hear growling from across from me. Taking a deep breath his scent is more muskier becoming delicious. I felt myself shift to my hybrid self...the animal side. Closing my eyes knowing well that my green eyes turned to blue with black sciera. My body never done this for any human, or vampire before. Such desire for a male.
"Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like girls insane, so
Don't make sad, don't make me cry
Sometimes love is not enough and the road get tough, I don't know why
Keep making me laugh
Let's go get high
The road is long, we carry on
Try to have fun in the meantime"
Her scent changed to a more feral and animalistic. Pure of bloodlust and fresh forest scent with touch of a mint. I smelled lust and desire as well. My body is tense and immediately straining and ready to get to her. Biting into metal bit harder.
"Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane, so
Choose your last words
This is the last time
'Cause you and I
We were born to die
We were born to die
(We were born to die)"
I finished the song with immense yearning for the mysterious dangerous lock up man. The sensations going through my body are so new it frightens me but my lycan part is thriving in the natural instincts. So natural like breathing. Opening my eyes I look straight at the dangerous man. He looks strained and determined to get out even blindfolded. His focus solely on me and instinct is full force.
The very moment I was about to grab the release handle the ship was being impacted by what sounded like comet debris and the smell of blood. Alarms going off and a cryo-chamber blows open spitting out the female pilot. Carolyn Fry. Sounds like she stumbling towards another cryo-chamber. A gasp can be heard as she stumbles to the next chamber and a person struggling to wake up.
"Hear me? Cap'n? Some kinda compromise to the hull...holding for now, but...Goddamn, I'm glad you're alive. Gotta pull your E-release...no, red handle, red handle. I'll get the warm-ups out while-"
More debris impacting the cabin and shattering of plexi and an explosion on the oppoiste side leaving hissing sounds in the air.
She sounds like she falling on the floor and another chamber blows open. I feel Owens scent hit the air on top of Fry. He sounds disoriented and his breathing is rapid as though in a frantic.
"Why did I fall on you?" He asked.
"He's dead. Cap'n's , I was looking right at him when-" Fry is in a shock explaining it to Owens.
"I mean, I mean, chrono shows 22 weeks out, so gravity wasn't supposed to kick in for another 19. I mean, I mean, I mean, why did I fall at all?"
"You hear me? Captain's dead. Owens too." Mentally face-planting since she just announced him dead.
"Oh, no. Not Owens, not...Wai', wai', wait. I'm Owens. Right?" This would mildly entertained if this was not a life and dead scenario happening.
"Cryo-sleep. Swear to God, it sloughs brain cells." I mentally agree with Fry considering their predicament. They start to stumble into the nav-bay. With the alarms still blaring. Their putting what I can imagine warm-up suits.
"1550 millibars, dropping to 20 MB per minute, shit, we're hemorraging air. Somthin' took a swipe at us."
"Just tell me we're still in the shipping lane. Just show me all those stars, all those bright, beautiful, deep-space..." Owens sounds like he grasping for hope.
"Jesus God..." That is not a good reply Fry, I think.
I hear someone harnessing in and start turning nobs and switches with occasionally fumbling, Something is opening.
"...crisis program selected Number Two of this system because it shows at least some oxygen and m ore than 1,500 - would you SHUT THE FUCK UP" The blaring alarms comes to a silence as Owens continues. "- more than, 1,500-milibars of pressure at surface-leel. Okay, so maybe the ship did something right for a change..."
Sounds like we are in a mighty fine predicament. The ship has guided us to at least a decent planet to land on.
A door closing is heard with multiple shots all around the ship's as it feels like we are hitting atmosphere. The ship is unbalanced and taking damage in a variety ways causing the ship to spiral.
In the cabin the left over crew is struggling to get a handle on the ship situation. The ship stop doing the death spiral the still feels unbalanced.
"...showing no major water bodies...maximum terrain, 220 meters over mean surface...largely cinder and gypsum with some evaporite deposits..." Owens is relaying what sounds like the planets terrain. Which if I was human I would a little worried but I've been to the Sierra Desert in Earth-that-was and survived when left stranded. I hear the cabin door closing shut.
"Fry? What're you doing?" Like a whisper conversation I can still hear Owens door through the door. "Fry?"
"Can't get my nose down...too much load back there..." Fry responds back.
"Then you suck as a pilot." I muttered. Bracing my body for what going to be a rough crash landing. I heard I faint snort coming from the chamber in front of me.
"You mean that 'load' of passengers?" Asked a disturbed Owens.
"So what, we should both go down too? Out of sheer fucking nobility?" Fry responded back frustrated. I started to growl with my body tense as a silence comes to the ship. I survived so much in my youth and been part of a war born into not going out like this.
"Look, Fry. Company says we're responsible for every one of those-" Owens starts on Fry.
"Company's not here, is it?" Fry cuts him off.
"When captain went down, you stepped up - whether you like it or not. Now they train you for this, so-"
"And there wasn't a simulated cockroach alive within 50 clicks of the simulated crash site! That's how they train you! On a fucking simulator!" Their arguing amazing.
I let out a roar in anger and frustration. I pull the release handle with such force, grabbing my duffel bag. I land swiftly on my feet and head towards the pilot cabin.
"Don't touch that switch!" I heard Owens scream.
"I'm not dying for them."
The cabin door opens in front of me and Owens is there. I grab whatever he has in his hand as he stares at me. I blocked the doors open while stepping inside the cabin.
"Owens!"
"70 seconds! You still got 70 seconds to level this beast out!" He snaps back from the shock of seeing me.
I watch as angel and guilt comes off Fry in ways. She begins to pop more airbrakes, shedding more speed, more heat. The ship levels eventually but it taking a beating. Her view isn't stable and she's struggling.
The sounds of braking and shattering can be heard.
"What the shit was that?"
Putting on my sunglasses as the sunlight flares the visibility being slim. I can see a ground-map display: 120-meters altitude and dropping. People are starting to wake up in the cryo-chambers.
Ground-mapper indicates 60 meters and alarms goes off. Fry brances herself and I follow up as well.
40 meters...30...20...20...
Impact was rough as I predicted. Windscreen implode being strong winds that rip the chairs that are bolted. The one Owens was strapped into slams into the ceiling.
The ship hull cracks open. Taking most of the cryo-chambers with people. With all my strength I grab the wall to brace myself. The ship is burrowing under and few seconds later there is a dirt avalance into the cockpit. Blacking out.
I wake up to survivors choking on yellow dust. Their coughing, moaning and calling out for other survivors in english and arabic. Someone has a cutting torch and are using to open a jammed cryo-chamber.
"Somethin' went wrong, huh?" A child voice asks. By the scent a young female.
I can hear Johns looking for his prisoner. Seems like he escaped. Getting up and checking my body from any harm. I take time sniffing the air around me to assess the situation and the survivors. Approximately, 8 males in which 3 are boys and 3 females with 1 being a child.
A scuffle starts between the 'cop' and his prisoner. But the predator chose the wrong place to pounce on his prey backfiring and giving his prey the upper hand.
"One chance and you blew it, Riddick. Never cease to disappoint me."
Riddick. My parents have been looking for him a while. The Antigen or the "Company" has wronged him to almost the same extend as our family. They were hoping in making him an alliance if he willing to go against them. A man punished for doing good by others is highly uncivilized in such a human superiority and high society.
I move around the cockpit and notice Fry passed out.
"Hey." Fry calls out.
"Hey, who?" Johns asks.
"Hey, me. Over here." I make my way to her to help. Sensing him behind with his light. He crawls right next to me and checks the headrest and finds her. I start to dig her out not giving him any attention
"Amazing. I'm Johns."
"Carolyn Fry. I'd shake hands, but..."
I roll my eyes at their introduction. "Eve" is all I say continuing digging her out. Soon after Johns begins to help me out.
"Are there any others, Johns?" She asks. Completely ignoring me.
Johns was guiding us through the carnage. Sensing a stunned Fry as she take everything in and is blinded by the sunlight shining in the missing hull. We where in the nav-bay. Owens. His scent was intermingled with blood. Injury through his upper body. I start to dig.
"Owens!" I screamed.
That snaps Fry from her state of mind. She starts to help me. We uncover him still strapped to his chair with a metal rod piercing him through the chest near his heart. Barely alive. Fry reaches out to tough him.
"Out, out, out, GET IT OUTTA ME!" He screams out. I get right beside him and grabbing his face. I glance over my shoulder and see that Fry has recoiled hard in disbelief that he is still alive. The rest of the survivors join us and within ten seconds chaos happened.
"Pull it out of him..."
"No, It's too close to the heart..."
"You gotta do it, just do it fast..."
Fry grabs the rod.
"Don't touch it! Don't touch that switch!" Owens scream with his eyes glazed over in a trance.
"You'll kill him, I'm tellin' you, shit, just leave it alone...delirious...doncha you got some drugs for this poor man..."
"Don't touch that switch!" Owens continues. Firmly grabbing his face.
"Owens focus on my voice. Look at my eyes please." I say softly and seeing his body relax a bit.
"Awright, awright, someone...there's Anestaphine in the med-lock, that end of the cabin...next to..." Fry couldn't finish her sentence. Owens screams out of pain.
"Owens I need you to look into my eyes and listen to my voice." I say more firm. Running on instinct and rather not see a man that saved our lives suffer trying to hypnotize him.
"Get away. Everybody." Fry demands everyone out.
"Carolyn Fry, I can give him the mercy he deserves for rescuing our lives." I finally says as Johns takes a fascinated boy away.
"What?! No!" She starts to argue against me.
"You will allow me to do this willingly or I'll do it myself then let everyone else know that your inexperience and own hide is worth more than everyone else's." I stand up and face her. Owens screams again.
"Owens, I will give you mercy for saving our lives." I spoke to him with such pride and honor. He looks to at me alert and focus.
"Eve. Eve you helped me block the doors once they were opened. How? How-" I stopped him by placing my finger on his mouth.
"Owens the metal bar is too close to your heart. Pulling it out will cause a slow painful death. I can break your neck so you don't have to suffer. Its your choice." Looking through his pain set eyes. He thinks for a few minutes and then nods his head.
"No! Owens don't-" Fry try to argue.
"She right! Eve has to do it. She helpes me save the rest. Ugh!" He screams. "Eve do it!"
I nod my head and place myself in position. "I, Eve, give you, Owens, mercy. Thank you for saving our lives. You are an honorable man." I have both my hands on his head and snapped he head sharply to the side and breaking his neck.
I walk out leaving a distraught Fry with Owens remains. Passing by a cuffed Riddick to a bulkhead. His head following me hidden by his goggles, as if tracking my movement through the daylight. I look towards him and give him a coy smile.
Heading towards the other survivors and taking notes. They start to introduce themselves to me. A couple of bushwhackers, Zeke and Shazza around their 30s. Paris, a pansy that was overfed and spoiled right about in his 50s.
Four males part of some religion I think a twisted combination of Christian and Islam Muslim. Older man nickname Imam in his 50s and three boys roughly in their teens. The scenery gives Australia and Alaska a run for their money in harsh and unforgiven terrain. Add two suns and the rising scent of blood, death and decay. Oh what fun it is.
"Well. Our own little slice of heaven." Paris starts.
"Please...which way to New Mecca? We must know the direction in order to pray." Asks Imam.
Not a clue. No one else answer him too. Johns snaps open his compass, finds the needle swaying rudderlessly.
I ignore everyone and focus on the situation at hand. I can go without feeding for about two weeks in normal circumstances but the two suns will shorten that time by half. I have food supply from the adults if I needed to feed if I run out of my supplies in my duffel bag. Need to find water for the pups though. Closing my eyes I try to sense or smell where the ship would have any type of water contained. Found it.
As I get up from the top of the crash ship, I notice Fry climbing up and Johns, Paris, Zeke, Shazza, and a boy there.
"Big talk about a scouting party..." Johns starts.
Fry looks over the crash sight and the total damage onto the planet. No way any of those passenger survived that fall or crash.
"...then we saw this." He ended his sentence.
"Anyone else have breathing problems?" Paris inquires.
"Like I just ran, or something..." The feminine smelling male responds.
"Feel one lung short. All of us." Shazza states matter of fact tone.
"Well, I tend toward the asthmatic. And with all this dust..." Paris starts to complain.
All focus goes to Fry. Looking for answer to this mess.
"It's the atmosphere. Too much pressure, not enough oxygen. Might take a few day to -" She starts to explain.
"So what the bloody hell happened, anyways?" Zeke rudely interrupted. Men.
"Somethin' knocked us off-lane. Maybe a rogue comet. May we'll never know." She answered him.
"Well, I for one, am thoroughly fucking grateful. This beast wasn't made to land like this. But cripes, you rode it down." Shazza went from facing Fry then looking at us. "C'mon, you lousy ingrates, only reason we're alive is a'cuzza her."
Rolling my eyes at the fucking irony I start to leave. Listening to everyone chime in agreement and seeing how uncomfortable she was from my shoulder as I glanced back.
Heading into the main cabin to catalogue everything that useful I start to hear the rest coming in.
"Liquid oxygen canisters inside. Start ripping them out. Quick hits only - try to make it last." Fry start to command.
"Well, is someone coming for us? Or are we all just gonna die of exposure or dehydration or sunstroke or may even something worse?" I ignore the child questions. "Hey, you don't have to worry about scaring me."
"We're worried you'll scare us. Name's "Jack" right, love? And you're goin' to Taurus Three like we were?" Shazza takes over answering the questions.
"Yeah, but...do we even have enough food to get there? Or will we have to resort to cannibalism?"
"I'll see 'bout makin' this air go a bit further, cap'n. With your permission a' course." Zeke spoke to Fry. She stunned I can feel it from here. Following Fry she stops and looks at Riddick.
"And him?" She asks.
"Big Evil?" Johns inquires.
"We just keep him locked up forever?"
"Be my choice. Already escaped once from the max-slam facility on -" He cuts off.
"I don't need his life story. Is he really that dangerous?" Fry just cut through the chase.
"Only around humans."
Tilting my head to the side I take Riddick's appearance. His mouth on the hull, seeming to lick the metal.
"Oh, Christ..."
"...on a crutch." I finish the sentence in a whisper. Earning a slight movement from the Riddick.
Sniffing I smell water in the air seeping from whatever reservoir we had. I grab a large jug and follow Fry to the superstructure to reach the water cistern. She opens a crank-hatch and looking in light is seen. Her face grimaces.
"Well? Is it just the pump?" Zeke shouts the question.
"Ask if anyone has anything in cargo! Anything to drink!" She yells back.
Climbing down. I searched through the ship and found a small water reservoir. Pulling a small gadget and open the panel where a hidden water compartment. Only enough water for the kids and a sip each for the adults. I shift my hand into my claws and poke a hole and start to feel the jug.
Start on the cutting torch, abandoned in wreckage. Staring at it...
With his hands cuffed behind him and around a bulkhead, he can't get near it. Or can he? Near the ceiling, the bulkhead is fractured - a slim spot where maybe chains could pass through.
Riddick stands. Thinking of popping out his shoulders and passing through the broken stop. Until a intoxicating scent fills the room.
"I brought you water." A contrast to her singing a low but monotone voice is heard. No fear whatsoever. Quiet little thing. Not many have been able sneak up on me without getting shivved. "Here let me help you out."
I feel her agains my body as she reaches behind me. A small snap is felt and heard and my cuffs are off my wrists. Immediately my arms circle her waist securing her. "Not smart." Staring at her face expecting fear but a blank face staring back is what I get.
Fair alabaster skin with luscious red lips and large sensuous eyes. In some way a doll like appearance. A petite yet curvaceous figure standing at 5 feet 3 inches wearing tight cargo pants with dark colored brocade military style corset with leather belts attached purses and a duffel bag secure across her shoulders. A real bad ass chick.
"Is that so?" She says with a raise of her eyebrow. No scent of fear but mild amusement. Haven't seen such calmness or self-control from another in a long time. Her body was not even reacting to my touch the complete opposite with our moment in the cryos. "From where I was standing it looked as though you needed help. Any human thinking of popping their shoulders out of their sockets know the pain it would cause. That is not smart."
To be held by Riddick differed from other males I hugged. Account by the fact that I was never interest in others much and that was quite an accomplishment by itself. Thanking my wonderful parents for training and honing my body and mind. I kept everything in control giving him nothing but mere amusement. He actually thinks he can intimidate me with such an act when I have seen and been through worse. Met worse. His cute though. Very cute.
"Enough. Take a sip of water and escape." I slipped out of his grasp with such ease. Instantly, missing his warmth. Handing him the bottle filled with water. "Leave some for the pups though."
Taking the bottle he takes a gulp of water as I roll my eyes. Riddick hands me the bottle.
"Name." He demands.
"Eve." I respond.
Watching him go I head out discreetly without a sound. Waiting for a pissed of wannabe cop. Didn't have to wait long. Johns with his pistol in hand runs out with eyes sweeping the area. Seems he found out about the escape. To me it seems he doesn't see anything until something caught his eye. Riddick left a present so it seems. Mouth-bit.
"Like we needed another way to die." Johns exclaims.
Couple minutes later the rest of the survivors are pillaging the storage lockers, pulling out anything that would be considered as a weapon. Idiots. The all bring it back to our designated meeting area the nav-bay. Taking inventory of the 'qualified' weapons: John's pistol, shotgun, and baton. Imam a ceremonial blade. Paris in with ancient weapons. Haven't seen in a great while.
"What the hell are these?" John asks.
"Maratha-" Paris starts.
"Maratha crow-hill war-picks from Northern India. Very rare. In the correct and well-trained hands can do major damage or have an instant kill." I interjected. Inspecting the old weapon.
"An' this?
"Blow-dart hunting stick from Papua New Guinea. Very very rare, since the tribe's extinct." Paris answered.
" 'Cuz they couldn't hunt shit with these things, be my guess."
"Actually, they died because of western geocentric frame of minds that thought best to confirm others to their standards of normal. The blow-darts were tipped in poison and required great skill to hunt and not spoil their prize."
"Well, what's the need, anyway? If he's gone, he's gone. Why should he bother us?" Paris asked seeming to ignore my comments.
"First, because he can only live out there for so long - he's gonna come back and take what we got. Second, for the shear thrill for the kill." A small pause after Johns finished talking every one grabbed a weapon except for me.
"Interesting." I rolled my eyes.
I head out of the crashed ship and notice the temperature has gotten worse. Climbing atop the ship and looking towards the horizon I seen another sun. Blue. Few minutes later I smell Johns stand next to me and looks towards the horizon through a scope.
"What the hell is it?" He asked.
"Blue sun."
From my spot I hear Shazza and Zeke working on the breathers for everyone. The fascinated boy for earlier was being used as a guinea-pig. Breathing in and inhaling oxygen with success. The religious group have customized their clothing ready for travel.
After helping Fry prepare Owen's body for burial. She notices the yellow sun low on the horizon and the red following behind.
"Imam. We should leave soon. Before nightfall but while it's cooler." Fry commands.
"What, you're goin' off, too?" A shock Zeke asks.
"Johns is leaving you a gun. Just do me a favor, huh? Get my crewies buried? They were good guys who died bad."
"A'course we will." Shazza replies.
"Imam...Imam..." One of the religious pup's calls.
Pup shows everyone else the blue suns apperance in the sky.
"My bloody oath..." Shazza.
"Three suns?" Boy named Jack.
"So much for nightfall." Zeke says to Fry.
"So much for my cocktail hour." Paris.
"We take this to be a good sign - a path, a direction from God." Imam.
John finally makes his appearance. "Very good sign. That's Riddick's direction. You do NOT wanna be caught in the dark with this guy."
"Thought you found his restraints over there. Toward sunset." Fry.
"Which means he went toward sunrise." He response while nodding his head.