The ground hit him hard as he landed and rolled, somersault style, lessening the impact of the fall. He heard the ship glide away, falling in line with all the others, blending in with the scores of other tourist travel ships. He quickly gathered himself and ducked into a darkened alley, but not before making sure that absolutely nothing could see him; no security cameras or prying local eyes. He fished through the bag he had fallen with and drew out a long, dark cloak, which he draped over his shoulders. It hid the shape of his body from the world, showing only a pair of dark boots. He pulled up the hood, making sure it covered his eyes in shadow, and sneaked out of the alley.
Gage checked her gun, making sure it was fully loaded, with one bullet in the chamber. She put it back down on the kitchen table and sipped from her coffee. It wasn't a particularly exciting day – she had nothing to do but wait around the apartment until instructions came, if they did.
Some days she'd have several kills, other days none at all.
Her eyes took a quick swoop of her kitchen and living-room, checking every entry point: windows, doors, the air-vent. She knew there was no reason why she should do that, since no one knew who she really was except for the people she worked for. Her training had taught her that second instinct to always check her surroundings, to always be on guard because that's what it took to survive; at least, in her line of work.
She relaxed as her eyes fell on the automatic hanging by the front door. Opposite it, in an ordinary looking cupboard there was a sniper rifle, but she only brought that out on special occasions.
A beam of sunlight sneaked through the half closed shades of the window and caused her retina to shrink. She squinted and moved away. It looked like a beautiful day, and a small part of her regretted that she couldn't enjoy it. Tomorrow she was off, so she promised herself that if the weather permitted, she would go out to the beach and have fun on the waves. At least there was something she had to look forward to.
Her palm buzzed. She glanced at it coolly and picked it up on the second ring. She listened to the voice on the other end, then she hung up.
His boots barely made a sound as he sprinted across the desolate bridge and entered the city. It was late in the night, so only the drunk, high and the homeless roamed the streets. As soon as he was in the shadow of the buildings, he slowed down to a walk and continued. Everything in him was taut and alert, mindful of every movement and every sound. A gust of wind rustled the leaves of nearby trees, the only sound that interrupted the ghostly silence.
Two blocks from him he heard the faint screech of a cat. He turned a corner and scanned the brick walls of the two buildings surrounding the street. A few feet from him, barely visible because of the darkness, was a ladder; it came down from a fire escape railing. He jumped up so he could grab it, then used his hands to climb it until he could use his legs. The railing led all the way up the roof. Once there, he scanned his surroundings. He could see the bridge, but as far as his eyes reached beyond it, there were only small, residential buildings. In front of him, a couple of blocks ahead the outskirts of the city came to an abrupt end and taller buildings sprouted here and there. Further away the lights of the metropolis lit the horizon as they stood tall and erect against their bland surroundings.
He turned his eyes back to the roof he was standing on. He took his time walking to the other end of it and jumping to the next building. Finally, it felt like he was getting somewhere.
She cursed under her breath as she heard shouts and then gunshots coming from the other room. She couldn't tell how many of them there were exactly, but the number wasn't as small as she had hoped. She reloaded the magnum and swung the automatic over her shoulder. She heard the sound of two bodies falling on the floor as she approached the door at the other end of the hallway from where she had been waiting, hidden.
She took out a small detonator from her pocked and threw it into one of the rooms she passed, and ducked into another room. The detonator exploded, creating more noise than damage. The diversion worked, and she heard a door swing open, then footsteps. She didn't waste a moment as she came out of hiding, the magnum poised in front of her. She pulled the trigger once, hitting one target in the back. The other target turned, ready to reach for his gun. She pulled the trigger again, and soon he was knocked backwards, dead on the floor. She heard more footsteps and whirled around. Two more man stood in the doorway, though neither was armed.
For a split second she stared at them. She was ready to see both down when they raised their hands, palms towards her. They were unarmed.
She felt her stomach twist. Her assignment didn't describe them, nor what she was supposed to do with them. They weren't a threat, which was a problem.
He did a summersault as he landed on the next room. It had been farther away than he had expected, causing him to lose his footing. He got up and scanned the area. All the surrounding buildings were too far as the streets widened as they closer to the city. The only option he now had left was to go down and continue on the ground. He went down the fire escape railing as soon as he found it.
The calm, night silence was broken by the sound of gunshots coming from inside the building. He was alert once again, but he continued down the fire escape. He knew better than to hang around.
He stopped instantly when the fire escape ended. There was no ladder leading down from it, and he was too high up to be able to jump down safely.
He peered inside one of the windows. The only thing he could see inside was a desolate room. He made a quick work of the window and got it to open without having to force it.
The room was completely empty when he managed to sneak inside it. The only source of light came from the hallway, and although there was complete silence now, he could smell the presence of people.
Gage backed away, gun still pointing, and made sure the others were dead. She'd known they were dead before they hit the ground as she shot them, but she had to buy herself time to think. She couldn't let the two frightened men go, because they now knew her face. The only safe thing to do was to kill them, but she wasn't supposed to kill innocents.
Her fingers touched the throats of one of the men lying on the floor. The skin was still warm, but there was no pulse. She began to get up, when the tension in the room changed. She turned around as she pulled the trigger again, knowing that her shot was going to be well-aimed.
The bullet landed in a wall.
The ground swirled as she felt the breath being knocked out of her. Something had pulled her legs away from under her, and she landed on the floor. She reached for her magnum, but it wasn't anywhere near her.
A dark figure grabbed her hand, and she let him pull her close enough she could bring up her knee and hit his side. She blocked the fist that she knew was coming, though it was unusually difficult to do that and hit his jaw with her left at the same time. Though her fist collided with his jaw, she still jammed her other knee in his stomach. Thinking she got him distracted enough, she attempted to flip the tables and try to gain better ground. The dark figure pinned her down with his legs. He tried to get a grip on her wrist but she blocked his attack. She attempted another left hit, but she realized her mistake too late as he took a hold of her wrist and brought her hand above her head. She grabbed his throat with her free hand in a last attempt to injure him, but almost instantly this hand joined her left.
Though she knew it was to no use, she tried to struggle. He only tightened his hold.
"You'll only do more damage if you move," he murmured calmly as he searched her body with his free hand, looking for hidden weapons. He found the small .22 pistol hidden at her back and the knife strapped to her ankle. He threw away the pistol, but tucked the knife in his boot.
She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. He was too close and she was in a much too compromising a position. Her body reacted before she could stop it. Mentally, she cursed herself.
"I don't want to hurt you," he said, "But if I have to, I will." She felt his grip slacken, and the pressure on her legs had decreased. "You're going to let me walk out of here, and we won't ever have to see each other again."
Her mind worked quickly as she tried to think of a way to pretend like she was going to do what he wanted, while she would manage to put a bullet straight through him. She nodded, her plan half formed.
He let her go and she waited until he moved away to get up. She noticed that he was holding the magnum as he waited for her to start walking.
"How do I know you're not going to shoot me as soon as I turn my back?" she asked, stepping away from him, her eyes glued on the gun.
He raised his head and for the first time, she saw his face clearly. His eyes caught her off guard and she almost stumbled on one of the dead bodies. His silvery eyes seemed to penetrate through her as she backed up against the wall.
"If I wanted you dead, you would be."
She sneaked a look down on the floor, noticing that a gun lay by one of dead bodies. All she had to do was to reach down and grab it. She knew she could make quick work of it, but she didn't know how fast he would be able to react. She was deciding if was willing to the chance or not when they both heard sirens coming from the street.
She let instincts take over, knowing that she only get this one chance to strike. She bent down and took the gun in her hand. In one swift movement she switched its safety off and loaded it, while pointing it at her knew target. She pulled the trigger as she moved towards the only exit besides the front door. She noticed him duck, but instead of raising his gun, he began to move after her. She aimed and pulled the trigger again, but again, he ducked away from the shot.
She felt the force of his grip before she could react to his quick movement. The glass shattered against her back as he lunged against it, holding her as a shield. She tightened her muscles and prepared for the fall that was to come. They landed on the stairwell together, and she could feel the hard metal pressing against her back as his large bulk covered her. She pushed him away and they booth got up. She knew there was nowhere else to go besides down, and there was a good chance they were both going to die if they tried to jump.
She sirens got louder, and a car pulled up at the front of the building. She scanned the brick wall, looking for another way to get down. She climbed up on the side of the railing and reached for the other window. She managed to get a decent grip, and her legs reached the top of the first floor one. From here, she knew the jump wouldn't be as dangerous, so she let herself go. Her feet hit the ground and she groaned and as a slight pain surged through them, but otherwise she was unharmed. She looked up, and a pair of glowing, ruthless eyes stared back at her. She suppressed a shiver as she took off down the street, tucking the gun somewhere more accessible than the back of her pants. She slowed down to a sprint as soon as she was far enough, and took out her palm to confirm completion.
She made sure she wasn't followed before she turned into an alley, where her car waited for her. She quickly went in and locked herself in. Only then did she allow herself to breathe normally. Who was he? Never before had anyone been able to best her like that, man or woman.
A gunshot flew past his head as he ran, but they didn't follow him. They had bigger fish to catch inside, he was just the unfortunate bystander who was caught in the crossfire but managed to survive. He found another alley he could hide in, and he went up to the roof again. He looked around to make sure no one was watching, and continued his journey, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. He didn't rush; the girl had managed to give him a few good bruises which he hadn't expected. Although she had looked like the type who could handle herself in a sticky situation, he hadn't thought she would actually fight him. She had been amusing at first, but the little entertainment had cost him, and he was slowing down. He wondered how long it would be until someone got wind of his whereabouts.
The sky began to lighten, and he knew he needed to find a place where to lay low.
Gage cursed under her breath as she slammed her apartment door shut. It wasn't like her to get in trouble. Her jobs were always clean, swift and effective. There were no plan B's or half assed kills. Or people left alive.
Her palm buzzed and she jammed her finger in the ON button. "Yeah?"
"What the hell happened?" A familiar voice called out.
She sighed and took out the gun from its hiding place. "He came out of nowhere, D, I don't know who he was."
"Yeah, neither do we. Did you get a look at his face?"
"Yeah. He had these strange, glowing eyes, I've never seen anything like it."
There was a pause from the other end. "Hold on," he said, "Lemme run something . . . No, nothing. Maybe he's a civilian."
"Could be."
"Well, I don't have anything to report to you yet. There a lot of cops at the scene which, you know, isn't good, but you did what you were sent to do, so no problem from this end so far. Just be careful next time."
She shrugged. "You know me."
"I do," he said, "That's why I worry sometimes. Take care." The line went dead.
She put the palm down next to the gun and she went to her bedroom, where she stripped off her clothes. She knew she wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight, so she put on a fresh outfit and headed back out the door, leaving behind the gun and the palm. Tonight she was just going to be Gage Tote.
The bar was noisy, and the music loud and energizing. She ordered herself a double vodka with a tinge of lemon and rested her elbows on the counter, scanning the room. A few eyes glazed over in her direction, but she ignored them. Men who wanted to possess her were always a problem for her, so she stayed away. She preferred the ones who were like her, just looking for a good fuck and a brief good bye.
She downed half the vodka as soon as the bartender brought it to her, and concentrated on getting her mind away from tonight's job and those glowing, quietly dangerous eyes.
A pair of warm, strong hands touched her bare stomach and she turned around slowly, ready to accept or push away depending on how she felt about whomever it was that was touching her. He had clear blue eyes and a set jaw, full lips and an intense gaze. His smile was intoxicating as she looked into his eyes and saw exactly what she needed to see. She liked the way he wanted her and that was all she needed to know about him. Her hands hooked around his neck, as she smiled back at him. "Hello."
"Can I buy you a drink?"
"I already have one."
"Dance with me?"
"Sure."
He took her to the small dance floor and pressed his body against her, swaying gently to the rhythm of the music. She wondered why the touch of a stranger, and the affection of a stranger was so soothing to her as she gave in to his touch and let him make her want him. He pulled her close, and she looked over his shoulder, knowing she wouldn't be able to truly let herself go until she made sure there were no dangers.
She almost passed him over, hidden in a corner, half in shadow, his body still clad by the same dark cloak. But he looked up just as she was about to look away. Time stopped as his eyes fell on her. In a split second she remembered her magnum, and the gun in her apartment, and the knife he'd taken from her. She looked away, pretending to turn her attention to her dance partner, wondering if he recognized her.
The handsome stranger swirled her around then brought her back to him, and an automatic smile plastered across her face.
Something caught his attention and he looked over her shoulder, suddenly stopping his movements. Someone put a hand on her shoulder, and Gage turned, shock rippling through her as she recognized the face. It was him.
"May I have this dance?" He held out his hand for her but she could no longer see his eyes – they were covered by a pair of goggles. Something in his tone called out to challenge, and Gage was too much of a competitor not to bite. She looked back at her previous partner, who nodded and let her go.
She stepped into the arms of the enemy as easily as if she was meeting a lover.
"Who are you?" she asked, wondering what kind of danger she had gotten herself into as he put one arm around her waist and took her hand in his. She noticed he was no longer covered by his cloak.
"You don't need to know. I need a place to stay tonight, and you're going to let me into your apartment." She could sense the unspoken threat behind his words, but she wasn't worried, at least not yet.
"What if I won't?"
"Put your hand to the small of my back."
She did, and felt the hilt of the knife hidden beneath his shirt.
"That's hardly a problem," she said, turning up the corners of her mouth into a deliberately mocking smile.
He bent his head, and she felt the tingle of his breath upon her skin as he spoke. "You don't know what I can do with that knife."
"But I'm dying to find out," again, she flashed him her mocking smile. She wasn't half bad with a blade either, otherwise she would not have carried one with her.
He was quiet as he moved them away from the dance floor. She noticed him grab a bag and swing it over his shoulder as he led her out of the bar. The atmosphere changed instantly, the tension thickening as soon as their feet crossed over the threshold of the entrance and into the world outside.
"Look, you've got two options. You can let me hang around your apartment for a while without a fuss, or I can kill you and stay in your apartment anyway."
"What if I kill you first."
His mouth turned into a small smile, and he shrugged. "I guess that would be unfortunate, but unlikely."
She looked him over, trying to find weak points, places where she could strike and do the most damage. He was a large man, unfortunately well built and he had technique. She was almost half his weight, and she knew better than to think that she could defeat someone who looked like he'd spent half his life on a fighting ring in hand to hand combat. She had to think of something else to use to use against him other than her fists. Problem was, the only weapons available were in his possession.
"So what's it gonna be?"
She thought about all the things she could do him once she had him inside her apartment, and the decision was made. "Okay, as long as there's gonna be no funny business."
He chuckled and began to walk in the direction of her apartment. "You're not my type."
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"Make yourself at home," she said as they entered the apartment. She saw him glance at the gun which lay on the table, but he walked past it. "That way," she pointed to the end of the hallway.
By the time she woke up the next day, around noon, it was as if he hadn't been there. The only evidence she found of his presence was the magnum pistol he had left on her table.
She stifled a yawn as she crossed her kitchen to the counter, where the coffee maker waited for her. Her palm buzzed, nearly falling off the table as it vibrated.
"Tote."
"What the fuck do you think you're trying to pull?" a steady, crisp voice asked.
Gage tried to search her memory for something she might have done to make an official speak to her like that, but she couldn't come up with anything. "Sir…"
"Have you any idea who you let into your apartment last night?"
She swore under her breath, covering the palm to make sure he didn't hear her.
"In case you don't already know, his name's Riddick, full name Richard B. Riddick. He's got a criminal record longer than the phone book and he spent the night in your apartment! Every merc in the system would give their right kidneys to get a piece of this guy. His price tag gets higher with every crime he commits, and believe me, there's not a place he's been to where he hasn't done some sort of damage. You've put yourself and this company at risk now. It won't be long until someone will trace him through you, and God forbid that they catch you."
Gage sank down into a chair, her eyes falling on the magnum. How could she have been so stupid? "They won't, sir, I'll make sure of that."
"You're damn right you will." The line went dead.
She put down the palm, only to pick it up again as it rang for the second time. A more friendly voice greeted her. "You've got yourself in some deep shit, Gage."
She sighed. "I know, D."
"After Riddick left your house, we've managed to get some of our people on his tail. He's not very far from you, and it looks like he's headed into the city."
"What do you need me to do?"
"Catch up with him and do your job. Once he's dead, they won't come looking for him, we'll be happy, case closed."
She ended the call before she would let her friend know that attempting to kill Riddick was not exactly a good idea.
She glanced at the coffee maker, its appeal gone, her morning ruined.
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the constant rise and fall of his chest as he lay sprawled on the wooden floor, barely covered by the dark cloak, with his bag under his head. It had taken her days to find him, even with trackers on his tail. Although he seemed asleep and unaware of her, she knew better than to assume she could just draw her gun and take a shot at him.
She slid her new knife away from its holster, holding on to it tightly as she took noiseless steps towards him. He didn't stir. She thought about how to best disable him until she could effectively cut his throat. From her left pocket she took out a slightly moist handkerchief and tried to keep it as far away from her nose as possible. She was now close enough to touch him, but she needed to get to his head.
The rubber in her boots held as she kneeled down, once she figured out how to safely position herself close enough to him without disturbing anything around her. She wondered what kind of a dream he was having as she brought down the cloth, his face as tranquil as if he was a regular Joe enjoying a regular night's sleep.
She didn't notice his eyes gleaming as she was about to touch the cloth to his face. Out of her control, her hands went above her head as she was thrown backwards, landing on her back. Something held her wrists in an ironclad grip, but she still had the knife in her hand.
"You again," he muttered, his face not showing any kind of shock or surprise. She watched as he glanced at the knife, then back at her. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you."
Gage stared back at him, keeping her gaze as distant as possible, refusing to connect in any way with him, thinking, like she always did in moments like these, of nothing. If she let herself connect, she would be forced to think about the kind of situation she was in. Then there would be panic and fear, and she didn't want those to be the last things she ever felt.
He nodded, as if he understood some answer she didn't give. "You a merc?"
She shook her head, but it didn't seem to satisfy him. His gaze became colder. "You sure about that?"
Gage nodded, feeling his grip slacken.
"What the hell are you doing after me? Who do you work for? Are you a cop?" The tone in his voice became threatening as his voice began to drop a few octaves.
"I was told to kill you."
"By who?"
She shook her head, refusing to answer. "I didn't know who you were the other day. You have to die now, for my mistake."
His eyebrows came together, but he didn't look like someone who was about to strike. However, she recognized the killer in him and she wanted him to stop looking at her as if trying to look into her soul.
"You didn't answer my question." He pressed himself harder against her, pinning her legs completely.
Gage cringed but didn't protest. "I can't."
"Sure you can. Who told you to kill me? What did I do to whoever it is that wants me dead?"
"You're a criminal. The law says you should be spending the rest of your days in a jail cell. I don't care who you killed or why, but you took human lives that didn't belong to you. You should die." Gage kept her stare cold and stony as she said those words, watching as his expression changed from frustrated to angry, then back to frustrated.
"Well, from the looks of it, princess, you're not much better."
Gage didn't know when or how or why, but their lips touched. She wanted to shout out in protest as her every nerve felt like it was on fire, but he remained frozen above her. Instinctively their lips fitted together, and a small shudder went down her spine. His grip on her relaxed. She closed her eyes as they began to kiss. It didn't take him long to completely let her hands loose, and it didn't take her long to reach for the knife and quickly press it to his throat, nearly drawing blood.
"You move, I slide this across your skin."
Nothing moved, except for his hands. She couldn't stop him as he sneaked one underneath her shirt, and over her bare stomach. It traveled up under her shirt, stopping as it rested over one of her breasts. She almost gasped as he massaged, gently, sending ripples of excitement coursing through her.
Gage knew she would never have a better opportunity. Without thinking much about it she began to slide the blade across his throat. She managed to cut through a little before he yanked it away, surprising her with the efficacy of his move. His mouth came down on hers, hard. She reached for the magnum as his tongue slid in her mouth. The gun remained un-holstered as he stole her thoughts for a brief moment. When she got them back, she reached for the gun again and managed to pull it out as an involuntary groan escaped from deep within her throat. She kissed him back as fervently as he did her. She pressed the gun to his side and pulled the trigger, only to discover that a millisecond before her finger touched the trigger he had already diverted the aim of the gun. The shot landed on the ceiling with a loud bang, but no one seemed to mind.
His thighs felt strong as her legs hooked around them. She managed to get his shirt away from him, her hands enjoying the feel of his body, feeling as if he was her lifeline; if she lost contact, reality would rush down and she would have to either kill, or be killed.
He entered her without so much as a warning, though she had been expecting him for a while. He rocked them back and forth until they both reached oblivion. The warmth of his body was comforting as he collapsed next to her. She closed her eyes, all thoughts gone as he sneaked an arm around her waist and she knew no more.
The first thing she knew as she woke up was that she was naked on a cold floor. She reached around, trying to find something to cover herself with, only to discover that she already had a black cloak around her body. She stood up quickly, holding onto the dark garment as she looked around. Sunlight drifted in from a pair of gray, dirty windows, revealing a large, empty storeroom.
"Sorry, I thought of trying to put some clothes on you..."
She whirled around to find herself face to face with the only man she hadn't been able to kill.
"...But I decided not to."
He grinned, but Gage whirled around, looking for her clothes. As soon as she found them she dropped the cloak and began dressing. She wondered if he was staring - normally she would have been able to know if a man was doing that to her, even as her back was turned. As she pulled her shirt over her head, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that the magnum wasn't lying very far from where she stood. She knew she would at least be able to reach it before he realized what she was doing. Whether or not she'd have a chance to aim and pull the trigger was a matter of debate. There was a lot of risk involved.
She didn't rush as she went over to the gun and picked it up. She caught a glimpse of him looking at her as she holstered the gun, but he made no alarming move.
She began to walk towards the door, knowing that he knew she wasn't going to try and kill him anytime soon.
"I'll see you around," he called after her as the door slammed behind her, sending shivers down her spine.
She was in big trouble.
The first order of business was to get to the apartment and wash him off her. She was able to get rid of every trace of him from her body, except for the vivid memory that kept popping up every once in a while. A warm body entangled with hers, holding her... She cursed under her breath, trying to push away the thought while at the same time trying to steady the anxious tirade of panic that threatened to overwhelm her. Riddick needed to die, because it was the only way she would ever be able to feel safe again.
Her stomach turned when her mind suddenly took her back to the previous night. His hands on her breasts, strong and sure. His mouth on her own, the sweet taste of his tongue, the tingly feeling as it slipped into her mouth. The memory of her gun, cold in her hand, brought her back to reality. She looked at it as she held it poised in front of her, in the shower. She could feel its power, like a steady, comforting vibration under her touch. And yet it had been completely powerless against Riddick.
The feeling of uneasiness that had been growing in her stomach increased the next day, when her palm didn't buzz and she had no other contact from the people she usually got her assignments from. There were no messages from her friend D, either, which meant that she was either in serious trouble or everybody was on vacation.
Did they know about Riddick?
She went to her bedroom and turned the mattress over, then opened to box built in the bed. She took out her two .22's and their bullet boxes, along with the spare charge for the magnum. She hid a small, slick knife in her boot, for safety. She made sure that she put the mattress bad neatly, taking special care to put everything back in place.
She felt better as she held the two pistols, their weight comforting. She sought out her double pistol belt from the closet, secured it around her waist and fitted the pistols in the holsters. It felt good to have them there. She put the magnum on the table, making sure it was fully loaded and ready to blast away any animal that stood in its way. Gage looked at the gun affectionately, remembering the many times it had performed so well, flattening anyone with just a single shot.
A door opened quietly downstairs, and several pairs of feet stepped over the threshold in absolute silence. One by one, alert to every other movement, they went up the stairs until they reached her door. They knew they had to act fast; it was the only way they'd be able to do the job effectively.
Gage heard them before they stepped foot on her floor. She grabbed the trusty magnum and hid in the laundry room, knowing it would be the last place they'd search. From there she would be able to at least catch them off guard and get a few good hits before they'd start to fire back.
She heard the quiet loading of a gun and from the sounds of it, it was a semi automatic. She cursed under her breath, and waited.
They broke into the apartment without a sound, one of them an expert in opening locked doors. As soon as the front door clicked closed and they were close to her bedroom, Gage came out of hiding.
The force of the magnum nearly knocked her backwards as she let it fire. It hit the first two men in the middle of their backs, almost immediately impaling them. They fell dead on the floor. She ducked as soon as she saw the third man point his gun at her. The bullet hit the opposite wall, and she barely had time to dash for the shooter before he pulled the trigger a second time. She managed to catch him by his knees and drag him down to the floor. She stuck the small knife in his throat, and rolled him over to let him bleed out.
The unexpected sound of more footsteps reached her ears, giving her barely enough time to react before she saw the fourth man. She pulled the trigger of the magnum almost before she realized it, the act becoming real as soon as the man hit the floor.
Quickly she raised herself up amid the pile of bodies and let air come into her lungs slowly, filling them up steadily. As she let out the air, her muscles lost their tenseness and her mind began to function again. She needed to get a move on.
First order of business was the apartment. She'd wiped it clean the night before as part of her escape plan in case things got sour. She hadn't imagined they would get this sour. But now she had four dead bodies and absolutely no time to properly dispose of them. She decided to call it in to the police, knowing they would take their time getting to the apartment; she would have just enough time to clear out the essentials.
Her car waited for her a block from the apartment building. She flung her gear in the backseat and revved through the streets, trying to think of a place to hide. She knew well enough that there was, in fact, no place to hide if people like her were hired to kill her. They would find her anywhere; it was just a matter of time. Unless she gave them something much more important than her - a much more important kill, maybe someone like Riddick.
After some self coaxing she managed to convince herself that she was in control enough to be able to find him and kill him without further incidents. Of course, the wiser part of her brain told her it was easier to go after the people hired to kill her than after Riddick. Plus, she had never killed a man she'd slept with before.
The thought of killing him made her queasy; she was well aware of the fact that he was nearly impossible to impair, let alone harm. His only weakness was his preference for close combat. That would have only been advantageous to her if she had been a particularly skilled sniper. Since she wasn't, and anyway she doubted he was careless enough to expose himself like that, the only other option was close rang.. Both options left her vulnerable enough to allow him to finish her before she'd even get the chance to pull a trigger or throw a punch.
Gage wasn't sure what she feared the most - death, or being left alive.
Although her window was down, with the fresh air helping to steady her heartbeat, her ears didn't register the sound of footsteps. The alley where the car was parked was dark, and dusk was beginning to settle over the tired city. A dark figure passed behind the back of the car, to the other side of it. She felt the gun to her temple before she even realized that there was someone who was holding it.
"And we meet again."
Gage dared to look up, and his silvery orbs were the only visible objects besides his dark, large frame. Although the steel of the pistol, threatening and fatal, was cold on her skin, she couldn't help the small smile that crept upon her lips. She was luckier than she'd thought.
"I can honestly say that I'm happy to see you," she murmured, half sarcastically, a fresh idea sprouting in her head. What was man's second greatest weakness? His own ego.
"Try not to move too fast." He opened her door. "Let's go for a ride."
She nodded and slowly moved to the passenger seat, carefully avoiding the stick shift.
He turned on the ignition.
Gage lifted up her leg slowly, using the protection the dark offered to reach for the small knife she had tucked back in her boot.
In a fraction of a second she felt her chair being moved all the way backwards. His gun was down, both his hands pinning hers against the back of the chair with her knife between his teeth.
"You disappoint me," he said, and she imagined she could hear the laughter lurking behind his throat. The knife dropped down on her stomach, touching the small part of her bare skin that her shirt failed to cover. The sight caught his eyes, apparently intriguing him. He dipped his head and his mouth touched her skin. A shiver coursed through her body. Gage bit her lip to keep from making any sounds as his mouth traveled up her stomach. Her wrists were pinned by only one hand now, as the other exposed the rest of her torso. A throaty gasp escaped her when he reached a particularly sensitive spot. The sound distracted him, causing him to look up. She looked back at him, and the spell broke. He grabbed the knife and let go of her hands, sliding the small blade in his own boot. "You should know better than to try to pull something like that. It's just not going to work."
"Maybe it will, eventually."
"So until then you'll just keep trying to kill me over and over again?"
She nodded, becoming aware of her exposed skin. As she pulled down her shirt and straightened herself up she caught a glimpse of that look of his she had seen just a minute before. She couldn't quite place it, but she sensed that there was some sort of restraint going on on his part. Whether he was fighting the impulse to just finish her or ravish her, she wasn't quite sure.
The car pulled out of the alley and zoomed down the street.
Gage let him get comfortable, waiting for his guard to slacken so she could reach for the pistol that lay mere inches from her left hand. If she could do that then she had a good chance to take another go at him.
His guard did seem less rigid as he pulled into an expressway, pressing the gas pedal and moving the stick shift as the car gained speed. She tried to disregard the direction in which they were going as her hand inched towards the gun. The lights up above them flickered as they zoomed past them, casting ominous repetitive shadows over their faces. She studied his profile as her fingers touched the cool metal. He had a determined expression, his lips closed tightly, his eyes barely blinking. For a brief her eyes caught sight of the small stubble that had grown on his jaw. For some odd reason she knew that it would tickle her slightly if she ran the back of her hand over it or if her cheek rubbed up against it.
The gun was now completely in her hand, her finger poised on the trigger, and still he didn't move. She lifted it slowly, then quickly put it up to his head. This was it.
"I'm sorry, but I have to do this."
His head turned slowly, no sign of panic reflected in any of his features. "If I let go of this wheel to try to stop you, we'll both lose die."
"Slow down and pull over."
"Only if you promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"That you'll give me a fair chance."
She almost laughed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"No guns. Just us."
The car began to slow down.
Gage wondered how much she could trust him. But she was the one with the gun. She nodded. Part of her was reluctant to lose. Somehow, winning just didn't seem all that appealing.
The car screeched to a stop, and he got out almost immediately. She followed, shedding her jacket and throwing the pistol somewhere out of reach.
He stood a few feet from the car, tall and unfaltering. The streetlights could barely reach here, the most distinct, visible object being the shadows. She walked up to him, three feet away.
The first hit hit her hard on her chin. She hadn't expected it so soon and so fast, but she recovered quickly and lunged at him. He bested her in strength, but she was good enough to be able to throw in a few good punched before he attacked again. She managed to duck just in time, also avoiding his knee that was aiming straight for her abdomen. She caught his side and hit it as hard as she could. She hooked a leg around one of his, and pulled.
They both collapsed on the ground, sand and dirt stirred around them. She felt it crawl inside her shirt, sticking to her clammy skin. She wasted no time and used her legs to pin him, her hands on his throat. His hands rested on her hips, trying to push her away. She could feel him bruising her skin, but she refused to give in to his strength. Her fingers pressed on his throat, though she had more trouble with it than she expected. He was pulling her away, her hands beginning to lose their grip. She managed to squeeze his waist tightly enough with her knees to be able to hold on. His breaths were raspier now.
As she focused on pressing her fingers harder on his throat, she forgot that she had left his entire lower body completely free. The blow came, unanticipated, hitting her in the middle of her back. Her grip slackened and her back arched involuntarily.
Instead of another blow, she felt his hands on her skin, underneath her shirt, firm but harmless. He reversed their positions, causing her to hook her legs around him in order not to lose grip. She was powerless now, but she couldn't help but try. Her fist flew at him, but it landed weakly on his chest as his hands worked up her torso.
He bent down, and she expected some sort of final blow. Her eyes closed, and she tried to still her mind. Instead, his mouth claimed hers, opening her lips and plunging deep inside without any sort of repercussion.
Her muscles relaxed, molding to him instead of opposing him.
He was fully inside of her now, his mouth still molesting hers. They soon parted as he rocked them back and forth. She could feel the dirt sticking to the rest of her skin, to her arms as they spread out, his hands traveling up them, their fingers entwining.
She could see small beads of sweat on his skin, noticing a red spot where she had been able to land a particularly good punch.
She let herself scream into the night as he gathered her to him. She screamed out of frustration, mixed with intense pleasure. Her hands sneaked around his shoulders, and she held on tight as they lay still on the earth.
She wasn't one to cry, but silent sobs still shook her body as she realized, this time fully, that whatever she was trying to achieve, like getting rid of Riddick, was just not going to happen.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" she muttered, not realizing she had spoken.
"I think it's best that we just don't talk about it."
She chuckled, brushing away her tears as he let go, moving to lie next to her.
She got up, pulling her pants up with her. The car was close enough so she could lean against it, as she tried to still her mind. A thousand thoughts buzzed through her head, but as she glanced over to Riddick, who was now standing up as well, she realized that none of them made as much sense as he did. Out of everything that surrounded her, including their small fight and her whole situation, he was the one who made the most sense to her. He acted on his impulses. His plans didn't seem to include anything so tragic and life changing as her own.
"How do you do it?" she asked.
"Do what?"
"Screw me up like that."
He touched a sore spot on his side, attempting to peer at it but realizing he wouldn't be able to see it no matter how much he wanted to. "I just couldn't help it."
"You were holding out on me, weren't you?"
His grin was intoxicating. "I knew where this was going to go all along, I just thought I'd let you have your way a little first."
"Unfair."
His expression suddenly became serious. "Would you rather prefer to get killed?"
"Do you want the truth?"
He responded with a raised eyebrow.
"That's what part of me wanted. I have a life or running and of being hunted ahead of me, if I choose to continue on living it. Somehow, it makes sense to prefer death."
"Well, you're right."
She looked up.
"But there's another option. Stay with me."
"So they can kill you, too?"
He shook his head. "Living is better than dying. Dying with someone is better than dying alone. But not living alone, I think that's better than all the rest."
She nodded and studied him a moment. "I think you're right. But now you have to run with me."
"I've been running my whole life. It won't make much of a difference to me."
"No? No difference?"
He looked back at her. "Maybe a little."
She chuckled and allowed herself to be pulled next to him, no longer resisting. "I'm soo fucked up."
He chuckled and she felt a cold piece of metal on her wrist. "I think this belongs to you."
She looked at him, for a brief moment imagining taking the blade and running it over his throat. She knew he would let her do that now.
She lifted it up in her palm and glanced at it, then at him. "Thanks."
He turned towards the car, and got in. She followed after him, glad to feel the purr of the car, no longer threatening, as it zoomed down the freeway once more.
The End