Chapter 3
I re-joined the others, Johns making his appearance a few minutes later. He shot me a look, but I kept my face blank as I stared back.
"Find what you were looking for?" he asked.
"Yep," I replied shortly. To everyone else it would appear that we were having a nice conversation, but I knew what the merc was doing. He was fishing.
"The container's all topsy-turvy," Paris unknowingly interrupted, pointing to said item that lay in the distance.
"May as well check it out," Carolyn said, leading the way. Once inside only her, Johns, Paris, and I ventured through the maze of overturned items, Carolyn's flashlight illuminating the dim hold. We stopped in the center of the room, Paris producing a key to unlock a large chest that looked like an Egyptian pharaoh. He opened the lid and I found myself staring at an assortment of bottles. Alcohol?
"Well, thank goodness it's not a total loss," Paris said happily, picking up a bottle and handling it almost lovingly. I held back a snort.
Carolyn didn't look impressed. "Booze? This is what you have to drink?"
Paris ignored her, instead focusing on Johns who had swiped a bottle and was currently taking a swig. "I'm going to need a receipt for that. For all of this-this is my personal stash!"
I couldn't help but laugh as I too picked up a bottle and opened it, taking a much needed swig. Whiskey. Gotta love the burn, I thought as the liquid slid down my throat and warmed my stomach.
"I suppose this won't help you at all," Carolyn remarked, shining her light at the doorway revealing Imam and one of his students.
"Unfortunately, it is not permitted especially while on Hajj," he answered ruefully.
"You do realize there's no water," Johns said, sparing the holy man a glance.
Imam smiled. "All deserts have water. It only waits to be found."
"I hope you're right." Johns turned back around.
"All the more for me then," Paris said gleefully, closing the lid and locking it.
After a few minutes I realized that I was bored. Nothing else in the container interested me, but the other three wanted to stick around, so I left taking the bottle of whiskey along. Paris opened his mouth to say something about the alcohol in my hand, but shut it with an audible click when I glared at him. Sliding past Imam, I gave him a small smile which he returned.
Shazza, Zeke, and Jack were nowhere in sight when I exited. Taking another sip of whiskey I squinted up at the two suns, then out at the desert. Everywhere I looked there were mirages. The temperature had gone up since we crashed and I could feel my hair sticking to my skin; the breeze from earlier had died and I sincerely hoped it would find its way back. Licking my dry lips, I capped the bottle. Water would be heavenly right now, I thought. Imam was right; deserts always had water we just had to find it.
Not entirely sure what to do, I wandered around aimlessly. There wasn't much left of the ship and from what I could tell, even less would be salvageable. Coming to a stop, I realized that my feet had led me right back to the main bay. Oh, come on, I groaned inwardly. You're back here again? Remember what happened last time you did this. Yes, how could I forget? I had left with my curiosity not even close to being satisfied. Hesitating at the entrance, I took a breath, and then stepped inside.
After pausing briefly to let my eyes adjust to the difference in light, I silently crept forward. Stealth was one of the things I was extremely good at and unless I purposely made a noise, you would never even know I was there. Riddick hadn't heard me until I licked my lips, which showed that the rumor of his exceptional hearing was at least true. That being said, he would now be aware of my skill. I doubted I would be able to sneak up on him again, but that didn't stop me from trying.
I stopped in the same spot as before, my eyes widening in surprise as I watched the man raise himself up as far as possible, bringing his bound hands up and through a space in the split metal beam, his shoulders making a sickening pop as they were wrenched out of place, and then back in. He grabbed a small drill that was suspended by a couple of wires as he fell to his knees.
I stood frozen in place, not exactly sure what to do. I certainly hadn't expected this turn of events and his display of extreme tolerance to pain was a little unnerving–another rumor proved true. His back was towards me as he drilled through the restraints on his legs and he hadn't been alerted to my presence yet, which left me with two options: I could slowly back up and no one would be the wiser or I could wait like a moron and see what he'd do when he was free. It seemed like the hit to my head earlier had completely erased my sense of rationality, because for some unclear reason I decided to stay.
The restraints on his legs gave and he made quick work of the ones on his wrists, pulling the bit out of his mouth and then ripping off his blindfold. I shuffled a foot, figuring now might be a good time to announce my presence to avoid any potential 'accidents'. His head snapped towards me so quickly I was surprised his neck didn't break. He didn't relax his tight crouch as I cautiously stepped forward, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.
"You," he rumbled, a smirk gracing his features.
"You're eyes," I breathed, ignoring him. "They're beautiful…"
Actually, mesmerizing would be a better description. No, maybe amazing. The shine job stories were true as well, but they certainly didn't do it enough justice. Even when the man wasn't moving, his eyes shined from within like the many facets of a jewel. Without warning, he sprang from his crouch and before I had the chance to react, he had one hand around my throat. Wow, he's fast, even faster than me.
"Wha-"
In my surprise I dropped the forgotten whiskey and grabbed at the hand that easily encircled my neck, hearing the bottle shatter when it hit the floor. Pushing down my rising panic I quickly realized that he wasn't squeezing, just holding me in place, so I forced myself to quit struggling. His huge frame dwarfed my 5"3' height and I knew if he wanted to, he could snap my neck right then and there. His suspicious gaze bored into my more than slightly irritated one.
I attempted to clear my throat. "Well, this is awkward."
"What do you want, girl?" It wasn't really a question, it was a demand.
"Nothing," I answered. "Honestly. You just intrigue me, being the resident Big Bad and all."
He searched my face for any signs of a lie and finding none, he released my neck. Rubbing my throat, I glared up at him.
"Listen, I'm not going to go running off to Johns," I said. "Not that it really matters at this point anyway, since my whiskey bottle is now in pieces all over the floor he's going to know I was here. And I think you had enough fun intimidating me, so could you please remove yourself from my personal space bubble?"
Oh, yeah. Insert foot in mouth, right now.
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, almost wishing I hadn't listened to my stupid self about seeking out the convict. Curiosity be damned, along with my mouth. Hearing a low chuckle I looked up in surprise. Riddick's eyes glittered with blatant amusement and one corner of his lip curled. He moved away, picking up his hand restraints and bit as he went. Scrutinizing him, I almost missed the flicker of pain on his face when he walked through a sunbeam. His eyesthey must be sensitive to light. Looking around, I found a pair of welding goggles on the ground and picked them up.
"Here," I said, holding them towards him. "They'll help."
He turned around and walked over to me, the intensity of his gaze making me inwardly squirm.
"Thanks," he said, taking the goggles and putting them on. "Observant, aren't you?"
"Yeah, well, I kind of always have been," I replied, flashing a tentative smile. It wasn't returned, but I hadn't really expected it to be. Riddick was obviously used to being in control and I think the fact that I was catching little signs that other people couldn't see wasn't sitting too well with him. Now you know how it feels, buddy. "Well, I'll leave you to whatever it is you'll be doing. I'm sure your best friend will be here soon and then we'll both be in deep shit. Most likely I'll be in it before you."
"Don't like Johns very much, do you?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Um, fuck no," I retorted, heading towards the entrance. "The man's a complete ass. Anyway, if we meet again, please don't strangle me next time?"
Riddick only grunted in response. Well, it was better than no answer at all. Poking my head outside, I checked to make sure the coast was clear. I left the ship refusing to look back, that way if I was asked, I wouldn't be able to say anything. Except for the fact that you watched him escape and didn't do anything about it. Oh, and you gave him goggles. Way to go.
Shazza, Zeke and Jack appeared from behind a pile of wreckage, two of Imam's boys trailing behind, so I headed their way before Johns had the chance to corner me and start giving me the third degree, especially once he found an empty cabin.
"Hey, Eris!" Jack waved as I came over. "You find anything?"
"No," I said. I hadn't even been looking. "There isn't too much left."
"Aye," Shazza agreed. "We've been digging around and haven't had much luck. I did find some breathers we could probably put together, though."
The other members of the group emerged from the container, Johns excusing himself to go check on Riddick. Oh, boy. Shazza and Carolyn discussed the idea of a scouting party to search for supplies and possibly other life while the rest of us threw in a suggestion or two. We all looked up in surprise (well, not me) when Johns ran back swearing profusely.
"He fuckin' escaped!" he growled, kicking the ground in anger and causing small clumps of sand to fly through the air.
Here we go...
"What do you mean he escaped?" Carolyn asked a slight tremor in her voice.
"You heard me."
"That's just fucking great!" she snapped, running her hands through her hair.
The group immediately exploded, everyone talking at once.
"Well, we have to do something," Shazza said holding onto Zeke.
"He's going to kill us all," Paris moaned dramatically.
Imam and his boys were praying aloud while Jack kept swearing. How ironic. Like I had said to Carolyn and Johns a little bit ago, it really wasn't in Riddick's best interest to kill us. He's be stuck in the exact same position that he was in now, minus help. Finding a way off this damn planet wasn't a one man job. I didn't need to be reminded how dangerous the convict could be I forced myself to not touch my throat, thank goodness my tanned skin would hide any bruising but in this instance I wasn't worried. He needed us. For now.
Johns finally managed to shut everyone up and suggested that we get back to the cargo hold and find anything that could be used as a weapon before figuring out our next move. The suggestion was welcomed and as we headed back, Johns slowed until he was walking beside me; I knew he found what was left of my bottle.
"I don't know what you're playing at, girly-" he started, but I cut him off.
"I'm not playing at anything Johns," I said, keeping my tone firm. "I most certainly didn't help your precious cargo escape, so get the fuck off my ass."
"You little bitch," he snarled, grabbing my arm. With a deft twist I was free and quickly sidestepped around him, shooting one last glare his way before I caught up with the others. So glad I pegged him from the beginning, I thought. If he didn't like me before, he certainly doesn't like me now. Entering the hold I immediately sat down on a crate while the rest scattered.
"Aren't you going to look for weapons, Eris?" Jack asked a puzzled look on his face.
"Yeah, Eris," Johns mocked when he came in.
"No," I answered Jack, ignoring the merc. "I already have some."
I did a mental check for all the weapons on my person: Small throwing knife in each boot, small blade hidden underneath the black cloth band on my left forearm, and a medium sized, extremely sharp knife attached to a sheath on my right thigh.
Johns grabbed his pistol and shotgun, while Paris appeared with two weapons resembling pick-axes, darts in a large sheath, and some type of old shield.
"And what the hell are these?" Carolyn asked him, eyeballing the load.
"Maratha crow-bill war picks from northern India, very rare," he replied.
"And this?" Zeke pulled the sheath out of his hand and examined it.
"That's a blow-dart hunting stick from northern Papua New Guinea and that's very, very rare since the tribe is now extinct," Paris said, rattling off a quick history lesson.
"Because they couldn't hunt crap with these things would be my guess," Zeke joked. I couldn't help cracking a smile.
Johns, Paris (in a way) and myself had enough weapons; Shazza and Zeke produced a pick-axe, some digging tools and a hunting boomerang while Imam held up a beautifully intricate ceremonial blade–plenty for the rest to split.
"Well look, what's the point anyway?" Paris suddenly asked. He sounded exasperated and I guessed that it was more because he had to give up his precious artifacts than the fact that Riddick was on the loose. "If the man is gone, he's gone. Why should he bother us?"
"Maybe to take what you got," Johns answered, finishing up with his things and heading towards the exit. "Maybe to work your nerves or maybe just to come back and skull fuck you in your sleep."
Paris went from exasperated to terrified within 10 seconds and I tried my hardest not to laugh at the man.
"Sounds like a charmer," Shazza remarked, a disgusted look on her face as she walked outside, Jack behind her with the boomerang. Sighing, I got up and followed. Let the fun begin.
