Alou: This one seems short...
Rayen: I didn't want to do a POV switch in the middle of a chapter this early in the fic...

Alou: You could have fleshed it out.

Rayen: I tried... It kept sounding dragged out and the ending of the last chapter was too good.

Alou: Alrighty. Well they know the drill. I don't feel like doing it today.

Rayen: Sounds good. Everyone enjoy this one. If you ask before next week, I'll upload the next chapter early.

Chapter 10: Abandoned?

After Fry had a freak out over Imam's eldest's prayer beads, we were all at the settlement standing around the skiff. I was leaning against a container. Jack and Ali-the youngest Chrislam—were running around playing, exploring everything. Imam and his other sons- Suleiman and Hassan—were messing with the water recovery unit to try and get it working so we weren't relying just on my water bottles.

And little old "Cocktail-hour" was whining about the skiff. "I mean I can usually appreciate antiques, but… uh…"

I rolled my eyes. "Who cares if it's an antique? As long as it can fucking fly and get us to the Sol-Track shipping lanes."

That shut the brat up, but Johns responded. "Little ratty-ass."

"Nothing we can't repair—so long as the electrical adapts," Fry said as she messed with something.

I rolled my eyes, and walked away. I was really starting to get fed up with the three of them. Fry was hiding something, I just didn't like Paris, and Johns was a liar and a toxic-dump. Shazza was also beginning to grate on my nerves with her disregard of the fact that Riddick did not kill Zeke, and probably wouldn't have. I needed breathing room before my cane got shoved down someone's throat… or up the other end.

So, I walked around the settlement. Something still felt off about the place… It screamed "RUN" and "DEATH". My foot touched something, so I knelt down, setting down my cane so my hands could sweep the ground for what it was.

It was a rag doll. My fingers carefully dug it out of the dirt, and then dusted it off before tracing its features. It had button eyes, and a sewed on smile, which had some loose stitching. Its dress was felt, and had been ripped by her former owner probably taking her everywhere with her.

"What are you looking at?" the baritone of the convict sounded gently above me from my back.

"A little girl's doll…" I stood carefully, my cane abandoned in the dirt. "It has all the signs of how much it had been loved… the girl wouldn't have left it behind…"

He leaned over my shoulder to look at the doll, a hand resting at the top of my right hip as if to let me know he was there. "Have you checked the scent?"

I blinked, then shook my head before lifting it to where it would be easy to do so. And then, at the exact same time… we both inhaled.

Blood was what the doll reeked off, along with that scent from the grave… This poor little girl had been killed by whatever had gotten Zeke. And my heart stopped. The little girl had probably been ten or eleven at the most… Jack's age.

Jack reminded me of myself… only she had the guts to run before something went bad…

I didn't realize I was starting to hyperventilate until Riddick's hands rested on my shoulders. "Take a deep breath. Calm down."

I did as he ordered while he gently rubbed my shoulders. It helped me to calm, though I suddenly felt my stomach churn, and I shoved the doll into my bag.

"Excuse me…" I pulled away, and broke into a run to somewhere I was sure I was out of sight, and I retched.

Those hands pulled my hair out of the way, then began rubbing my back. How could someone so considerate be an escaped convict? And a murderer to boot? It made no fucking sense… everything this man did for me practically spits in the face of everything Johns claims about him.

"Easy. Deep breaths," he ordered as I coughed and more of my stomach contents poured onto the ground. "Calm down."

I wiped my mouth when I finally stopped. "When a woman says "excuse me", usually the person it is said to does not follow."

"I had a feeling what you were going to do. The way your heart started racing, your breathing was hitching," he said softly, still rubbing my back.

I stood. "Thanks." I think this "monster" was more human than anyone else.

"No problem," he started to walk away.

"Hang on," I turned and started to follow.

"What?" was the growled response.

I walked over and stood in front of him. "Why are you taking care of me? Or even following me?"

He must have smirked. "When you're a predator, you don't often find people who respect you. Who aren't afraid to die at your hand. When you find one, you usually make sure they're alright. That includes following them and taking care of them."

Rayen: Remember, ask, and the chapter will come early.