Riddick was in a deep sleep, uncommon to him. He had always slept on the edge of consciousness. Deep enough into sleep to rest his body, but still aware of his surroundings. He felt safe when just on the edge of consciousness. Deep sleep troubled him. Most of all, it brought nightmares. Dark images flooded his brain. Of Fry. What she had said and done for him. The look in her eyes before she was ripped from his grasp. The beeps and clicks of the monsters. The screaming, high pitched and long.
Wait. That wasn't in his dream. Riddick's eyes opened just enough for him to check the room for intruders. It was all clear, and he sat up quickly. Pulling on his shirt and goggles, he stood, and listened. Another scream found its way to his ears, and he pinpointed the source. It was Jack, out in front of the room. Telling him to run. Hobbling over, he peered out of the window. A large man was trying to stand, and Jack was looking in the direction of the door of the room.
Riddick saw the man stand to full height, the gauge held out towards Jack. She looked like she was going to run the opposite way.
'Smart. Get him away from me. But where do you go?'
Even has those thoughts passed through his mind, he felt a twinge of guilt. 'Smart? Jesus Christ, she was risking her life to protect him!' He'd only need one hand to count how many other people had ever done that for him.
Riddick stepped quickly to the door, and flung it open, just as the man pulled the trigger. Before he even had time to think about it, Riddick pulled out his shiv and threw it at the man. It landed in the left side of his neck, even before he turned to see who had come out of the room.
Sputtering and bleeding, the man fell to the ground. Riddick stalked over to where Jack was. He stepped over Jack's prone form, and then crouched before her. Her eyes were open.
'She's not in shock...yet, anyway. But she's losing a lot of blood.'
Her hands cradled her stomach protectively. The man had been aiming for her chest, Riddick was sure of it, but he had probably been distracted when Riddick opened the door. Peeling her hands away, he inspected the wound. He couldn't see much - other than blood and a small piece of intestine - because she was on her side. Holding her gently, he rolled her over. Jack groaned and shut her eyes.
'C'mon Jack,' he pleaded without realizing he was doing so, 'don't close your eyes.'
He hit her face, a little harder than he meant to, and she opened her eyes. With a start, Riddick realized that she wasn't even crying. Jack's lips moved, but there were no words behind them. Suddenly her eyes widened and she coughed, bringing up a mouthful of blood that seemed so bright as it ran down her ashen cheek.
Riddick knew she needed help. Help that he definetely couldn't give her. He picked her up as gently as he could, knowing that she was in agony, and positioned her so he was only carrying her with one arm. With the other hand Riddick grabbed the dead man and dragged him back to the room, dropping him in the doorway. He gently lay Jack down on one of the beds, and went back to pull the man all the way into the room.
Walking out quickly, he scuffed dirt over the two puddles of blood where Jack and the dead man had been laying, turning the dust into mud. Covering that with more loose dust, Riddick surveyed his work. No one would notice that unless they were looking for it. Hopefully.
He returned to the room and shut the door. Between the beds sat a holophone, and that was Riddick's next destination. He covered the camera so the operator wouldn't be able to see him, and dialed the nearest emergency service.
"Yes, may I help you?" a bored sounding woman said over the speaker.
"I'm in room 14 of the Lunar Motel. There is a wounded girl here. We need someone right away. She's lost a lot of blood."
"Yes, sir. Lunar Motel. Room 14?" She sounded more alert now.
"Yes," Riddick replied. Lowering his voice, he said, "Lady, you don't want this kid to die. If she does, I'll track your ass down personally, and kill you very, very slowly."
Without waiting for a reply, he hung up the phone and pulled the chord out of the wall. He returned to the dead man. Reaching in all of the pockets, he looked for identification. Riddick found none, but did come up with two hand gauges, and enough credits to get him room and board for at least two months, if he spent it wisely.
Probably a fucking merc. 'Isn't there an off-season on my ass?'
Riddick was just about to move the man into the bathroom, lest Imam walk in and see him, when there was a noise behind him. Turning quickly, he saw Jack. She was trying to get up.
He stood so quickly that both of his knees popped loudly.
'Does this kid ever quit?'