Title: Darkness Is A Friend Of Mine | Chapter NINE

Author:Musesinspire

Rating: R (language, violence, relationships later in story)

Disclaimer: I own nothing other than my computer and my car. Buffy belongs to Whedon and Riddick belongs to Vin, One Race and whoever else helped produce it.

*****

"It was a plan that would have worked."

Silence.

"I'm serious! It would have been perfect."

Silence.

"OK, so maybe not 'perfect', but it still would have worked."

Crickets in the silence.

"Oh, c'mon! Cut me some slack here!"

I heard the rustle of clothing and then I saw Caitlyn moving into my field of vision.

"I'm thinking that the whole 'not talking' thing… that's a great plan." She says.

"Look, OK, I'm sorry. This," I shake the shackles on my wrists for emphasis, "was so not part of the plan!"

Silence.

I sigh. I can't help it. I'm a bit put out with them. It's not like I planned for us to get caught by these people! I mean, how was I supposed to know that there were slavers in Nevada?! It's not like the slave trade was a booming business that last time I was in Vegas… a hundred and sixty years ago!

I peer through the darkness, once again thankful for the Slayer abilities, and saw where the team had been placed. I shifted on the hard, dirt floor of the room and looked around a little more. Nice, the barn was a nice touch for a business that looked on people as livestock. I shifted again, trying to get comfortable and noticed a young boy, not more than seven or eight, sitting hunched up in the corner near me. He looked so frightened that my heart went out to him and I shifted so that I was facing him more fully. There was something about him that captured my interest. He looked up at me, and then quickly looked back down, trying to hunch himself up more into the corner.

"Hey." I said to him softly.

He looked up at me and then quickly looked away.

"Hey, it's OK. I won't hurt you." I said to him quietly.

"That's what they always say…" the boy mumbled.

There wasn't really anything that I could say to that. I had no idea what kind of life this boy had lived.

"Where are your parents?"

"They left with the other truck yesterday. They help herd the cattle."

Now call me thick. Sometimes, things just don't process well with me; maybe it's all the hits to the head I've taken over the years. But I just couldn't seem to stop myself. I could hear Caitlyn behind me trying to get my attention, but she just wasn't quick enough. The words were out almost before I had fully thought them.

"Your parents are slavers?! And you're here in shackles with us?!?!"

The boy's eyes widened and he quickly looked around, trying to make himself smaller in his corner. I could hear some grumbling coming from around us and could sense the other people shifting and moving around after hearing my outburst. I could make out fragments of sentences, like "it's because of his people we're here" and "let's show him what it's like…" It didn't take a genius to figure out that things were about to get ugly, and fast, if I didn't do something.

I could hear the people moving around, muttering and mumbling, and then silence started descending over the room. I sensed, rather than saw, someone separate from the group and move over to where we were. I looked up, and up, and up until I finally came to the face of the largest man that I had ever seen, dressed in dirty, ragged clothing, filth on his skin that I could see and long, stringy hair. The stench coming from his body was enough to make me want to gag. What had me worried though was the look in his eyes. Outside of Spike in full-on 'Game' mode, I had never seen such a look homicidal blood lust before. It was enough to make my blood run cold. But, I had caused this; I would end it if I needed to.

"I'm sorry." I said to him, as he stood there, breathing heavy. "Did you need something?"

"Buffy." Chris said in a warning tone.

"Well?" I asked, ignoring the warning glances and signals coming from the team.

The man just stood there, his eyes becoming more glazed with his (I hope) psychotic thoughts as he stared at the boy.

"You know…" I said, standing up and facing the man, "it's extremely rude to stare. Why don't you take a picture, it'd last longer."

The man switched his gaze from the boy to me. I could barely suppress the shudder that threatened to wash over me. The man wasn't right. I mean, beyond the whole 'I'm a homicidal maniac who hasn't bathed in years' thing. I couldn't put my finger on it, but now that I was full-on concentrating on him, there was something about him that had my Slayer instincts screaming 'fight or flight'.

I had learned long ago to trust those instincts implicitly.

I lashed out with the heel of my hand, punching him and quickly followed with a double jab to the sternum.

Only to blink in surprise when the man didn't so much as twitch.

As he turned his attention back to me, I couldn't stop the hitch of breath when I saw his eyes begin to glow a dull reddish-orange and he smiled a sadistic, teeth-rotting grin. Oh hell… This was really going to hurt.

And that's when both mine and Faith's Slayers took over.

*****

I don't remember much about the fight. I was always fast and strong… I had to be to fight the vampires. But with Faith's added abilities, I felt like I could take on a convoy of semi's and walk out without breaking a sweat. I felt superhuman, and that's probably all that saved my life. The Inhuman man that I was fighting might have been slow, but he was insanely strong and he was built like a fortified brick wall.

I ducked and dodged his lumbering grabs and swipes only to discover yet another disadvantage that I had to face; the slavers had secured my wrist shackles to the floor with a length of chain. This severely dampened my good spirits, since it became obvious when I almost dislocated my shoulders when I unknowingly reached the end of the chain unexpectedly that my options were becoming increasingly limited and that there was no way I was getting out of this fight without this thing getting in a few good licks on me.

Keeping an eye on the lumbering Tower of Pisa, I debated my next move. Unless I wanted to break something, punching him was out… not that the punches had much effect anyway… But, I was quick to remind myself; that was a humiliation to savor at another date and time; like after I had dealt with this problem.

Dodging him again, I dropped and rolled so that I could come up behind him. He stumbled over the chain that my hands were attached to and I saw an opportunity and grabbed it; jerking my arms up and over, causing him to trip and land on his knees. Spinning quickly, I slammed my foot into the side of his head with a nimble roundhouse kick. While that kick would have likely taken a vampire's head clean off (eww!), it did little more than cause this guy to lose his balance and fall onto his side.

I quickly ran up and pulled my leg back to kick him in the ribs (hey! – it's a down and dirty fight… you do what you gotta!), while he was down when he suddenly swung an arm out and it tangled in the chain, throwing me off-balance and causing me to fall into a heap of chains, dirty arms and legs and possibly other assorted filth that I just really didn't want to think about right now. By the time I had gathered my wits again, the man was up on his knees and he made a clumsy grab for me. I tried to skitter away, but his reach was longer than my chain, since he was kneeling on it. Suddenly, I was lifted in the air and thrown towards the wall, only to come up short due to that damn chain again and ended up being slammed down into the floor when I reached the end of the length of it. I felt my elbow dislocate and I knew that this had to end.

I lay there on the floor, listening to the yells, screams and general chaotic noise, waiting for the moment that I needed. Suddenly, I felt a large, rough hand latch onto my ankle and I was roughly jerked backwards. Using the momentum from the pull, I rolled over and kicked with all of my strength into the man's throat, crushing the area where the larynx would be.

As the man dropped my foot, I stood up and delivered a side kick to his head, sending him off-balance and crashing back down to his knees. Seizing the opportunity, I swung my hands up, aided with the shackles, into a nasty, powerful hit under his chin that caused him to start rocking backwards. I quickly looped the length of chain between the wrist shackles around his neck and jerked towards me. As he started falling forwards, I dodged around him so that I was facing his back, causing the chain to tighten around his neck. Forcing my knee into his back, I pulled on the chain with all of my strength, ignoring the pain screaming through my arm from the dislocation, shoving my knee into his back and pulling until he was bowed backwards.

He started clawing at the chain, his face turning red as his air supply was cut off. I kept the chain tight around him as his face changed to blue then purple, all while he frothed at the mouth, his tongue protruding. Slowly, the orange light started to fade from his eyes and his struggles lessened until finally they stopped altogether.

I loosened the chain from around his neck and stepped back, watching dispassionately as the man fell heavily to the ground. I was tired, dirty and now that the fight was over, I was in a lot of pain. Therefore, I was really not too pleased when I heard the unearthly wail from the back of the darkened barn. I turned and watched in dismay as the other slaves quickly scattered, or were brutally hurled, out of the way. I couldn't help but blink in shock when the female version of what I had just fought lumbered over to kneel beside the man, an animalistic wail of sorrow coming from her.

Suddenly, she looked at me and I knew that I was at the top of her list. Just as I was readying myself for a fight that I knew I was probably not going to walk away from, the double barn doors burst open, flooding the area with light as seven men ran in armed with various firearms. The woman turned towards the men who had just entered, screamed in anger and rushed them. I couldn't help but be shocked at how fast she was compared to the male that I had just fought.

The men who entered didn't waste a moment of hesitation, they just started firing. I was dimly aware that everyone was dropping to the floor for cover and that Chris had grabbed and pulled me down as well. I could hear the different weapons as they emptied their clips of bullets into the woman storming towards them. Whether from rage or grief, the hits were barely even slowing her down and she reached one of the men, grabbing him and raising him over her head and slamming him down over her knee, breaking his back all in one movement. The man's screams quieted as he died.

The men started backing out of the room, continually firing the whole time as the woman broke the chains securing her into the room and following them, intent on death and mayhem towards all who got in her way. She finally fell, dead, at the doorway, her body riddled with what seemed like hundreds of bullets.

I rolled to my knees in silent relief, cradling my left arm to my chest and wishing that I had a Percocet. I looked at the man that I had fought and killed and both Slayers whispered that I had gotten lucky, that I shouldn't have walked away from that fight. I was barely even aware when the men came in and removed the dead bodies from the room. I fought the wave of nausea that threatened to overtake me and struggled to my feet. Through the haze of pain, I slowly became aware of the men that had, at some point, surrounded me with guns drawn. Shaking my head to try and clear the fog, I couldn't comprehend what they were saying. I could see Caitlyn, Chris and Sheridan yelling something, but through the agony, I couldn't make heads or tails as to what they were saying.

But I did understand the man coming towards me with the syringe. Faith's Slayer understood it, too. Neither of us could see any reason to stick around at that point and I promptly passed out. The last thought that went through my mind before I sank fully into unconsciousness was:

If Faith could only see me now.

******

"Be careful. She took down a Flesh Eater… with her bare hands."

"Yeah, right. Tell me another one."

"I'm serious! The male we buried, she killed him."

"There's no way that tiny girl took down a Flesh Eater! It took six men with guns to put down the female."

"Hey, I'm only telling you what the cattle's telling me. The male'd set his appetite on Gary's son, this little thing didn't care for that; she's the one who walked away. So, I repeat, be careful."

I listened to the two men go back and forth for a little while; not moving so that I didn't give away that I was conscious. Instinct and self-preservation were running high and something told me that these people were going to want some answers that I didn't necessarily want to give. The big one being how I took out Mr. T-Rex Flesh Eater. Somehow, I didn't think explaining that I was the cop against All Things Evil would go over well. Just going to go out on a limb with that one.

OK, so since I obviously have some free time on my hands while I'm a 'guest' at Slavers R Us, let's take a moment to review my time here in lovely Nevada of the Future.

Let's see… I woke up in the desert, am befriended by a lizard, get lost, get found by the strangest three people I have ever met (and coming from me, that's saying something), find out that there was nuclear war and most of the planet was reduced to rubble, tell my Slayer/searching for my daughter story to a group who had no problem accepting it (that in and of itself was disturbing), made plans to go recon the area for some group called Krell to see if we could get some intel (translation: we were going to beat the information out of them), get captured by slavers who had really good aim with their tranquilizer darts, regain consciousness in a barn with chains on, fight the Monster Truck Flesh Eater (or whatever the hell that was) and now, I find myself chained (with extra chains, I might ad… I don't know if I should be flattered or not) to a chair and being watched by the Short Bus Goon Patrol.

Yeah. So far, this week? – not a high point in my life. Just thought I'd put that out there. Just in case I forget at some point in the future.

Just as I was gearing up for a good long pity party, I heard shouting and the sound of running feet as the men watching me opened the door to see what the commotion was. The shouting was becoming frantic as it approached the door and I was finally able to make out something about 'Krell's pet getting loose' and 'shit hitting the fan'. The two men that were in the room with me began arguing about who would stay with the 'unconscious wench' (I'm going to presume that would be me) and who would venture out and help in the search.

Apparently, I was the lesser of two evils… I'm not sure how to take that.

They quickly made their decisions, with one of the men shoving the other out and slamming and bolting the door shut behind him. AS the shouting and running was added to with gunfire and screams, I couldn't help but wonder what sort of 'pet' this Krell (group or person?) had. I had just about decided to let the guard know that I was actually awake and ask just what exactly was going on… when I felt it.

Just like when a tiger knows that another predator has enter its staked claim, I knew 'something deadly' was near. I could taste it; I could feel it and I knew it would kill whatever was in its way. I decided to wait and see what happened.

The problem was, however, that I couldn't see. When I opened my eyes, I discovered the rat bastards had placed me with my back to the door! OK, so not cool. And maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to open my eyes, as the light that was so brightly shining made my headache instantly feel like a hundred little trolls were busily banging away in my skull with tiny troll hammers. Yeah, I think I'd like to die now.

I closed my eyes in an effort to ease the pain and that's when I realized that the danger was getting closer; just like I could sense it, it knew I was here, too. It was hunting for me. And it was close.

Fighting the need to move, for a wild dog will only attack when you move, I pondered over my options. I couldn't help the small smile over the fact that whatever it was, it thought that it had me unawares. I kept calm and let myself relax, almost slouching in the chair Just as I was about to grow tired of the waiting game, I heard a small noise from behind and then I could suddenly smell the acrid sweet smell of a fatal gut wound. I couldn't help but wrinkle my nose in distaste. Gut wounds were just too messy. I had ruined several sweaters before determining that decapitation was just as effective and if done right, much less messy.

I noted that no cries came from the door, which was impressive. There still had to be guards around, unless they were dead… yet whatever it was had just killed my guard without being seen. A most excellent skill.

Even though I hadn't heard a sound, not even an exhaled breath; I could sense my stalker coming closer towards me. I knew, with my strength and Faith's combined, I could break the chains securing me in place. I just had to decide, do I play this waiting game or not? Faith's Slayer growled, pacing back and forth like a caged panther, waiting for the opportunity to strike. I was beginning to understand a lot about Faith, homicidal tendencies and all. My Slayer kept a tight rein, waiting for my decision.

I could feel the presence, like wind on grass, it was so strong. It was studying me, waiting for my move and that's when I made my decision; no more Miss Nice Buffy…

And I released both Slayers.

*****

The chains broke with a grinding squealing shriek and I leapt from the chair, spun around and faced the danger fully. The Slayers in me readied, waiting for the attack.

Imagine my surprise when I found myself facing a girl no taller than myself, headful of long brown curls, big brown eyes and two wicked looking curved knives covered in blood and gore.

Imagine my surprise even more when something in me put together a puzzle piece and it made sense. Now double that surprise when apparently that same thing happened to her, because at the same time, we both said it:

"Slayer."

You could have heard a mouse fart after that. Then something else occurred to me. Two Slayers. One generation. Not good. Hellmouths tended to blow up when this sort of thing happened.

I couldn't help it. I sat down heavily, dropped my head in my hands and groaned. "Shit."

The girl blinked. "Uh… OK… I'm Kyra. Who are you?"