Author's Note: Yeah, another short one. Hopefully it's good despite that. The feed back's great, keep it coming!
Oh, and mrs. skywalker: I can't believe that happened! You two must be traumatized...
Chapter Twelve
Even after his shower, Riddick didn't sleep well. Something in his gut shriveled up, making him feel like he was harboring something dead inside his body. It was guilt. Guilt over pleasuring himself while imagining her. The gnarled knot of subtle self loathing steadily clawed its way from his belly to his chest, putting unmistakable pressure on his left cavity.
Usually, when Riddick couldn't sleep he'd sit up to think. But thinking wouldn't help tonight. There was only one thing on his mind. Even though she was gone she wouldn't leave him in peace.
Eventually, the sun decided it was time to get up and start the new day. He rolled over for the twentieth time to examine his bedside plasma clock. Tartus had twenty eight hour days, and it was all ready half past six. The hanger should be open by now, and he should be able to retrieve the tumbler. From there it was on to New Mecca. There was no reason to stay here any longer.
x.X.x
An adamant, blinking, red light slowly wormed its way into Kyra's senses, bringing her out of a nearly comatose sleep. Her eye lids lifted minimally. It was dark, all except for the small flashing and a misty white glow that came from her left. She couldn't focus. The poorly lit room swam before her, swirling like mixed paint on an artist's palette. She tried to open her eyes wider, but it was too difficult.
She'd been drugged. She felt as if runny Jell-O was being pumped through her veins rather than blood, her teeth felt soar, and her neck was throbbing with stiffness. A grainy tingle, as if some one were pouring sand down her shirt, trickled along her spine.
Only on the verge of self awareness, she attempted to move and found she couldn't. At the moment it didn't bother her, groggy as she was.
Suddenly, the glow brightened, spewing light into the room.
She clamped her eye lids down and rolled her head away. Light at my back, not in my eyes... she thought vaguely, unaware that the words were an echo from her past and did not belong to her.
She felt the glare seep away and wearily allowed her eyes to creep open once again. Three figures, wearing all black and disguised by ski masks, had some how appeared before her. They stood shoulder to shoulder with their hands clasped behind their backs, as if they were waiting for something. They were square to her.
She absently noted that she was standing up. Or, at least, dangling vertically.
She lifter her head (which she hadn't noticed drooping) from her chest. Images still pooled and danced in front of her dazed and hooded stare.
The figure in the middle, the shortest of the three, stepped forward. "Welcome home, Audrey." The voice was clearly feminine, and resonated with motherly satisfaction.
Kyra opened her mouth to speak, but the woman quickly back handed her. She slipped again into utter darkness.
x.X.x
I'll come up with an excuse later, Riddick told himself as he walked down the street with Kyra's bags hanging from him left and right. It made sense to bring the weapons, but her cloths were useless to him. You'll think of something. They're good for something...
He arrived at the hanger in no time. The place was practically deserted. He took the luggage aboard the ship before going to the front desk to inquire about the package. The employee there had his back to him, shuffling with something on the far counter.
Riddick cleared his throat. "Excuse me."
Someone stepped in line behind him.
The employee didn't respond. "Hey!" He just wanted off the planet. Off the damn planet...
The man slowly turned around. He was dressed oddly, for being on the job. Long turncoats usually weren't part of standard issue uniforms. "No," he said, his voice dripping with the need to satisfy a customer, "Excuse me."
The person behind Riddick shifted. Quick as a flash they pulled his goggles off. He turned around to pummel the asshole, and was assaulted by the focused beam of a high powered flashlight. His hands flew in front of his face, and he keeled over backwards into the service counter. The masquerading employee pulled out his buzz baton and slammed it into the base of Riddick's scull.
That didn't make him happy. Riddick reached out, groping for the man who had just electrically singed the stubble from his neck. He caught him by the collar and blindly plowed his fist into his pointed nose.
Abruptly, he was forced to let go. A third attacker engaged him, pushing an illegally improved taser between his legs. Once the coated man was free he swung at Riddick's head with all his might. The baton caught him just under the temple and sent him crashing to the floor.
The man behind the counter vaulted over it, and the three circled him. The one in charge of the flash light continued to aim the beam directly at his face. The other two tightened their grips on their electrifying weaponry.
With a guttural grunt, Riddick moved to free a shiv from one of the many concealed sheaths on his body. The men beat down on him at once. Seemingly out of no where, a fourth joined in the assault. They continued to strike him, slamming again and again. They whacked at him until he was bleeding from his mouth and his nose. Riddick was grateful when all of the light suddenly just faded away...