Author's Note: I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter. I kept rewriting it, but I had to stop because all of you have waited long enough for it.

Chapter 9
Something Worse

The cracked interior of the ship offered relief from the relentless glare of the suns. I stood at the entrance, watching as Shazza met up with the others. Johns and Fry were already outside, talking with the rest about what happened. Shazza was checking up on Zeke and Jack seemed to be contributing to the conversation. He kept pointing to the burrow and Zeke's respirator, probably telling them what I told him and Paris about Riddick.

Imam was shooing Ali and Hassan away from the grave site and Johns jumped down into it. He was investigating the ground and gesturing for something as he looked around. The others were doing the same. They even inspected Zeke to my and Shazza's annoyance, but no one dared to get close to the opening of the burrow.

Jack crouched at the edge of the hole, pointing at something and shrugged at Johns. Shazza looked over, saying something as she dapped a wet rag over Zeke's face and rested it on his forehead. Johns climbed out and began to briskly walk back to the ship. Fry followed closely at his heels. She appeared to be annoyed, glaring at his back.

I moved inside the ship, glancing at Owens briefly. He was still asleep, but Johns and Fry were being loud. Whatever it is, they seem to be in a disagreement. I stepped back out, blocking the entrance way.

"Keep it down. Owens' resting," I said in hushed tones.

Fry looked apologetic, but Johns' expression remained unfazed. If anything, he seemed relieved and more determined when he caught sight of me.

"Good, you have it," he said, extending his arm out with his palm held up. I gave him a bewildered look.

"My pistol," he clarified.

I forgot that I picked it up. I took it out from my belt and placed it onto his hand. He swiftly ejected the magazine, counting the rounds before slipping them back into place. I raised my eyebrow at his action.

"Just making sure," he said, the magazine clicking audibly as he attached it again. "It carries only ten rounds. He shot three times, didn't he?"

"I was around for the two," I answered. "I don't know about the unfortunate dead man, though."

"Shazza said it took a single shot to do him in," Fry informed, with a shake of her head.

"It fits," he said, tucking the gun into his belt. "So, bloodthirsty creatures, huh? Are ya sure it wasn't Big Evil?"

"I can tell the difference between a human and an animal," I replied. "It may have been dark, but I could tell when something not-human was trying to make Zeke its next meal. Riddick just showed up unexpectedly at the end of it."

"If you say so," Johns said with a wry smirk on his face. "You also said it didn't like the sunlight? Well, look at where we are." He spread his arms wide out. "As far as I'm concern whatever those things are they won't be an issue. Unless y'all are going spelunkin' anytime soon?"

I sighed quietly through my nose. I knew it was useless to get annoyed at him when he was purposely being dismissive to entice a negative reaction. I understand being pragmatic, but constantly thinking that way is short-sighted and will get someone kill. No one should ever wait until a threat is in their face to consider it, especially when it has already hurt someone.

"We should see what Riddick knows," Fry interrupted with a firm tone. "He said something about it."

Johns scoffs, giving her 'are you stupid' look. "Oh, sure. If you ask him nicely, he'll tell you everything. He might even give you a lollipop."

"What can he tell us that we don't know already or won't figure it out ourselves eventually?" I asked, frowning. "Besides, we shouldn't be wasting time anymore and start moving everything to the outpost."

"It wouldn't hurt to ask," she insisted, looking at Johns. "He was out there a lot longer than us."

"It wouldn't hurt she says," he sneered, flinging his arms up in anger. "Not this again. You know what he did to the last person that wanted to talk to him. No? Well, to this day no knows what he said or did to cause the guy to eat and shit out of a tube for the rest of his life."

Fry crossed her arms, looking unperturbed.

"Fine, be my guest!" Johns yelled, storming out of the ship. "Go talk to him, but don't say I didn't warn you when something happens."

"Sorry about that," she apologized, rolling her eyes as she looked away from Johns. "I didn't mean to ignore you. The others are already collecting their things and grabbing the other sled from cargo to help carry it all."

"It's fine," I said, shrugging.

"What should we do with Zeke and Owens?" she asked, taking a hit from her respirator. "You're the closest thing we got to a doctor and would know best on how to handle them."

I fiddled with my wristband, thinking for a moment before answering. "In a ordinary situation it would be ill advised to move them so soon. I rather we leave them for last, but that's not an option."

I look at Owens, continuing. "They would both need to be securely strapped down as to not jostle their injuries. Zeke's legs would also need to be protected, cushion if necessary. There's an infirmary at the outpost that we can put them in. It's near the skiff too. It'll make it easier for me to check up on them as we work on the ship."

"We're gonna have to make more than one trip anyway. We could leave them for last, and we don't necessarily have to carry them both in one trip either," she suggested, readjusting the scarf on her neck.

"That's true. But those power cells are bulky and heavy as hell. We'll need to be at full strength to carry those at such a considerable distance. And with the way we're going, we'll end up exhausting ourselves. It might be best to take them now when we're still good to go."

She nodded understandingly. "We could do that, or we could take three of the cells and either Zeke or Owens in the first trip. Then, we'll take some time to rest up before making the second trip to pick up the other half."

"That works, unless Johns makes adjustments to it," I said rolling my neck. "I have a feeling he won't like it for one reason or another."

"He always has something to say," she added in agreement, staring at the end of the compartment and back at me. "Well, if I want to talk to Riddick I better go now."

"Want me to accompany you?" I asked in concerned. "Just to make sure nothing happens."

The serious expression on her face eased slightly at my offer. "I would appreciate it."

Fry stood in the shadows for a few moments, gathering herself. Then she moved farther back into the container where Johns had secured his prisoner. I followed silently behind her, giving her plenty of space to backtrack should she change her mind.

In the darkest corner of the bulkhead, Riddick sat on his haunches, bound in chains. His eyes were closed tight and his head facing down. What I could see of his body was a mass of bruises, and there was a nasty swelling at his temple. I stayed out of the way, hoping to not attract his attention. Fry stood in front of him, keeping her distance and she look at me before looking back at him.

"What do you know?" she asked quietly.

Riddick didn't stir.

"Tell me about the sounds," she persisted. "You told Johns you heard something right before..."

He didn't move a muscle. He could have been made of stone.

"That's fine. You don't want to talk to me, that's your choice. But just so you know there's a debate as to whether we should leave you here to die."

I couldn't tell if he was still unconscious or refused to talk to her. Fry looked at me again and I merely shrugged. She sighed, turning away and planning to leave when he finally spoke.

"You mean the whispers?" Riddick's deep voice had a taunting edge.

"What whispers?"

"The ones tellin' me to go for the sweet spot..." he said, voice soft and dreamy. "Just left of the spine, fourth lumbar down. The abdominal aorta. It's got a metallic taste to it, human blood. Copperish. But if you cut it with peppermint schnapps that goes away. Course that's more for winter. Summertime I like mine neat."

I stared thoughtfully at his crouched, battered figure. He seemed to relish playing the role of resident boogeyman. It's a useful tactic, after all, fear is the best weapon of all great manipulators. It can move people to do anything, no matter how nonsensical it is. It also makes people more likely to be irrational, illogical and as a result, they make emotionally and volatile decisions. So what does he gain in trying to scare us? Someone revealing something that they shouldn't? Maybe unintentionally giving him the tools or opportunity to escape? Whatever the reason, neither of us was falling for it.

"Cut the bullshit," Fry said calmly.

Riddick tilt his head towards her, his eyes still closed. "All you people are so scared of me...and most days I'd take that as high praise, but it ain't me you gotta worry about now."

"Then what?"

He just smiled faintly.

"Show me your eyes," she ordered. "Show me, Riddick!"

I raised an eyebrow at her, wondering what does his eyes have to do with anything. Does she know something about it that I don't? Johns kept him blindfolded throughout the trip, but I just figured it was to make it more difficult for him to escape.

He gave her a slight smirk. "You'd have to come a lot closer for that.

Fry hesitated for a moment, but took tentative steps towards him. She stopped at a good distance away from him, wiping her sweaty palms on her pants.

His smirk widen. "Closer."

I frowned, silently walking closer to her. I don't know what was going through her head, but he was obviously going to do something. I was about to tell her to stop when Riddick lunged forward. She jumped back, nearly falling on her ass, but I grabbed her and kept her steady. I was almost tempted to let her fall as a lesson for falling for his obvious ploy.

My gaze snapped to Riddick. His body was so close to mine that I could feel the heat radiating off of his skin. I shook my head to refocus and took a deep breath, but that was a mistake. His masculine scent flooded my senses like a tsunami. It was so heavy and primal that for a moment I felt light-headed from the sudden rush. I swallowed, my mouth felt uncomfortably dry as I looked at him.

There was something both mocking and sensual in the way Riddick slowly raised his head and opened his eyes. His eyelids fluttered as if sensitive to even the faintest light. Then, almost shyly, they lifted.

Riddick's pupilless eyes gleamed like luminous black pearls. His sheened gaze was profoundly unsettling. Similar to the flat, pitiless stare of a starved jaguar that caught the scent of fresh blood. I completely forgot what I was going to say, but now I know what the blindfold was for. My movement caught his attention, and he turned his head fully towards me. The shadows fell on his face, revealing his eyes also have a slight jewel-like eyeshine to them.

His amused smirk turned into a lascivious one. He sniffed the air and took in a long, deep breath before leaning back. His eyes leisurely raked over my form, giving me a long, considering look. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

It was a rhetorical question, so I didn't answer and he didn't expect one either. "You're full of surprises, aren't ya? Blood clings to your clothes, but I bet there's not even a single scratch on you."

I looked down at myself, horrified to find my clothes to be in such a filthy state. My pants were grimy from the dusty sand, and my shirt was stained with splotches of two types of dried blood, a deep maroon and a pale blue. Despite the conditioned of my clothes the rest of me was mostly clean. I wasn't sweating from the heat, but it still effected the blood staining my shirt. No wonder he was able to smell me.

"Disappointed?" I asked, trying not to fidget and pick at my dirty shirt.

"Not at all," he said with a teasing half-smile. "If anything I'm intrigue."

The fact that I'm not seriously injured or dead makes me sound very suspicious. If I wasn't already on his radar, I'm certainly am now and that's a dangerous place to be. I wanted to avoid attracting attention, but in this situation I should've known it would be a lost cause. I care too much.

"What about your friend, Zeke-man? Was he so lucky?" he asked, rolling his neck and producing a rather loud, satisfying crack.

"Not that it matters to you, but he's fine," I answered, knowing that he doesn't actually care. After all, it would be one less potential threat in the future for him to deal with. I also don't think Riddick forgot how trigger-happy Zeke was when he shot the unnamed survivor thinking it was him.

"I'm sure it was all thanks to you," he said, not entirely surprise at the news.

Fry shifted besides me, her hand accidentally brushing against mine. I forgot she was there because Riddick's dominating presence in the compartment blotted everything else out. When I focused a bit more, I felt another person in the cabin with us. Riddick knew too, tilting his head to the left and gazing into the dark.

"Wow..."

The familiar voice shattered the brief silence. Fry and I looked over to see Jack lurking in the shadows. The boy's mouth sagged in rapt admiration once he caught a clear view of Riddick's eyes.

"How can I get eyes like that?" he asked fervently.

Jack's appearance spurred Fry to life, and she immediately pointed at the door. "Out!"

"Well first you gotta kill a few people," Riddick said, ignoring her.

Jack did the same. "Okay. What else?"

"Not okay," Fry snapped. "Leave, Jack."

Riddick continued as if he hadn't heard. "Then you gotta get sent to some slam where they tell you you'll never see daylight, never again. So you dig up a doctor...one that ain't totally stoned and deboned, and you pay him twenty menthol Kools to do a surgical shine job on your eyeballs.

"So you can see who's sneaking up on you in the dark." Jack whispered, awed.

"And cut his ass down first," Riddick finished emphatically.

Fry swooped down on Jack and physically ejected him. "Leave!"

"Cute kid," Riddick observed.

Fry's voice had a threatening edge. "Let's keep him that way."

Riddick settled back, liquid eyes regarding her calmly. "Well, so maybe I did X out a few lives," he admitted. "But since we've been here, I've kept my hands clean."

"As long as we don't give you a reason to change that," I piped up, staring at him with a knowing look. He had plenty of opportunities to do something if he'd wanted to and the fact that he hasn't was very strange.

He shrugged, giving me a 'you got me' expression. "Wouldn't anyone?"

"Yes, yes," Fry cut in, impatiently waving her hand in the air. "Let's get back on track. What do you know?"

His eyebrow raised at her testy tone.

"Look, you were out there for a while. You must've picked up on something," she pressed.

"Buy me a drink first," he said, putting emphasis on the word drink. "Then we'll continue our little chit-chat."

Fry looked unamused.

Without taking my eyes away from Riddick's face, I rummaged through my bag for the bottle of water. I'm not surprise he wants a drink in exchange for his continued cooperation. He must be dehydrated. because as far I know the only drink he had was that tiny bit of alcohol that Johns left behind. With how hot it was the alcohol probably evaporate within a couple of minutes. It wasn't a lot to begin with, but there should've been enough liquid to hydrate and provide energy for a very short while.

I opened the bottle and held it out to him. To get his attention I gave the bottle a slight shake, but for obvious reasons he couldn't reach out to take it. I glanced at Fry wondering if she'll stop me, but she didn't when I took a hesitant step towards him. In a few more steps I was standing directly in front of him. He lifted his head, licking his lips and giving me a teasing grinned.

"Closer," he whispered, huskily. "I won't bite."

I shot him a glare.

"Promise," he added.

I don't need to be a empath to know he's amused by my cautious behavior. Fry fell for his jump scare, but I don't plan to make it easy for him to do the same with me. I exhaling mentally, trying to calm my tense body and I inched closer to his face. He leaned forward, lips parting in keen anticipation as I held the bottle up to his mouth.

"Here," I said, slowly tipping it back. He closed his eyes, savoring the lukewarm liquid before gulping down the entire contents.

"Thanks," he said, letting his head fall to the side to look at me. A drop of water escaped and rolled down his chin. I eyed the droplet, feeling a strange temptation to wipe it off, but instead I pulled away.

"Well?" Fry huffed, crossing her arms.

"There's somethin' worse than me," he admitted, looking at Fry and then at me with an acknowledging nod. "You've seen it, seen what it can do and how vicious it was. Like a starving dog after getting a taste of fresh meat."

"I wasn't just watchin'," he added, "I was listenin' too, and I learned something about it."

He began to making clicking sounds with his tongue. "Clickety-click...Clickety-click...Click..."

Fry furrowed her brow, looking confused and turned to me for an explanation.

"That's the noise the creature made as it attacked Zeke and I," I enlightened, putting away the empty bottle into my bag. "It sounds like it uses a form of echo-location or something like it in order to see."

"It was blind? Shazza only mentioned it being photosensitive to the light," Fry said, an inquisitive look on her face.

"I wasn't absolutely sure, but it was something I did considered as a possibility if they're living underground," I replied, with a shake of my head. "For all we know maybe it's just the younglings with a photosensitivity to the light."

"The what?"

"Youngling. 'Cause that thing definitely wasn't a fully grown adult," I said, pausing for a moment to think about it. "It would've been a hell of a lot bigger if it was."

"How big?" she asked, concerned.

"About ten feet," I said, shrugging. "Maybe more."

Fry's face twisted into one of shock, but Riddick didn't look surprise at the information. He might've figured it out from the skeletons at the boneyard. The other species were able to take down the smaller ones, but the adults proved to be too much for them to handle. Even though there weren't any skeletons of the adults, they still left evidence of their size on their prey's bones. And with his unique eyes Riddick would've gotten a clear view of the creature to know if it was an adolescence or not.

"I'm pretty sure these creatures cause the other species to become extinct. And if those things can do that to deadly looking giants than we don't stand a chance."

"Do you think..." Fry began, but trailed off and for a moment she didn't look like she wanted to voice her thoughts out loud.

"What is it?" I asked gently with an encouraging smile.

With a deep sigh, she reluctantly finished. "That they're the reason the outpost was abandoned."

"Most likely," I said, but then I gasped softly as I recalled something.

"What?" she asked, apprehensive.

I hesitated, glancing up at Riddick's quiet form for a second. Just because he's currently at our mercy, doesn't mean it will stay that way later on. With each piece of information we reveal, it could help him better plan his escape. But I suppose at this point it doesn't really matter if he knows the telecommunications equipment doesn't work.

"Remember when I was checking the radio at the outpost?" I asked, sharing my epiphany. "There was a recorded message."

She nodded grimly. "What about it?"

"It was them," I confirmed. "The strange clicking sound was also in the background of it."

"Hmm, see?" Riddick interjected, nonchalantly. "There's somethin' worse than me out there."

"It's only a matter of time that those things become a problem for us," I said, disregarding his comment. "Therefore, we better get moving because I don't think we want to be here long enough to find out."

I casted one last look at the both of them, before turning to leave. As I walked away, I could feel two pairs of eyes on my back, but only one of them lingered long after I left.