Notes: Here's the next Chapter for you, please review to tell me what you
think!
Chapter 4
After the initial consternation, Johns took Carolyn into the remainder of the cargo hold where he'd handcuffed this Riddick, the escaped convict, to a support beam. Alex followed them, wanting to see a glimpse of him. He was a big man, shaved head with a blindfold and a bit between his teeth. His arms, heavily muscled, were held behind him at an angle that looked uncomfortable. He somehow emitted the same feeling Alex had when she saw a big cat in the zoo, that long time ago. Captured, but always in readiness. Alex shivered unconsciously. This man was a killer, Johns said. A safe twenty meters away, Carolyn and Johns were discussing what to do with him.
"So, do we just keep him locked up forever?" Carolyn said, arms folded.
"Well, that'd be my choice," Johns retorted.
Carolyn whispered, "Is he really that dangerous?" Did Alex see the chained man's head move a little?
"Only around humans" Johns chucked humorlessly
Alex found her voice. "So you caught him, then? Taking him back to prison?"
Johns looked over at her, noticed her knives, and smirked. "Yeah, I did. Took awhile and went far, but I got him."
How dare he smirk at her weapons! "All by yourself?" Alex said dryly, raising one eyebrow.
Johns hardened his gaze. Maybe he had underestimated her a wee bit. "Yeah." He turned to Carolyn, placing his hand on his hip. No, not his hip. By where his kidneys were, on his back. He seemed to rest his hand there, feeling something. "Anyways." He looked back at Riddick one last time. "Let's see what we got in terms of cargo"
Following Johns and Carolyn as they picked their way over to where the others were, Alex thought about being captive, being in a cage. Perhaps she shared that with this Riddick guy, that she had been captive but without knowing for so many years. She thought of those bastards who did it to her, smiling smugly in their corporate offices, making millions and ruining the life of one "unimportant" person. The thought gave her steel, strengthened the walls. It was easier to sustain them when she was alone, but now.now that she had to be with only a few people. Things would be harder to hide. Alex felt for her arm knife, took a breath, and her eyes became green ice. Fuck Johns. She had a bad feeling about him, something that wasn't entirely honest. She'd give him one more chance. Just in case though, she might want to think about getting that sword of hers.
As they descended into the darker hold, she noticed the skinny guy, Paris, dragging out of all things an Egyptian sarcophagus. Alex had to restrain herself from running over to see it better. Egyptian lore had been one of her passions, a hobby, really. As she slowly walked over to get a better look, Paris started complaining about how everything had shifted.
"Whole bloody container's upside down it's all topsy turvy," he said to the kid, Jack, and Shazza and Zeke, who had gathered around him. He undid a chain that held the sarcophagus together to reveal a stash of liquor and a few chests hidden inside. He lifted one of the bottles, "Thank goodness it's not a total loss," he said, smiling at everyone. When everyone started helping themselves, he got flustered and started demanding receipts for "his own private stuff", but come on, they were stranded on a desert planet, the least he could do was share. Alex reached in and grabbed one, looked it over, then took a swig. Ugh. She had never liked alcohol even before she was a popsicle, and afterwards she could never risk dulling her abilities to fall prey to some street tough. But a little sip would wet her mouth, just a bit. She tossed it back to Paris.
"Thanks. Egyptian, about.Seti's time?" Alex questioned, gesturing at the sarcophagus.
Paris' eyes widened. "Yes, that's correct, how did you.?" he trailed off. Alex just smiled. She always prided herself on being able to judge the time periods. Then she caught herself. Don't give too much away, she told herself.
Carolyn swung the flashlight up to an upper corner, where Imam and his followers were gathered. Even though she offered it to them, he refused, saying they couldn't, especially while on hajj. The word caught at Alex, as she dimly remembered some of the concepts of Islam. So the world religions did survive, she thought. No matter, she already knew that if there was a God, he hadn't been seen in her company for the past few hundred years.
Paris closed the sarcophagus and started to drag it out of the ship, while the others rested a bit in the shade of the ship's interior, only slightly cooler than the outside. That beating sun was awful, she thought. Especially for someone unused to it like she was. Too bad it wasn't dark. Maybe it'd be soon, then they could do something. For now, the meager band moved as a unit outside, to take a look around. Johns strode off by himself towards the other large half of the ship nearby, where Riddick was chained. To check on him, Alex supposed. They were all pretty pitiful, really, and only had each other. Who knows when they would get off of this planet, if it even had life anywhere on its desolate surface.
Alex put her hand to her eyes and scanned the horizon, which stretched endlessly to nothingness in one direction, and in another there seemed to be large conical mounds, somewhat like termite nests. Termites here? But there didn't seem to be any insects flying or crawling around. In another direction there stretched a small mountain range. Perhaps in one of these directions they would find the water that Imam was so confident in.
As she stood to survey the landscape, Paris walked up to her. "Want some of this? I figure might as well share as we're all in the same boat anyways," he said as he offered one of the bottles to her. "How did you know the age on that sarcophagus? I've never met anyone but a few who could, they're so rare anyhow. And especially not a." he looked at her outfit nervously, eyes lingering on the knives, "person in your profession."
"A person in my profession?" Alex asked, confused. Suddenly it dawned on her, he must think she was a muscle-for-hire, carrying all that weaponry. A mercenary of some sort, she had heard talk of the widespread use of mercenaries now, as it was a little wilder of a scene on a lot of the planets. She put up a hand to refuse the drink. "No, no, I'm just a person traveling my way with a little.protection. And about the dating, well, let's just say it used to be a hobby." A few hundred years ago, she silently added.
"Ah, well.well done. Sure you don't want any?" Alex shook her head. Suddenly they both looked up as Johns came running out of the ship, towards the mountain range. Alex and Paris looked at each other, confused. Johns slowed, looking at the sand at his feet. About a half mile from the ship wreckage, he kneeled and picked something up from the sand. Alex couldn't tell what it was, but it made Johns get up and look around. As he turned towards them, Alex drew in her breath. It was the bit that was in Riddick's mouth. Johns threw it on the ground and stood up, jogging back towards the ship. Alex's heart pounded, realizing that the convict had escaped. The caged lion was on its way. Somehow, Alex wasn't surprised.
As Johns returned, Carolyn called out to him, "What is it?"
"Riddick's escaped," he replied, slightly out of breath, as he walked into the cargo hold.
"Oh shit, ohhhhh shit" said Jack. Everyone else looked striken. Carolyn, then Alex, then the rest of them followed Johns into the cargo hold. As Johns went towards his locker and pulled out a case, Alex went to hers.
She slid the large case onto a piece of rubble to hold it, then used the thumbprint identification to open it and reveal the blades. Everything was calm in the gleaming metal of the sword. It was a double blade with a Chinese design on the flat of it, but only about 3 feet long. The scabbard, antique rosewood, lay next to it, attached to the sword belt, which was made of a plain black leather band that would allow the sword to rest comfortably at her right hip. Alex sighed, smiled, then picked up the sword, then grasped it with both hands to hold the blade perpendicular to the ground in a sort of salute. It was the only thing besides herself that she could depend on, and it was almost like a living entity. She was glad that the long period in transit had not moved anything else in the case. With regret she sheathed the blade, then removed the belt from her case and buckled it on. She decided to take the extra knife for the sheath at her back, and then, feeling generous, she picked up the least well-made dagger to give to someone else. This was, after all, a killer that they were dealing with. She'd hate to see one of the others get killed without arms. Maybe she'd give it to the kid. He reminded her of someone, perhaps one of her cousins, but then with a touch to the sword she banished that thought from her mind. She didn't need the baggage, just to be cool, cold metal.
Alex closed the case and locked it, then placed it back in the locker. She'd come back for it eventually, and nothing that she absolutely needed was in it. The others were gathering on the bridge, she heard them, so she walked up. As the others noticed her, most of them raised eyebrows at her new addition.
"Yes?" she asked them, mostly eyeing Johns. Most of them looked away or at each other.
Paris, who was holding what looked to be some aboriginal spears, said, "Ah, well I guess you won't be needing one of these," and added a cheeky sort of grin.
Jack came up to her, staring at the sword. "Wow, that is so cool, can I see it?" The kid sort of had an idolizing look in his eyes.
Just as Alex was about to tell the kid that it wasn't exactly show and tell, "You sure that carving knife won't get in the way?" came a drawl from Johns.
Alex looked down at what he carried, a large semi-automatic looking gun. She hated guns. She smiled sweetly and said "Guns run out of bullets. I prefer my carving knife, thank you."
Chapter 4
After the initial consternation, Johns took Carolyn into the remainder of the cargo hold where he'd handcuffed this Riddick, the escaped convict, to a support beam. Alex followed them, wanting to see a glimpse of him. He was a big man, shaved head with a blindfold and a bit between his teeth. His arms, heavily muscled, were held behind him at an angle that looked uncomfortable. He somehow emitted the same feeling Alex had when she saw a big cat in the zoo, that long time ago. Captured, but always in readiness. Alex shivered unconsciously. This man was a killer, Johns said. A safe twenty meters away, Carolyn and Johns were discussing what to do with him.
"So, do we just keep him locked up forever?" Carolyn said, arms folded.
"Well, that'd be my choice," Johns retorted.
Carolyn whispered, "Is he really that dangerous?" Did Alex see the chained man's head move a little?
"Only around humans" Johns chucked humorlessly
Alex found her voice. "So you caught him, then? Taking him back to prison?"
Johns looked over at her, noticed her knives, and smirked. "Yeah, I did. Took awhile and went far, but I got him."
How dare he smirk at her weapons! "All by yourself?" Alex said dryly, raising one eyebrow.
Johns hardened his gaze. Maybe he had underestimated her a wee bit. "Yeah." He turned to Carolyn, placing his hand on his hip. No, not his hip. By where his kidneys were, on his back. He seemed to rest his hand there, feeling something. "Anyways." He looked back at Riddick one last time. "Let's see what we got in terms of cargo"
Following Johns and Carolyn as they picked their way over to where the others were, Alex thought about being captive, being in a cage. Perhaps she shared that with this Riddick guy, that she had been captive but without knowing for so many years. She thought of those bastards who did it to her, smiling smugly in their corporate offices, making millions and ruining the life of one "unimportant" person. The thought gave her steel, strengthened the walls. It was easier to sustain them when she was alone, but now.now that she had to be with only a few people. Things would be harder to hide. Alex felt for her arm knife, took a breath, and her eyes became green ice. Fuck Johns. She had a bad feeling about him, something that wasn't entirely honest. She'd give him one more chance. Just in case though, she might want to think about getting that sword of hers.
As they descended into the darker hold, she noticed the skinny guy, Paris, dragging out of all things an Egyptian sarcophagus. Alex had to restrain herself from running over to see it better. Egyptian lore had been one of her passions, a hobby, really. As she slowly walked over to get a better look, Paris started complaining about how everything had shifted.
"Whole bloody container's upside down it's all topsy turvy," he said to the kid, Jack, and Shazza and Zeke, who had gathered around him. He undid a chain that held the sarcophagus together to reveal a stash of liquor and a few chests hidden inside. He lifted one of the bottles, "Thank goodness it's not a total loss," he said, smiling at everyone. When everyone started helping themselves, he got flustered and started demanding receipts for "his own private stuff", but come on, they were stranded on a desert planet, the least he could do was share. Alex reached in and grabbed one, looked it over, then took a swig. Ugh. She had never liked alcohol even before she was a popsicle, and afterwards she could never risk dulling her abilities to fall prey to some street tough. But a little sip would wet her mouth, just a bit. She tossed it back to Paris.
"Thanks. Egyptian, about.Seti's time?" Alex questioned, gesturing at the sarcophagus.
Paris' eyes widened. "Yes, that's correct, how did you.?" he trailed off. Alex just smiled. She always prided herself on being able to judge the time periods. Then she caught herself. Don't give too much away, she told herself.
Carolyn swung the flashlight up to an upper corner, where Imam and his followers were gathered. Even though she offered it to them, he refused, saying they couldn't, especially while on hajj. The word caught at Alex, as she dimly remembered some of the concepts of Islam. So the world religions did survive, she thought. No matter, she already knew that if there was a God, he hadn't been seen in her company for the past few hundred years.
Paris closed the sarcophagus and started to drag it out of the ship, while the others rested a bit in the shade of the ship's interior, only slightly cooler than the outside. That beating sun was awful, she thought. Especially for someone unused to it like she was. Too bad it wasn't dark. Maybe it'd be soon, then they could do something. For now, the meager band moved as a unit outside, to take a look around. Johns strode off by himself towards the other large half of the ship nearby, where Riddick was chained. To check on him, Alex supposed. They were all pretty pitiful, really, and only had each other. Who knows when they would get off of this planet, if it even had life anywhere on its desolate surface.
Alex put her hand to her eyes and scanned the horizon, which stretched endlessly to nothingness in one direction, and in another there seemed to be large conical mounds, somewhat like termite nests. Termites here? But there didn't seem to be any insects flying or crawling around. In another direction there stretched a small mountain range. Perhaps in one of these directions they would find the water that Imam was so confident in.
As she stood to survey the landscape, Paris walked up to her. "Want some of this? I figure might as well share as we're all in the same boat anyways," he said as he offered one of the bottles to her. "How did you know the age on that sarcophagus? I've never met anyone but a few who could, they're so rare anyhow. And especially not a." he looked at her outfit nervously, eyes lingering on the knives, "person in your profession."
"A person in my profession?" Alex asked, confused. Suddenly it dawned on her, he must think she was a muscle-for-hire, carrying all that weaponry. A mercenary of some sort, she had heard talk of the widespread use of mercenaries now, as it was a little wilder of a scene on a lot of the planets. She put up a hand to refuse the drink. "No, no, I'm just a person traveling my way with a little.protection. And about the dating, well, let's just say it used to be a hobby." A few hundred years ago, she silently added.
"Ah, well.well done. Sure you don't want any?" Alex shook her head. Suddenly they both looked up as Johns came running out of the ship, towards the mountain range. Alex and Paris looked at each other, confused. Johns slowed, looking at the sand at his feet. About a half mile from the ship wreckage, he kneeled and picked something up from the sand. Alex couldn't tell what it was, but it made Johns get up and look around. As he turned towards them, Alex drew in her breath. It was the bit that was in Riddick's mouth. Johns threw it on the ground and stood up, jogging back towards the ship. Alex's heart pounded, realizing that the convict had escaped. The caged lion was on its way. Somehow, Alex wasn't surprised.
As Johns returned, Carolyn called out to him, "What is it?"
"Riddick's escaped," he replied, slightly out of breath, as he walked into the cargo hold.
"Oh shit, ohhhhh shit" said Jack. Everyone else looked striken. Carolyn, then Alex, then the rest of them followed Johns into the cargo hold. As Johns went towards his locker and pulled out a case, Alex went to hers.
She slid the large case onto a piece of rubble to hold it, then used the thumbprint identification to open it and reveal the blades. Everything was calm in the gleaming metal of the sword. It was a double blade with a Chinese design on the flat of it, but only about 3 feet long. The scabbard, antique rosewood, lay next to it, attached to the sword belt, which was made of a plain black leather band that would allow the sword to rest comfortably at her right hip. Alex sighed, smiled, then picked up the sword, then grasped it with both hands to hold the blade perpendicular to the ground in a sort of salute. It was the only thing besides herself that she could depend on, and it was almost like a living entity. She was glad that the long period in transit had not moved anything else in the case. With regret she sheathed the blade, then removed the belt from her case and buckled it on. She decided to take the extra knife for the sheath at her back, and then, feeling generous, she picked up the least well-made dagger to give to someone else. This was, after all, a killer that they were dealing with. She'd hate to see one of the others get killed without arms. Maybe she'd give it to the kid. He reminded her of someone, perhaps one of her cousins, but then with a touch to the sword she banished that thought from her mind. She didn't need the baggage, just to be cool, cold metal.
Alex closed the case and locked it, then placed it back in the locker. She'd come back for it eventually, and nothing that she absolutely needed was in it. The others were gathering on the bridge, she heard them, so she walked up. As the others noticed her, most of them raised eyebrows at her new addition.
"Yes?" she asked them, mostly eyeing Johns. Most of them looked away or at each other.
Paris, who was holding what looked to be some aboriginal spears, said, "Ah, well I guess you won't be needing one of these," and added a cheeky sort of grin.
Jack came up to her, staring at the sword. "Wow, that is so cool, can I see it?" The kid sort of had an idolizing look in his eyes.
Just as Alex was about to tell the kid that it wasn't exactly show and tell, "You sure that carving knife won't get in the way?" came a drawl from Johns.
Alex looked down at what he carried, a large semi-automatic looking gun. She hated guns. She smiled sweetly and said "Guns run out of bullets. I prefer my carving knife, thank you."