Chapter 4


"So just like that?" Shazza asked Johns, and Fry rolled her eyes. "Click your fingers and they're one of us?" Everyone knew of whom she was speaking. Personally, Fry thought that she whined too much. Sure, Riddick was a killer, a psychopath, cruel and merciless. That actually seemed like reason enough to be upset, but he didn't kill Zeke. And that was Shazza's only problem with Riddick. Currently no one seemed to have a problem with Meera except Johns.

"Didn't say that. At least now I don't have to worry 'bout one a y'all fallin asleep an' never wakin' up." The cop explained in his Southern accent. It seemed reasonable enough.

That kid, the boy Jack, walked up to the three of them. "So can I talk to him, now?"

"No," Fry, Johns, and Shazza said in perfect unison.

-----

Meera's voice broke through Riddick's thoughts. "Where are we going?"

"Don't know. Just following the train," he told her; he was getting used to having her around. Ahead of them, the short, chubby, old man dropped a bottle full of liquor. "'Scuse me a sec, kid," he said walking ahead. He pulled at the power cell behind him, silently groaning. It was him who got stuck pulling the damned thing to the settlement. He had to deal with a thirty-kilo anchor and no breather, so that he was about to drop dead.

"Sure thing, bro." On the outside he stayed stoic, on the inside he was smiling. She had become accustomed to calling him "bro." He just hoped that when the truth was revealed, she'd still feel at least somewhat connected to him. Riddick walked over and picked up the bottle. "You go, boy," he heard her say as she walked over to him and the man.

"Paris P. Ogilvie. Antiquities dealer, entrepreneur," the man said, nervously sticking out his hand.

He shook it firmly, enjoying the pain that crossed the man's face. "Richard B. Riddick. Escaped convict, murderer." Meera snickered behind him.

"That's a particularly good Sharraz, lovely drop, very expensive. By all means please." Paris's voice slowly faded away as Riddick took a nice long drink of the wine, savoring the flavor. When he was finished he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and passed the bottle over to the kid. Paris turned on his heel and stormed off. "You know," Riddick heard him say as he joined the others, "if I owned Hell and this planet... I'd rent out this planet and live in Hell."

"I think I agree," Meera said handing him the bottle. "I'd rather you live there too... that way you wouldn't be here, now." Riddick gave a short laugh in the back of his throat. They looked at each other. She gave him an innocent look. "What'd I say?"

This was one hell of a kid.

As they started walking he felt the weight of the cell lessen. Confused, he turned to look at the rope and saw one of Meera's hands holding on, helping him. Riddick smiled at her and looked down to see her other hand playing with the set of dog tags that hung around her neck. They looked somewhat familiar to him. He reached out and stopped her fidgeting hands.

"What's with the tags?"

"Got them when I was little, when I have them, touch them, I don't feel so antsy," she told him. Her voice had a distinct tone in it that made his heart catch. What was this kid doing to him? Making him go soft?

"So who was the kid on that planet?"

She straightened up. "Jackson."

"Jackson?"

"My lit'l brother."

"Uh huh."

"Yeah well, I won't ever see him again," he heard her mumble. She certainly had that right, there was no way Johns was going to let them go.

A noise filled the air... clicking noises and it seemed to be coming from all around them. Riddick recognized those noises... he'd heard them when he was going to take Zeke's breather. He tensed up, his hand slowly traveling to the back of his waistline where his shiv-

"Dammit!" both he and Meera swore under their breath. "What?" they asked each other in unison.

"Don't got my shiv," he grunted.

"Don't got my blaster," she said through gritted teeth. Suddenly, he remembered her arsenal of blasters and he made a mental note to ask her about them when they got off the planet.

"Might as well just keep going. Johns has the big gauge."

-----

Meera looked around; they had finally reached the settlement. She and Riddick were supposed to be of help to anyone who needed it, but no one seemed to want their company. Except Paris. He tried to get her alone any chance he got.

"Leave me alone, little man," she said, finally running out of patience.

"Now, wait just a minute, I-"

She tilted her head to the left. "I've never actually killed for any other reason but to stay alive." Her eyes flashed and she licked her lips. "Wanna be the first?" She turned and walked away, leaving the question hanging between them. She walked parallel to Riddick, buildings between them – keeping him in sight – just like he had told her to.

Her eyes roamed over the rooftops cautiously, it wasn't safe to let her guard down. Figures moved up ahead, drawing her attention. It was the two boys, Ali and Jack. Jack moved on, motioning for Ali to follow him, but the kid stayed behind, glancing around nervously.

Meera licked her dry, cracked lips and asked, "Find anything?" She smiled wickedly at Ali. He jumped and looked at her, then turned and high tailed it after Jack. "Didn't mean to scare you," she muttered. Suddenly, someone whistled. She sprinted a few feet to the nearest alley and headed over to Riddick. "What am I? His dog, now?" she asked herself.

He looked at her, then tore the tarp off of a nearby building, revealing Jack. "Missin the party. C'mon," he tossed over his shoulder at the kid. She watched as he walked off, probably expecting her to follow. She did as he was expecting because basically, she needed someone to stick by. No one else wanted to go anywhere near her but Riddick.

He seemed to always be there; even when she didn't need him, he was there. He showed up one day on her planet, looking very familiar, and just happened to choose her-of all people-to bug, and bother, and generally, piss the fuck off. But since Johns had unchained them, Riddick had stuck by her, as if she meant something to him. In every reality, he treated her like she was his sister, or his equal. He-

"What does Fry look like?" his question startled her. Meera looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Beg your pardon?"

"Fry. The one who wanted to see my eyes." What? Was he interested in her? Was he going soft? First he adopted her and now he wants to know about Fry?

"Blonde hair, blue eyes," she told him, contemplating asking him about his question.

His tone when he spoke next left no room for discussion: "Thank you."

"No problem," she said.

They entered a decrepit building that seemed to be the former inhabitants' house, though it sure looked inhospitable. Two couches occupied the one-roomed building but their fabric and cushioning had long-since rotted, leaving nothing much more than the frame. A table had once stood in the corner of the room, but now it lay broken on the floor along with the chairs, which haphazardly lay strewn recklessly about the room. Whoever had once lived here had lived here no more for a quite a long time. There were two couches and chairs strewn all over the floor.

She opted to stand and leaned against a wall opposite Riddick. Looking around she caught Shazza's eye, who was staring at her with disgust. Meera tilted her head to the right and raised an eyebrow in a silent challenge; the other woman looked away.

Why did this woman suddenly have a problem with her? Back when she was prying Meera from the cryo-chambers she didn't seem to have a problem. So what? All of the sudden something kills her lover, she assumes it was Riddick, and takes out her vengeance on Meera? That wasn't going to happen. This girl did not play that nice with others.

"Has anyone seen the little one? Ali?" Imam asked, rushing into an already happening discussion.

"Has anyone checked the Coring Room?" Riddick asked. That's when they heard the scream.

-----

"Other buildings weren't secure," --Riddick leaned over the edge and looked into the hole-- "so they ran here. Heaviest doors. Thought they'd be safe, but forgot to lock the cellar."

Fry felt an involuntary shiver pass through her body. Just thinking about what had happened to those poor human beings made the bile rise in the back of her throat. She turned and sifted through some coring samples in a sorry attempt to take her mind off of it.

"Whatever they are, they seem to stick to the dark, so if we all stick to the daylight, should be all ri-"

"Twenty-two years ago," she said to herself, cutting Johns off.

"What?" he asked her, clearly annoyed by her interruption.

"These coring samples are dated." She picked up the last one and inspected it. "Last one is twenty-two years ago, this month." This find could either work to their advantage, or it could get them all killed.

"Does that mean something, Carolyn?" Johns drawled. She hated the way he used her name, as if he knew everything there was to know about her.

Suppressing her anger she said, "I don't know. Maybe nothing." She shook her head in though. "Maybe-" Before she knew what she was doing Fry was running through the settlement. She found herself in front of an orrery, where the rest of the survivors flocked around her.

Pulling at the gears she counted the numbers off in her head. Seventeen...eighteen...nineteen... The planets moved around the cylinder. The numbers ticked as the planets rotated for another year. Twenty... Sweat started to bead up on her forehead. Twenty-one... Her breath started to quicken. She didn't know if she wanted to see what would happen when the dial hit-

Twenty-two. The final click sounded and the system stayed in place. A giant planet with two rings blocked the two golden suns, and a tannish colored planet blocked the blue sun. Experimentally, she pushed the outer planet, not surprised to find that everything moved with it.

"A total eclipse," she whispered, looking at the others.

"You're not afraid of the dark, are you?" Riddick laughed. The sound made the hair on the back of her neck stand at its ends. Looking up, her eyes met with his and he smiled. For some reason, the small smile that crept on his face looked so natural to her.

"This is the dead land. This is cactus land. Here the stone images are raised. Here they receive the supplication of a dead man's hand under the twinkle of a fading star. Is it like this in death's other kingdom? Waking alone at the hour when we are trembling with tenderness lips that would kiss form prayers to broken stone." Everyone looked at the girl. "What?" she asked them. Did she not know what she had said?

Johns frowned at Meera. "What the hell was that?"

"Part of T. S. Elliot's 'The Hollow Man.'"

"Really?" he questioned, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You just making this up?"

"I do go to school, you know. Or at least I did," she answered him indignantly.

"Johns went to school. Didn't cha, Johns?" Riddick asked as if they were old friends.

"Yes, in fact I did."

The girl snickered. "Oh, so you learned to be this stupid?" she asked, her green eyes glowing brighter in a challenge.

"Shut up, you fucking whore," Johns said slowly.

Fry's eyes went wide. What was with these three people? It was as if they were all siblings. If she didn't know any better, she'd think they were.

Meera liked her lips. "I'm sure those words should probably hurt, but..." --she shrugged her shoulders-- "Considering who they're coming from? Well, let's just say, I'll save them for a sunny day."

"Yeah." Johns narrowed his eyes. "I guess, that was being nice. Considering how I found you, I mean, you know? Offering your services to Riddick for money."

Fry's jaw dropped. She looked at Riddick, who leaned against a wall. He raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. She was sure that he would at least defend himself. The girl was a minor for Christ's sake! But no, he just stood there.

Not that that should mean anything to him, the man was a mass murderer after all.

"Jealous, Johns?" the girl asked.

"Of Riddick? Hardly, I'd rather not get your diseases."

The corners of the girl's mouth twitched up. "Of me. I mean, at least Riddick would've allowed me to blow him. He wouldn't let you anywhere near his dick."

Johns pulled his gun out of his holster. Before he was able to do anything about it, Meera was all ready on him with her hand wrapped around his neck. She let out a laugh similar to Riddick's, a predatory growl in the back of her throat. "Give me a break! I can rip apart your throat before you can release the safety and put your finger anywhere near the trigger guard."

"Ok, just stop it now!" Fry yelled at all of them. There was not going to be any bloodshed, not while she was in charge. "Let's just get started."

-----

Meera walked out before anyone else had the chance to. Truthfully, she wasn't pissed; in fact, she wasn't anything. She walked between two buildings and sat down; even though she'd spent the last twenty-two weeks in cryo-sleep she was tired. Must've been from the lack of oxygen. No one had offered her a breather, so her body had to work extra hard for air.

"Gotta get those power cells from the crash shit. Shit! Still gotta check the hull, patch the wings," Fry kept her list going.

At first Meera thought the woman was talking to herself. Until Johns said, "Let's wait on the cells."

"Wait? Wait for what? Till it's so dark we can't find our way back?"

"Look, we're not sure when this thing is gonna happen. So let's not-"

"Just get the fucking cells here, Johns. What's the discussion?" Fry raised her tone.

"Maybe I should tell you how Riddick escaped."

Meera waited until they were inside the skiff before she followed them, keeping over to the opened hatch. Inside, the conversation was in full swing: "He can pilot?" Fry asked.

"Hijacked a prison transport," Johns answered. "Made a helluva good run 'fore I tracked him down."

"What? You want a medal?" she muttered.

"Ok. Ok, so maybe that's good. Maybe I could use-" Fry continued to ignore Johns's warnings and Meera was enjoying it.

"He also figured out how to kill the pilot," he interrupted the captain.

"Like killing a pilot's all the hard," she said to herself.

"You said we could trust him. You said you had a deal."

"Maybe you hadn't noticed, but chains don't work on this guy. Only way we're truly safe is if he believes they're going free. But if he stops believin-"

"You mean, if he ever finds out you're going to royally fuck them over."

"We bring the cells up at the last possible minute," Johns said completely ignoring her "When the wings are ready. When we're sure we can take off." Johns was an asshole, and Meera was going to kill him if Riddick didn't do it first.

Fry's reaction was exactly what she hoped it'd be: "You know, they haven't harmed any of us. Far as I can tell he hasn't even lied. Just stick to the deal, Johns. Let them go if that's what it-" She didn't need to hear anymore. Meera turned and walked away.

-----

Riddick sat with his back to the skiff. Johns walked off the gangway and doubled over. "Bad sign," he told him in an ominous voice, "shaking like that in this heat." The merc began to dry heave.

"Thought I." Johns stammered and whipped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Thought I said no shivs."

He looked at the knife he was using to shave his already-bald head. "This? This is just a personal grooming appliance." He waited for Johns to walk away and wiped his head with a piece of cloth he found lying around. Then he stood and walked onto the skiff just as the hatch was sealing.

Fry was running integrity test on the ship. He looked down at the power cell. There was only one. "Looks like we're a few shy," he said, startling her and she whirled around; he continued. "Power cells I mean."

"They're coming," she said quietly.

"Strange, not doing a run-up on the main drive yet. Strange, unless he told you the particulars of me escape."

Fry came around the cockpit and flicked off a nearby set of monitors, hand shaking on the switch. "I got the quick and ugly version."

"And now you're worried about a repeat of history?"

"T'has entered our minds," she said in a small voice.

"I asked what you thought," he said, stepping down on two base compartments that contained part of the main computer.

"You scare me, Riddick. That's what you want to hear, isn't it?" She looked him in the eyes. "Can I get back to work now?"

Riddick took a step forward as she turned her back to him. "Do ya...do ya think Johns's a do-right man? Think I can trust him to let us go?" He whispered against the back of her neck, enjoying the way she straightened her spine.

He heard her take in a sharp breath. "Why? What'd you hear?"

"Well I guess if it was trickeration he'd just X me out, huh? He'd do me." Riddick breathed slightly on her neck. He moved to the other side, brushing his lips lightly against her skin. "Then again, I'm worth twice as much alive." He grinned when her back straightening even more. "Ah, didn't hear? Your Johns ain't a cop. Oh, he's got that nickel-slick badge and nice uniform, but he's just a merc. And I'm just a payday." He switched sides again. "That's why he won't kill me, see? The creed, is greed-"

"Don't waste my time. We're not going to turn on each other, no matter how hard you try." She cut him off and walked over to the cockpit, sitting in the pilot's chair.

-----

Fry walked back to the cockpit and realized her mistake. He had never said anything about turning on each other! She heard him snicker and then his heavy footfalls coming towards her.

"I don't truly know what's gonna happen when the lights go out, Carolyn," he said, leaning against the steal chair. "But I do know: once the Big Dyin starts, this psycho-fucked family of our is going to rip itself apart." A screen in front of her beeped. "Hull integrity one-hundred percent," the monitor read. Riddick moved away from her, his heavy footsteps stopping by the hatch. "Ever wonder why Johns shakes like that? Ask him about it. Then ask him why your crew-pal had to scream so painfully." She turned around just in time to watch him ride the gangway down.

After waiting a few seconds Fry rushed out of the skiff, finding Johns in a nearby building. She had walked in on him poking some kind of needle in his eye, and now he was completely high.

"What are you really? You're not a cop."

"Never said I was," he told her lazily, lifting his head mere inches from the wall before letting it drop back.

She walked over to a red box and pulled open a red shotgun cartridge, revealing a dosage of morphine. "Never said you were a hype either." She tossed the open cartridge and the morphine back into the box.

"I have a little morphine in the morning, and you have a little caffeine when you can."

"Here you have two mornings everyday. Weren't you just born lucky?"

His words slurred together as he made his come back: "It's not a problem, unless you make it one-"

Fry cut him off. "No! It becomes a problem when you let Owens die like that!"

"Owens was already dead. His brain just hadn't caught on to the fact." Johns stared at her through half-closed eyes.

Her eyes flew open, her jaw dropped and she suppressed the urge to beat the stuffing out of him. "Is there anything else that you're hiding? Anything else I should know?" When he didn't answer she turned and started to walk away.

"Yeah well, look to thine own ass first. Right, Carolyn?" He spat at her before she walked out.


Come on guys, please review. I need reviews. Chapter 5 isn't as long, so it shouldn't take as long.

I hope.

~Litl A~