Riddick stood a few feet from the ramp, staring at the buildings in the distance. The town couldn't have been more than two miles away and they would surely make it, despite the heat and dry conditions. But that's not what Riddick was really concerned with. He hated to admit it but Jack's attitude confused him.

On that planet she had acted like a scared little kitten left out in the rain. But before, when he had touched her shoulder, he had been hit with a wave of fury rolling off the little girl. He didn't care that it seemed as though she hated him. Many people hated him. It was just a thing you had to get used to if you were a murderer. Still, there was that little voice in the back of his head telling him that this wasn't right. Something about her attitude.

'Did she snap?' He asked himself. It wasn't hard to imagine. A little girl, all white lace, stuck on a planet for almost two days, surrounded by murder and death. Not to mention the fact that she had been saved by a murderer. That had to be fucking with her head.

He wasn't worried about her and her mental condition as much as he was worried about what she would do. Physically, Riddick wasn't worried. He was at least twice Jack's weight. But would she try to keep him there? Would she sabotage his plans? Sabotage the ship? If she tried, he figured he'd pick up on it. But even he couldn't be everywhere at once.

Riddick abruptly began walking. He wasn't going to get anywhere debating with himself in the noonday heat of New Mecca. He had to prioritize, to plan. To heal.

'Get yourself fixed and then worry about the trip,' he told himself. He would have to let himself heal before he could go anywhere. The mercs would catch up to him a lot faster if he were wounded and on the run.