Jack did as she was told and opened the windows. The room had to be at least a hundred degrees anyway. This done, she sat on the bed and sighed. She was tired, hungry, and wanted to take a long, hot shower. But the shower and food could wait.
Letting the muscles in her whole body relax, she flopped down on the bed. She must have slept a little because the next thing she knew Riddick was sitting on the other bed, and there was knocking at the door.
"Ridd-" Jack began.
"Shut up, kid. Don't call me that," Riddick said quietly, but with urgency. "In," Riddick called out to the door, adjusting the bandages on his leg. Jack noticed that he held a gauge.
'Must be expecting somebody,' she thought. 'Of course, he's an escaped ex-con. He's expecting the whole Company to be right behind him every second.'
The door opened, admitting Imam and another man into the room. The man was short and Jack thought, looking at his crooked back and joints, that it was as if he had been folded over himself and kept in that position for too long. He was almost completely bald, and his watery brown eyes swam like runny eggs behind thick glasses.
"Here's how it's gonna go," Riddick spoke up from the bed. "I'm gonna do the talking. That means keep your mouth shut you two, especially you kid. As for you," Riddick motioned towards the doctor with the gauge, "no questions and you get to keep your life. Understand?"
The doctor nodded, understanding perfectly well.
"All right. Get to work." Riddick rested the gun on the bed, never letting go of it.
The doctor went over to Riddick and knelt beside the bed, opening the bag that Jack hadn't seen in his hand before. He pulled out an odd looking gun-like apparatus with a screen attached to it, a few bandages, and some clear liquid. Untying the bandages on Riddick's leg, he shook his head.
"I'm going to have to cauterize it," he said to Riddick, who just nodded. Taking that as a sign of affirmation, the doctor pulled out a med pen from his bag.
"No," Riddick said, pointing the gauge at the doctor. "Put it away."
"It's just-" the doctor began.
"I don't need anesthetic," Riddick growled. "You'd be surprised at how much pain I can take. Put it away now." The doctor did as he was told.
"It's there if you need it," he said as he turned the cauterizing gun on. Pushing some buttons on the screen, he touched the gun to one end of Riddick's wound.
Jack watched all of this from near the door. Imam had sat down on the bed and was praying vehemently. She heard a hiss as the gun touched Riddick's flesh, and thought it was Riddick hissing. After a few moments however, she realized that it was just the flesh burning together. The smell eventually made its way to where Jack stood.
'Jesus, why won't he do anything?' Jack wondered. 'He just sits there, like it doesn't hurt at all.'
She stared at him for a few minutes longer. Finally, Jack saw, he clenched his jaw.
'Ah, so he IS human.'
Suddenly, the sounds and smells of the room were too much. She had to get out. She had to get away from him. Turning to Imam, she was going to tell him she was going for a walk, but decided against it. Jack was hesitant to bother him, and Riddick didn't seem to care where she went.
Opening the door carefully, Jack slipped out into the midday sun. Despite the heat, a cool breeze was blowing. She was thankful to get that burning smell out of her nose.
Jack walked quickly, reading all the signs, humming to herself. Suddenly, she paused in front of a sign. She knew it would look odd, a kid just standing there reading a sign. But that was the point. She was reading again. She was alive.
Walking again, she smiled brightly. She was alive.
'Who cares if a murderer saved me? He saved me, and that deserves something. The least I can give him is a second chance, and my gratitude.'
She made a mental note to thank him for everything when she got back and was about to turn around, when a voice stopped her.
"Excuse me."
It was a man's voice, hard and punishing. It reminded her of Riddick's voice, only without the gravel in it. She turned quickly and came face-to-waist with the speaker. Looking up she saw that his face matched his voice. Cold, ice blue eyes stared at her from under an anger-knotted brow. His raven black hair was very short, in a buzz cut. He was wearing jeans with a hole in the left knee, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket. Jack had never seen so many zippers and buckles in her life. Grabbing Jack's arm, the man pulled her into a nearby alleyway.
He held her against the wall, the collar of her shirt curled in one of his very large fists.
"I see you had some company when you landed on this planet," he growled down at her.
"Wha-" Jack began. He pulled her upper body away from the wall for a second and then slammed her roughly against the brick. Jack heard rather than felt her head hit the wall. Small multi-colored smudges blossomed in front of her eyes and she blinked to clear her vision.
"Don't insult my intelligence," he said to Jack. "I want you to take me to the one you were with. Richard B. Riddick."
Oh no, no, no, no! Jack screamed inside her head.
"Why do you want him?" she asked as innocently as she could. Suddenly, she was lifted off of her feet. Expecting another bash against the wall, she closed her eyes. When it didn't come, she opened them, to find herself staring into the man's eyes.
"Listen little girl," he began. Jack wondered how he knew she was a girl. Then she realized his other hand was between her legs, pressing against the wall. She was sitting on his arm, and his first hand was still clutching her collar.
"Where is he!" the man demanded. Tears sprung to Jack's eyes. She had to be brave. Opening her eyes fully and grimacing in disgust, Jack spit directly into the man's face.
Abruptly moving the arm she had been sitting on, he dropped her to the ground, still holding her collar.
"Alright you little shit, you can SHOW me where he is," he said, wiping the spit off of his face.
He dragged Jack along beside him until she had found her feet, and began walking at his speed. Passing by a store, she eyed the entrance.
"I wouldn't try it sweetie," the man said, and Jack heard a click of a hand gauge from inside of the leather jacket pocket.
Letting the muscles in her whole body relax, she flopped down on the bed. She must have slept a little because the next thing she knew Riddick was sitting on the other bed, and there was knocking at the door.
"Ridd-" Jack began.
"Shut up, kid. Don't call me that," Riddick said quietly, but with urgency. "In," Riddick called out to the door, adjusting the bandages on his leg. Jack noticed that he held a gauge.
'Must be expecting somebody,' she thought. 'Of course, he's an escaped ex-con. He's expecting the whole Company to be right behind him every second.'
The door opened, admitting Imam and another man into the room. The man was short and Jack thought, looking at his crooked back and joints, that it was as if he had been folded over himself and kept in that position for too long. He was almost completely bald, and his watery brown eyes swam like runny eggs behind thick glasses.
"Here's how it's gonna go," Riddick spoke up from the bed. "I'm gonna do the talking. That means keep your mouth shut you two, especially you kid. As for you," Riddick motioned towards the doctor with the gauge, "no questions and you get to keep your life. Understand?"
The doctor nodded, understanding perfectly well.
"All right. Get to work." Riddick rested the gun on the bed, never letting go of it.
The doctor went over to Riddick and knelt beside the bed, opening the bag that Jack hadn't seen in his hand before. He pulled out an odd looking gun-like apparatus with a screen attached to it, a few bandages, and some clear liquid. Untying the bandages on Riddick's leg, he shook his head.
"I'm going to have to cauterize it," he said to Riddick, who just nodded. Taking that as a sign of affirmation, the doctor pulled out a med pen from his bag.
"No," Riddick said, pointing the gauge at the doctor. "Put it away."
"It's just-" the doctor began.
"I don't need anesthetic," Riddick growled. "You'd be surprised at how much pain I can take. Put it away now." The doctor did as he was told.
"It's there if you need it," he said as he turned the cauterizing gun on. Pushing some buttons on the screen, he touched the gun to one end of Riddick's wound.
Jack watched all of this from near the door. Imam had sat down on the bed and was praying vehemently. She heard a hiss as the gun touched Riddick's flesh, and thought it was Riddick hissing. After a few moments however, she realized that it was just the flesh burning together. The smell eventually made its way to where Jack stood.
'Jesus, why won't he do anything?' Jack wondered. 'He just sits there, like it doesn't hurt at all.'
She stared at him for a few minutes longer. Finally, Jack saw, he clenched his jaw.
'Ah, so he IS human.'
Suddenly, the sounds and smells of the room were too much. She had to get out. She had to get away from him. Turning to Imam, she was going to tell him she was going for a walk, but decided against it. Jack was hesitant to bother him, and Riddick didn't seem to care where she went.
Opening the door carefully, Jack slipped out into the midday sun. Despite the heat, a cool breeze was blowing. She was thankful to get that burning smell out of her nose.
Jack walked quickly, reading all the signs, humming to herself. Suddenly, she paused in front of a sign. She knew it would look odd, a kid just standing there reading a sign. But that was the point. She was reading again. She was alive.
Walking again, she smiled brightly. She was alive.
'Who cares if a murderer saved me? He saved me, and that deserves something. The least I can give him is a second chance, and my gratitude.'
She made a mental note to thank him for everything when she got back and was about to turn around, when a voice stopped her.
"Excuse me."
It was a man's voice, hard and punishing. It reminded her of Riddick's voice, only without the gravel in it. She turned quickly and came face-to-waist with the speaker. Looking up she saw that his face matched his voice. Cold, ice blue eyes stared at her from under an anger-knotted brow. His raven black hair was very short, in a buzz cut. He was wearing jeans with a hole in the left knee, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket. Jack had never seen so many zippers and buckles in her life. Grabbing Jack's arm, the man pulled her into a nearby alleyway.
He held her against the wall, the collar of her shirt curled in one of his very large fists.
"I see you had some company when you landed on this planet," he growled down at her.
"Wha-" Jack began. He pulled her upper body away from the wall for a second and then slammed her roughly against the brick. Jack heard rather than felt her head hit the wall. Small multi-colored smudges blossomed in front of her eyes and she blinked to clear her vision.
"Don't insult my intelligence," he said to Jack. "I want you to take me to the one you were with. Richard B. Riddick."
Oh no, no, no, no! Jack screamed inside her head.
"Why do you want him?" she asked as innocently as she could. Suddenly, she was lifted off of her feet. Expecting another bash against the wall, she closed her eyes. When it didn't come, she opened them, to find herself staring into the man's eyes.
"Listen little girl," he began. Jack wondered how he knew she was a girl. Then she realized his other hand was between her legs, pressing against the wall. She was sitting on his arm, and his first hand was still clutching her collar.
"Where is he!" the man demanded. Tears sprung to Jack's eyes. She had to be brave. Opening her eyes fully and grimacing in disgust, Jack spit directly into the man's face.
Abruptly moving the arm she had been sitting on, he dropped her to the ground, still holding her collar.
"Alright you little shit, you can SHOW me where he is," he said, wiping the spit off of his face.
He dragged Jack along beside him until she had found her feet, and began walking at his speed. Passing by a store, she eyed the entrance.
"I wouldn't try it sweetie," the man said, and Jack heard a click of a hand gauge from inside of the leather jacket pocket.