Chapter 3
Sarge woke suddenly, popping out of bed, shiv in hand and taking a defensive stance. Riddick turned slowly, eyebrow poised as he took a sip from a mug. She sighed and fell back onto the bed, closing her eyes again as she dropped the shiv to the floor with a clatter.
"I see you found your way to and from the canteen okay," she mumbled, draping a forearm over her eyes. He only smiled. "What's on the menu today?"
"Slop." She snickered.
"Again? Hell, we had that yesterday."
"Hey, Sarge. Heard you were lookin' for me." She lifted her arm and sighed, pushing herself off the bed.
"Riddick, this is Twosy. Twosy, Riddick." They nodded at each other – that nod only men pull off well. "You got the shit?"
"Doesn't look too bad now, hon." Twosy was older than Riddick would have expected. Probably the only reason Sarge let him get away with calling her 'hon'. The man's hand shot out and grasped Sarge's chin, turning it slightly to the side. "You did a good job stitching that bad boy up." She smirked, glancing up at Riddick as Twosy inspected her handiwork. "Hell, you should work for Doc." A snicker. "Yeah, I got it. Want me to hang onto it for safe keeping?"
"No, I'll take it," she said quickly, pulling her face from his grip. He nodded and fished through hidden pockets, finally producing a small bottle of antiseptic. Riddick bit back a grin. All prison deals sounded like a drug trade, even if it was for something as innocent as a pair of socks. "Thanks, Twosy," she added, sending him a grateful smile. Twosy nodded at Riddick, his eyes asking her something, and she answered by shaking her head. Riddick's eyebrow rose. "Not yet," she said quietly.
"How long's it been?" She sighed, rubbing her forehead absentmindedly.
"Little over three weeks." Before his eyes, she weakened. Evidently Twosy was a confidante, their conversation coded because, even though Riddick was present, this cell was the safest place to talk.
"'Bout time, then, huh?" She didn't answer.
"Not now, Twosy, please," she whispered, glancing at Riddick and then Twosy before focusing on the ground again. Riddick cleared his throat.
"We done here?" he asked quietly. Twosy sighed, looking Riddick over and then nodding. He gave Sarge's arm a squeeze, and turned to leave. Sarge glanced over her shoulder at Riddick and left as well. Riddick sighed. So much drama, he thought, a sour expression spoiling his handsome face. Never ends. Doesn't matter if it's a chick inmate or not. There's always too much fuckin' drama.
He stayed in the cell for a while, working on a shiv of his own. She'd offered him one she'd barely begun, an early sign of a prison-environment bond. It was an important step, just the offer. Didn't matter whether or not he took it, or how he turned her down. The offer itself, and the fact that he considered it for a while meant they were on good terms. The lights flickered, and he glanced around, snatching up the chain and padlock, waiting.
"Sarge?" No answer. "Fuck. Sarge?" Nothing but the cries of the other inmates running to their cells. He wrapped the chain around the bars, holding it tight but refraining from locking it, just in case she was running a little late. He called out again, hearing the animals' howling echo through the prison maze.
"Hold it!" she yelled back, and he heard heavy footsteps thudding down the hallway. She came to a screeching halt in front of the door, panting. "Open," she commanded. He smirked twirling the loose end of the chain, stalling. "God damn it, Riddick, open my fucking door." Metal scraped down the hallway, and her eyes grew wide, claws clattering against the stone floor. "Now."
"You didn't say the magic word," he drawled. She froze, turning to lean against the door as the lights went out.
"Riddick?" Her voice was shaky, and she gasped as she fell backwards as the cell door opened, clanging shut so he could chain and lock it. She trembled, still sprawled on the floor, chest heaving. The lights flickered back on, and she glanced up, clambering onto her bed and balling up into a tangle of limbs, shaking her head. He watched, a bemused expression turning his lips. She was whispering something, but he couldn't tell what it was. He walked over to her bed and sat next to her, finally hearing the words she was repeating over and over. "Not today." His eyebrow rose and keys jangled, drawing his attention to the door, where a guard now stood. His face darkened, and he stood to his full height.
"Back down, convict," the guard said, drawing a tazer from his pocket. "Your side of the cell," he commanded, and Riddick complied, his eyes lingering on the small stash of shivs Sarge had hidden at the foot of her bed. Not a single one was completed yet. Fuck. "Turn. Place your hands on the wall." Another guard appeared behind the one ordering Riddick around, prompting a snarl. "Good boy. Stay." He watched over his shoulder as the second guard snatched Sarge's wrist, throwing her into the wall.
"You know how this works, Sarge," he growled, patting her down and tossing her array of weapons on the bed. "Got a collection this time." The guard watching Riddick was smart enough not to look, only ask that it be confiscated.
"Shouldn't treat women that way," Riddick gruffed, eyes flashing at the guard, who only snickered.
"Ain't a woman when she's in prison," he scoffed, Riddick shook his head, focusing on the wall. "You'll learn that with time." Sarge was chained and hoisted over a guard's shoulder, taken from the room without a fight from her. The door was slammed shut and Riddick sat on the bed, reaching out for the shiv he'd been working on. Red appeared in the hallway, pushing the door open with a creak. "Lockdown was early today," Riddick said, grinding away at the hunk of metal in his hand. Red glanced around the room, finally focusing on Riddick, who looked up slowly out from under furled eyebrows. "Want to tell me what the fuck is going on?"
"Have to ask her," Red said slowly, sitting on Sarge's bed. "No one really knows what happens." Riddick shook his head, turning his attention back to his shiv-making.
"How often does it happen?"
"Haven't figured out a pattern yet," Red answered, shaking his head slowly. "And she won't talk."
"She doesn't have to." Red looked up at him, eyebrow arched. "Twosy knows."
"Twosy knows everything."
"Ah," Riddick said, setting the shiv in progress down on the bed next to him and leaning back, folding his hands over his chest, "but she talks to him."
"Really."
"Learn to be observant and you'll see it," Riddick said with a shrug. "But don't go asking Twosy. You'll just piss her off." Red nodded.
"That's easily done."
"You know," Riddick said, cocking his head. "I think you think you understand her, don't you." Demand, not question. Red only looked at him. "You never will." The expression darkened, as did the red flush of his skin. "None of us ever will." Riddick was only stating fact – no male convict could ever understand what Sarge had been through to get to where she was in the prison hierarchy. Riddick wasn't sure she'd been completely honest about using brute force. Entirely possible, but not probable.
"Why do you care?" Red asked, voice tight. "You don't know her."
"And neither do you."
"The hell—"
"You think you do," Riddick interjected. "But you don't. She won't let you."
"So you've been here all of a day and now you think you know this place like you know Butcher Bay?" Riddick only shrugged, picking up the shiv next to him to shave down his fingernails. "You don't know shit about us. Just because you share a cell don't make you and Sarge friends."
"There's being friends and being allies, Red," Riddick said slowly, concentrating intently on his grooming. "Me and Sarge? We're allies."
"Well, we're friends." Riddick shook his head.
"Don't be stupid, Red. That'll just get you killed sooner or later." Red watched as Riddick rose, dropping the half-finished knife on the bed. Red watched him disappear down the hall and rose, heading off to find someone to occupy his time.
Slop. There was no other word for it. No one knew what was in it and no one dared to ask. Riddick played with it for a while, debating on whether he was hungry enough yet to actually consume this shit, finally deciding he was. He stared off into space, his thoughts returning grudgingly to Jack. He wouldn't be here now if he'd just swallowed his pride and listened to her. But no, he just had to go collect on that fucking debt. Gunney probably turned him in, shady bastard.
She'd been gone for hours. He'd choked down the slop and headed off to find a dark corner to shit in. Evidently this place didn't believe in bathrooms. Hell, those things they let out on lockdown were probably sewage control as much as population control. When he returned to Z 39, she still hadn't been back, even for a short visit. He had the feeling he needed to find a brew. With his new shiv now finished, he headed off to find Twosy.
Riddick tracked him down, after asking a few people, and leaned against the door to his cell, watching the older man pour over a ragged science fiction novel. The man was unflinching. Dangerous trait in a slam. Dead to the world, as long as he had his book.
"Do you have a question for me, Riddick, or are you just intrigued that a fellow prisoner is educated enough to read?" Riddick only smirked. "Care to sit?" He obliged, sitting on the bed across from the man. Twosy set the book down, leaning forward expectantly.
"I have a feeling Sarge is gonna want a pick-me-up whenever she gets back."
"She won't have the stomach for it, son." Riddick's eyebrow rose. "What do you think happens when she's taken like that?"
"I know what happens." Twosy just looked at him. "I've served under Anders before, I know what happens."
"The Sarge is Anders' neice, friend." Riddick's eyes darted around as his mind digested this bit of information. "You don't know this, understand me?" He nodded slowly, watching the man carefully as he continued. "She was sent to Butcher Bay for her crimes, and was content to stay there and serve her term. The good warden heard what happened, realized that the Sarge, whose name I will not divulge at this time for reasons you couldn't possibly understand, was actually blood, and had her transferred." Twosy leaned back in his chair, lighting a precious cigarette. "He'd not seen her in quite some time, you see, and didn't recognize her; thought he'd made a mistake. But, at that time, this prison, affectionately known as Asphyxia by those of us who live here and others who serve it, namely mercenaries, was just getting started. Being a mere year old, it was starving for inmates with which to make a name as a maximum prison. So here she remained incarcerated."
"You got a big way of saying things, old man," Riddick said with a smirk. Twosy only shrugged with a smile, taking another long drag off the cigarette.
"In any case, her identity was authenticated, and she was stolen away in the night on sporadic occasions." Riddick took a breath, but Twosy shook his head. "There is no pattern, Richard. Don't try."
"How long?"
"I was just getting ready to go pick her up." Riddick's eyebrow rose.
"Pick her up?"
"The top of the stairs. She'll be dumped, half-conscious." Twosy sighed. "I can't keep doing this, Richard." Since when did people start calling me 'Richard'? "I don't trust Red." Twosy's pale gray eyes met Riddick's shine. "And there's no one else that knows the system enough to get her out." Riddick's brows furled. "She can't stay here, Richard. She'll break, and that will be a tragic day for us all."
"I can't do anything about this, Twosy, and you know it." The old man sighed, tired eyes closing in defeat.
"You've escaped from numerous triples, Riddick."
"By myself, yes. I work alone."
"I heard about Jack," Twosy said quietly. Riddick's eyes closed, jaw tightening as he dropped his head into his hands. "I didn't know her, but she affected you." Riddick didn't respond. "You let her in, Richard. You can let Sarge in."
"I can't let anyone in," Riddick growled. A door slammed somewhere, and Twosy stood quickly, running to the door.
"We have to go now," he said quickly. "Stay in the shadows. No one will know where she was if we can get to her first.
"I'll go," Riddick said gruffly. "You stay here. No, meet us at her cell." Funny – he didn't even consider it his cell, too, yet.
"You know the way?" Riddick gave him a look. Twosy nodded and headed off toward the Z block. Riddick moved swiftly in the darkness, pausing until the passageways were clear before continuing forward. He neared the stairs and looked over his shoulder before starting up the stone stairwell, proceeding silently. She was just outside the door, crumpled in a quivering bundle of abused human. He picked her up, descending the stairs and returning to their block, watching Twosy's expression fall as he laid her down gently on the bed.
"Now what?" She was in a daze, rocking herself slowly, still trembling. Her hair was a mess, and she jumped way from Riddick's touch as he tucked a stray chunk of the dark strands behind her ear.
"Now we wait," Twosy said solemnly. "She'll snap out of it eventually, hopefully in time for showers."
"Twos?" They both looked up to see Red standing in the doorway, staring down at Sarge.
"Go, Red." He just kept looking at her, fists clenching and unclenching. "Now," Twosy repeated. "Please, just go."
"Twosy—" Twosy stood, forcing Red out into the hallway, leaving Riddick to just scowl. He heard bits of the conversation: "He can't care for her like I can, she doesn't trust you with this, what's he got that I don't, it's not like that." Blah, blah. Insecure fucker. Riddick snorted and shook his head. Twosy returned a while later.
"Can I leave you to her?" he asked quietly, glancing down at Sarge with a concerned blink.
"She'll be fine." Twosy eyed him, and then nodded.
"I won't be far." Riddick nodded. "I know a man on C block that brews. I'll bring some back, just in case. Hide it under your bed, in the corner against the walls, and it will stay cold enough to keep for a while." With that, the little man was gone. He watched over her for hours, finally chaining and locking the door, well before lockdown. She hardly moved, shifting her position only slightly when she did, trembling the entire time. He knelt down in front of her bed, resting his chin next to her arm.
"You in there?" He reached out, taking her hand in his. Her trembling increased, eyes squeezing shut. "Hey, it's me." She shook her head. "It's Riddick." A small whimper. He sighed heavily. Nothing like comforting Jack after a violent nightmare. No, this was real, unlike Jack's dreams. Jack. It was his turn to scrunch his eyes shut and squeeze her hand gently. His knees ached, but he stayed, sleep falling over him fitfully.