Chapter 6
Riddick's ears perked up when he heard her leave. She tried to be quiet about it, not to disturb him, but it didn't work. He wanted to just roll over and go back to sleep, but he couldn't. A heavy sigh, a rub of the eyes, and he gave in.
Dear Friend: I have not heard from my Jack in many weeks, and I am beginning to worry. Her email box is full, and she's not responded to anything I've sent her. A strange man answered the phone to her apartment and told me I had the wrong number. Beginning to worry is a bit of an understatement, I suppose. I do not know what to make of this.
The more I try not to worry, the more she consumes my thoughts. I pray Allah will keep her safe. I have a feeling, however, she has gone to find Mr. Riddick. After the visit from the man who reminded her so much of him, it would surprise me to find out she hasn't. I hope she is safe, in any case.
You would be interested to know that I have met someone. Ever since the death of my first wife I have been empty, more so since losing my sons, and now Jack. She understands the situation and is very supportive of me. The wedding is only a few weeks away now. She dreams of having a daughter. You always told me I couldn't be alone for a very long while, and how right you turned out to be.
My thoughts are with you, old friend. I pray your behavior is good enough to be considered for early release so that you may visit me one day. I miss our conversations.
I will write again soon, old friend. Allah be with you.
- Imam
She held her breath, waiting in the shadows as the boots passed by, finally letting it out in a quiet sigh. Where the fuck did I hide that god damn body? She shook her head and continued on.
"Looks like an inmate's work." Shit! They couldn't have found it already. She heard the radio click on and backed up until she felt the wall behind her, then casually walked away. "Call it in."
"Roger that. Lockdown on the way. Over." Fuck! Her steps picked up speed as she rounded the corner, breaking out into an all out run until she got to the Z block again, where she slowed her pace to a casual mosey. The lights flickered, and she heard Riddick groan.
"You okay?"
"Isn't it a little early for lockdown?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah, well," she said with a light shrug. "Evidence." His eyebrow rose, and she sighed, flopping onto her bed. "I was planning on digging out dude's tag and taking it to Doc to see what we could see, you know?" He nodded slightly, a slight warning in his gaze. "Found it."
"Hell." She nodded.
"So they're going to go cell to cell until they find someone who looks guilty enough to take a trip to the hole."
"So don't look guilty," he said with an evil grin. She smirked back at him.
"Wasn't plannin' on it."
"Sarge?" She sighed.
"What, Red?"
"What the fuck is going on?" he called back.
"Fuck if I know. What'd you do this time?"
"Probably found my little piss corner," he snorted. She smiled. "Serves them right for not giving us a bucket to shit in." Riddick shook his head.
"Open up." Riddick lifted his head, glaring at the guard tapping his tazer on the cell door.
"What for?" Sarge snapped, receiving only a toothy grin. "Don't tell me they canceled the fights."
"You never go anyway, Sarge," the second guard crooned. She shrugged.
"I listen." He laughed.
"Open the fucking door," the first guard commanded. She held her hands up in mock defeat and complied, finding herself smashed up against the nearest wall. "Stand up, convict," she heard him say. Riddick's bed creaked as he complied. "Now, I heard a nasty rumor, little lady, that you accepted a hit for someone."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" she asked in her most believably guiltless voice. "You really think I'd be dumb enough to do something like that? Hell, people like me here." The guard snickered.
"Your MO is too flawless, Sarge," he whispered.
"I did it." Sarge fought to turn her head over her shoulder.
"Excuse me?" the guard said slowly, turning his head as well.
"I said I did it, you steaming pile of meaningless shit," Riddick repeated. Sarge's eyes questioned him.
"Really."
"That's what I said."
"He's lying," Sarge said quickly. "He's too sick to fucking stand." The guard glanced at him. "All that shit you pump into us when we get here. Everyone gets sicker than shit. He didn't do it."
"So who did?"
"Fuck if I know," Sarge spat, glaring at the guard over her shoulder.
"Why don't we take both of you to the hole then," the guard sneered.
"Dave, we don't have the grounds—" the second guard started, but was cut off by the first.
"Like hell we don't. We don't need a reason," he added. Sarge started to say something, but the tazer jabbed into her back, and she bit her tongue. "Get them out of here." She sighed. Well, that didn't go as planned. Riddick sent her a look as the guard turned her to go out into the hallway, and she calmed down. Down the corridor, and through that dreaded door with a splash. She turned to see Riddick pushed through the door as well, falling the five feet to the bottom of the pit. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Nice going," she said quietly. He shrugged. "You're gonna get pneumonia." He made a face, telling her he didn't think so. She backed up into a corner.
"I take it you've done this before." She nodded slowly, biting back another shiver. Her clothes clung to her body, and he couldn't help but look her over. "You gonna be okay?"
"I'll make it," she stammered through chattering teeth. "I'm more worried about you." He only grunted, and she watched him for a while, his eyes searching for a place to get out of the water. There was none. "Why?" she asked, voice shaking.
"Why what?" He didn't even act like the water affected him in the least. She blinked a few times, and he nodded. "Figured I'd take the fall so you could do your yoga thing during the fights." She snorted, shaking her head, a smile slowly spreading across her face, but it fell with another violent shiver. "Water yoga?" She shook her head harder, a chilled laugh escaping.
"Kinda hard to do the inverted poses without drowning." He cocked his head, granting the logic.
"Why does he let them throw you down here?" Her eyebrow rose.
"Why does who?"
"Anders." Her eyes fell, focusing on the ripples in the water above her waist. She didn't say anything so he continued. "I mean, if you're the only woman here, which you are, and he uses you for his toy, which he does, I would think he'd try to keep you in one piece."
"It's not about being a toy," she muttered. He waited. "It's about power." He waited some more. "It's about submission. I've never been submissive, and this is his way of getting even."
"For what?"
"For not being the daughter he never had."
"Daughter." It sounded like a statement, but he was really asking.
"Anders couldn't reproduce. Figured he'd just treat his nieces like daughters and be okay. But I wasn't the poster child for a warden's neice, so he couldn't treat me like a daughter." She shrugged. Or shivered. Could have been either. "So he thought he would teach me what compliance is supposed to be."
"And you didn't fight back."
"Oh, I did for a while," she said with a small smile, meeting his eyes for just a moment. "I fought hard for a while." She cringed. "And then I realized they wouldn't hit me as hard if I didn't fight." A small shrug, as though it made perfect sense. "So I stopped fighting."
"You gave in," Riddick corrected. She glared up at him, eyes suddenly angry.
"I never gave in," she snapped. "You think I wanted this? You think I want to be raped by my uncle, not knowing when it's coming, and now knowing if there are going to be repercussions that might get me killed because I'm to pregnant to fucking run from someone?" The angrier she got, the harder she shook. "You know what they do to pregnant women in predominantly male prisons, Riddick?" He sighed.
"Calm down," he commanded gently. She was wasting energy needed to keep her warm.
"No, I won't calm down," she yelled, trudging through the water toward him, her movements slowed by the pressure of the water around them. "How the fuck am I supposed to calm down, huh? There's not a God damn thing I can do about this, and you're standing there, all knowing, all powerful, telling me to fucking calm down? Fuck you!" Her fists balled up and swung, but he caught her arms, pulling her against him, unsure if her trembling was because she was so pissed or so cold. She fought against his hold, beating her fists into his chest as the tears surfaced, finally giving in to the embrace with a loud sob. His arms went around her as her knees gave out, and he held her up, held her against him, and suddenly the water wasn't so cold anymore with the shared body heat. "You don't know how hard it was to keep myself from slitting my throat with my own fucking shiv just so he couldn't win anymore," she whispered between gasping sobs. His brow furled and he looked down at her, her face red, tears flowing freely, eyes scrunched shut. He sighed heavily and picked her up, walking both of them to a corner.
He couldn't feel his toes. The shivers went unnoticed now, so constant it seemed almost normal. His fingernail beds were blue, and his abs were starting to ache from trembling so hard. She'd been asleep for hours now, still shivering against him, teeth chattering audibly. He popped his neck, and the water started to recede.
"Thank God," he muttered, closing his eyes. As soon as the water was gone, he slid to the floor, positioning her in a fetal-esque position between his knees, still cradled against his chest. Every now and then, little whimpers would escape her, and she'd shudder forcefully. He pulled her closer, clearing the wet, clinging strands of hair from her face.
He'd doze off once in a while, wakened by another violent quake from the small woman against him. A sigh would pierce the air, and he'd watch her again. High cheekbones, fair skin, fine features. A smirk. Cute nose. He shook his head, running his hand through her hair, coming to rest on a cold, clammy cheek. She shuddered again, and he pressed his lips to her forehead. Talk about cruel and unusual punishment. Even as the water dried from their clothes, the trembling continued. Hours passed, naps interrupted by trembling, thoughts slowed by the biting cold. Finally, a clang as the door opened. Riddick's head turned slowly as a ramp into the pit was lowered.
"Time's up," the guard said, motioning for them to leave the room. Riddick glanced down at Sarge, still asleep, and he shook her. No response, save a stronger quiver. He sighed, picking her up. It would have been an easy task, had his muscles not been so overworked from the constant shivering. He towered over the guard, pausing to glare menacingly down at him, but was shoved through the door and down the hallway.
Once inside the small cell, he laid Sarge down on her bed and chained the door, turning back to watch her. Probably be faster warming up if we combine body heat again, he thought, watching her trembling reach the near convulsing stage. He sighed as he pulled his boots off, and then hers, before grabbing the blankets from his bed. She whimpered as he shifted her under the covers and arranged the blanket around her, finally crawling in against the wall and scooting below the blankets, once again pulling her against his chest. Slowly, they shook each other into a fitful sleep.