Thanks for the reviews so far guys. :) Poor Riddick.
Chapter 3
Riddick smiled as the raven took flight, gliding with the wind and disappearing into the trees beyond the field. It looked so strange through his goggles, and again he wished he had his old eyes back again. It's not everyday you see something as glorious as a raven in mid-flight.
He heard Jack stumble over something and curse. He turned to see if she was okay but Imam got to her first, helping her back up carefully. He had to laugh, watching Jack struggle with the majority of the baggage.
Shouldn't have called me gorilla then he thought as she nearly tipped over again. She shot ice at him with her eyes as she caught herself. Riddick grinned smugly back.
Before facing the edge of the clearing again, his gaze landed on the angry black clouds moving sluggishly toward them. It looked mean, and Riddick didn't want to be caught out here in the middle of a field to get soaked when it arrived, so he took one of the five bags from Jack and pulled her along. Imam fought to keep up with Riddick's pace as he hurried in the direction of shelter.
There. That's perfect. Riddick spotted a small path and rushed towards it, already feeling the spittle from the storm strike his arms and the top of his head. Refreshing, but he didn't want to get sick. That would make things a little too ridiculous. To be waited on by Imam and Jack as he sneezed... No way.
As the group got closer to the shelter of the forest, Riddick picked up the familiar scent of death. He slowed down, letting Jack recover her balance and Imam catch up with them. Imam huffed a bit but appeared okay, but his nose wrinkled, as he too smelled the air.
"Probably a dead animal." Riddick thought aloud as the other two stopped in their tracks. "Nothing to worry about."
Something inside him told him different. A twinge in his gut, much like the feeling last night when he was going to pee in the bushes. Someone was watching.
It's just a deer or a raccoon or a squirrel, quit being so paranoid.
He kept his eyes peeled for movement anyway, though that was difficult with the now stronger gusts of wind. The storm snuck up on them and the rain started to pour suddenly and heavily. Jack squealed a little and started running to the trees. Riddick fought the urge to grab her arm and yank her back, feeling panic rise in his chest again.
There's something in the trees he thought irrationally, chasing after her. He lost sight of her soon as he crashed through the dense bush. He heard Imam calling after her behind him.
Under the cover of the forest now, Riddick felt claustrophobic. The foliage was thick and the air felt electric, heavy. In his rush to find Jack he didn't look where he was going and got slapped in the face by a waving tree branch. He swore at the sting of it and picked a leaf out of his goggles. I'm not going to find her if I'm panicking.
He stopped for a minute and waited for Imam to catch up with him. No sense in losing everyone out here. "Jack!" He yelled, hoping she'd hear him and come back. Imam caught up, frowning at the burrs stuck to his robes.
When there was no reply from Jack, Riddick got angry. "Fucking kid." He mumbled, stomping through the bush. This was the last thing he needed, a lost kid along with the storm and the creepy feeling in his gut.
He noticed the smell of rot getting stronger the further in they went. He heard Imam cough behind him.
"There she is, Mr. Riddick." Imam pointed at the top of Jack's head, barely visible through the leaves. She wasn't moving.
"Jack!" he called again.
Nothing.
He stepped closer and grabbed her arm, meaning to turn her around and give her shit. Then he saw the terror in her eyes, wide and filling with tears, and stopped his words. Imam froze, mumbled a prayer and shut his eyes.
What the fuck? Riddick looked up from them and saw what had frightened Jack and disgusted Imam.
He'd seen his share of rotten corpses and these ones weren't the worst, but still... if it wasn't for his experience he would have ran off into the bushes and puked. It didn't help that the storm raged and highlighted the blood with every flash of lightning. Made a rather gruesome scene.
No wonder poor Jack freaked out.
He looked like he had been there for only a short time. The degree of decay wasn't bad enough for him to have been dead for more than maybe two days. His eyes were missing, Riddick noticed the rain pooling in the sockets. His stomach was sliced open, looked like what probably killed him. His legs and feet had been gnawed at by scavengers; bits of his pant leg were spread out around him.
He turned from the one in the tree and looked at the others. There were two wolves, a male and a female from the looks of it. Both had bullet holes.
The other two corpses were human, two men, both cut up pretty bad. Hunters.
"Mr. Riddick, we should leave this place." Imam said, holding the crying Jack in his arms.
"Hold on." He waved him off, kneeling down to take a closer look. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. It was obvious a human left this carnage, a wolf or bear wouldn't lash a hunter to a tree. The elaborate way he was displayed indicated a warning.
That's one hell of a Keep Out sign.
No sooner had that thought crossed his mind, he felt that instinctual gut wrench again. That presence, the same one from last night. He knew it. They were being watched again.
"Imam, get her out of here." Riddick instructed, rising to his feet and releasing the shiv from his waistband.
Drops of rain spattered on his goggles, obscuring his vision as his eyes roamed the area, searching for the threat. He knew it was there, he felt the telltale tingling on the back of his neck.
The storm raged on above them, blocking the sun with thick black clouds, darkening the world. But not enough Riddick complained inwardly. It was still much too bright for him to remove his goggles, but too dark for him to see anything clearly. His other senses sharpened to compensate for his lack of vision. He listened carefully for a sign, smelled the now heavy air for a strange scent, but there was nothing but Jack's screaming protests as Imam pulled her away, and the fresh odor of the rain.
Soon it was just Riddick and the deceased. He was getting cold, the rain soaking through his torn shirt and chilling him to the bone. He shivered as he walked around, peeking behind bushes and leaping behind trees, hoping to find whoever or whatever was spying on him.
Visions of those flying alien creatures flashed through his memory, bringing with them an abnormal jolt of fear. He could almost feel the claws digging into his thigh and slashing his chest open, virtually heard their birdlike piercing cries. Nothing. Nothing but the downpour and the dead. Riddick began to feel a little silly. Those things worked your nerves a little more than you thought, old boy.
Despite that, he kept the cold steel blade firmly planted in his palm and listened. All was silent other than the wind-blown leaves and the pattering drops. You're losing it! He was facing a particularly thick tree trunk, directly opposite the crucified hunter. Feeling like a jittery old fool he loosened his tense muscles and put the shiv back in his pants, took a deep breath to relax himself and banish the visions. There's nothing here, you got spooked, you're tired and you haven't eaten in two days. Calm down.
Riddick chuckled at himself, wiping at the water on his goggles with the back of a shaking hand. He turned and looked at the strung up hunter, thinking of poor Jack. Better find them, girl's going to have nightmares for a week.
His boot splashed in the now muddy terrain as he started forward, intending to find his companions and seek shelter until the storm wore itself out.
But then he heard the slightest intake of breath.
His hand moved to release the shiv again but he was too slow, it didn't make it. Something heavy hit his hand as it touched the hilt, and he watched the silver glint of the blade as it flew out and away, landed seven feet away and disappeared in the blood puddle at the dead hunter's leg stumps.
Riddick barely registered this before a hard object was suddenly pressed against his throat. He felt his breathe cut off as his attacker pulled him backwards. In the slick mud he lost his footing and slipped, falling hard onto his tailbone. The water quickly dampened his pants and his sight wavered.
Riddick, panicked, reached up and grabbed what was jammed against his neck, a large wooden staff from the feel of it, and he struggled to get it away from him and regain some air. It wouldn't budge; his attacker held it firm, pulled upward but kept it at his throat. Riddick felt his muscles lose strength and black spots appeared in his vision as he began to lose consciousness.
Without warning, the choking stopped, the object removed. Confused, his arms dropped to the mud. He was about to get up to confront this thing, ferociously growling at his enemy, but a fist rammed into his lip and split it wide open. Riddick was dazed for a moment, couldn't do a thing as his attacker ripped the goggles from his head. He struck out with a fist but hit nothing, Shit!
He flipped himself over onto his stomach and tasted dirt as it splashed into his gaping mouth. He squeezed his burning eyes shut and coughed to recover his breath.
He reached forward, hoping to feel the hardened plastic of his goggles, raking his fingers through the mud. He heard footsteps splashing away from his prone form and he almost felt helpless. Thirty seconds and I've been reduced to this.
Alone, blind and weak from the sudden assault, Riddick raised himself to all fours and risked opening his eyes for a half second to get his bearings.
Okay, the dead guy's behind me, and that's where my shiv is.
A new goal in his head he crawled the other way, shutting his eyes but listening for another attack. He wanted almost to call for help, but he also didn't want to put Jack and Imam in danger.
Jack!
Riddick almost dropped back into the mud, realizing whoever had attacked him could easily be doing the same or worse to her at this very moment. It wanted me weakened before going after her, that's why it let me go.
He moved faster, ignoring the mud in his eyes, hunting for his shiv in the puddle he was kneeling in, visualizing Jack's blue eyes full of terror.
"Aha!" His hand landed on the sharp steel and he gripped it tight, triumph surging through him. He held it up in the air, roaring at this small victory. With glee he got to his feet, knew which direction Imam took her and started running.
He only got a couple of feet when something large slammed into him from behind, a joyous whoop sounded as he bounced off of another tree. He felt his nose crack at impact and he lost his balance and ended up on his back in the mud again.
In complete frustration he yelled at his nemesis, sweeping his weapon blindly about in the vain hope of slicing into something meaty. He used his other hand to check the status of his mashed nose. Broken.
Goddamn it, not again.
Riddick hated being made to feel weak and incapable, and whoever was doing this to him was going to regret it once he was back on his feet.
Riddick sat up, still waving the shiv around uselessly. He heard a growled inhuman laughter behind him and, determined to do some damage, Riddick flung himself back and swiped out, hitting his target.
"Ha!" He opened his eyes again, in spite of the searing pain. He wanted to see his attacker, to grin at it before he ripped it apart with his bare hands.
The victorious feeling disappeared when he saw what he cut.
The dead hunter's leg.
"Fuck!"
To your right, it's coming again!
He prepared himself for another assault, tensed up, focused all his strength on the hand-held shiv. He kept his eyes open, barely made out the form as it barreled toward him with lightning speed. It was a human form, that's all he knew for sure. He could see two legs and two arms; the rest was just a blur of light.
He stopped moving just out of arm's reach. Riddick wished the fog would disappear from his sight, that he could have a few seconds to bring his arm around to cut him open.
The two of them kept still, studying each other, waiting for the other to make the next move. Riddick noticed the large blade his adversary held, knew it was for him, knew he was going to die if he didn't do something quick.
Well, He thought with a grin, I'm not going out without doing some damage.
The form didn't move as Riddick got to his feet slowly, enduring the pain in his eyes and the scraping bones of his nose. He tasted blood on his lips and knew it was his.
The enemy waited patiently for him, remaining where he was, not gutting him where he stood like he expected. He was toying with him; Riddick knew it, and that made him angry.
When he was ready, he called him on, ready for the next round and brandishing his knife. Other than the initial shock of the two attacks and the broken nose, Riddick felt fine, the taste of his own blood spurred him on, and he boiled with rage. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he looked for an opening.
They began to circle each other in the rain, and Riddick knew that one way or the other, he wasn't walking away from this confrontation without blood on his hands. He grinned at the thought, saw his opening, and jumped.