Beastly Bonds

Chapter II

Meth moaned, gripping her hand tighter. Jack cursed. She knew he could only be safely moved when the cats were called back, but she had no idea when that would happen. Jack kept her eyes trained on the scene before her, pressing her hand harder against Meth's wound, stopping the blood flow somewhat sufficiently. The bite marks were clear and if he survived this, would be able to show scar marks of escape.

"C'mon, c'mon, get called! Feeding time has got to be over!" Jack harshly whispered, feeling somewhat relieved to see the cat slinking away for other prey and the alpha remaining, eating what was left of the inmate as far as Jack could tell. As if her prayers were heard, the alarm rang again and the alpha finished its prey, the bone crunching easily in the death vice grip of its jaw. When it turned to leave, Jack caught direct eye contact with it and suddenly felt a flare of trust. With a respectful nod, Jack picked Meth up and left the area, swearing never to be outside remotely near feeding time anymore.

But with more important things on her mind, Jack shouted for any medical help available as she swiftly made her way to Tipner's cell. Inmates moved quickly out of her path, looking at Meth who was paling in her arms. She saw with relief that Krent and Litman had unlocked the cell and stood waiting for her. Barging in, she found Tipner alert and ready, the crude metal table he had been given by the crew of Crematoria cleared and maybe even somewhat clean. In times of emergency like this, most everyone went to Tipner, who could usually stitch them up.

As she deposited the body onto the table she glanced up see a miner, dusted protective goggles dangling around his neck. With a short explanation, he gave them a box of medical supplies. Close to useless, but better than nothing he had insisted and Jack thanked him with future promises of something. Turning back, she found Tipner had already ripped away the cloth around the bite wound. Some deeper than others, it was clear that something huge and hungry had taken a snap at him. As Meth moaned, Jack laid a comforting hand on his forehead and smoothed back his hair caked with dirt and sweat.

"How the fuck are you going to clean the wound?" Jack asked, seeing that it could easily get infected if not cleaned. With a knowing glance, Tipner moved quickly to the back of his cell that no one saw, but rumors spread that he had a storage a real food and supplies there. Jack found him returning with dampened clothes and by the smell, damp with rubbing alcohol. This was going to hurt and Jack knew it. He had cleaned her up a few times and sometimes with slashes as deep as these. Meth smelled it too, seeing how he tried to become part of the table, pushing back into it as hard as he could.

"No…please…" his faint voice carried to her ears and she gripped his hand.

"You can do this, Meth, this is gonna hurt like a motherfucker but you survive this and life in this hellhole will be a piece of cake. Hold on." She encouraged him and was rewarded with a weak smile. Yet this was erased and quickly replaced by a yell of blinding pain and suffering. Jack held him down until the pain subsided and by then Tipner was already stitching up the deeper wounds. The breaths that had come in gasps now evened out into normal breathing with small hitches and Meth was beginning to fall asleep.

"Kyra…" Litman warned, seeing the boy fall asleep.

"Keep him awake." She ordered, moving down to help Tipner close the wounds. Jack barely heard the words of hope that Litman was using the keep Meth awake but somehow she heard the same roar of the alpha she had encountered just minutes before. Shaking it from her head, she stitched up the last wound, pulling it closed with practiced ease. Tipner disappeared into his cave again and came out with clean strips of cloth, certainly not bandages, but it would do. By the time he and Jack had finished bandaging Meth, Litman had kept him awake long enough and Tipner gave him the ok to let the boy sleep. Almost instantly did Meth fall asleep on the table, his blood dried on the scarred and twisted metal.

"Oy, Tipner?" Litman asked, eyeing the now sleeping boy.

"Yes?"

"Where did you get that table anyway?"

"The crew of Crematoria gave it to me." He answered.

"Beg yer pardon, but they don't shit to no one." Krent interrupted, stepping into the cave to look over Meth.

"Ah, but they do. In my old age they saw I had survived countless 'meal times' and in my earlier days, even killed off a few inmates who were 'pesky' to them. So, they 'rewarded' me with this table. Sickening, really." Tipner concluded, watching his patient move slightly in his sleep. "It would be wise for one of you to keep watch over him."

"I'll take first watch." Litman said.

"Second." Krent stated. It was left unsaid but Kyra took third, so with deep thanks to Tipner, she left his cell and went up to her outcropping, hoping to find some sort of rest and think over her scene with the alpha. Just as she turned to do so, she glanced down to see the inmate that was hung was now gone and a ravaged skeleton lay beneath it, twisted into grisly positions. Jack had no wish to move it, so she left it for the miners and continued her way up the steep rock.

Finally reaching her cliff, she pulled herself up onto it and found it blissfully empty. She never knew if someone else would make it up here, nor did she ever want to find someone else in her spot anyway. With a grunt she fell back down into a seated position then pulled herself out so she was laying on her stomach, looking over the cliff. She had the perfect view of Crematoria from here and even a partial view (if she was on her back) of the crew's quarters. God how she hated their guts and souls, but she knew escape was impossible. Well, perhaps with Riddick but he would have enough sense to keep himself out of the slam.

Jack allowed herself to think back to that scene with the cats. Surely she wasn't about to respected and accepted into their pride or pack, but she was further along than anyone else. Either way, Jack was determined to find a way to thank the alpha, whether it be through food or something else. As she continued to think on this, her eyes drifted across the prison cells and each scene within. For being in prison it seemed that each had their own agenda, whether it be survival or just the will to live. Jack stopped when she saw an unfamiliar shadow between two rock walls. Watching it carefully she saw this shadow was a man and one with a weapon. Not just a metal bar or self-made shiv, but a gun. The crew had access to Crematoria, but they never used it. Unless they were after her or another attractive inmate. Being the sick bastards they were, they often went for young boys, like Meth. Luckily Meth had been hidden safely away each time they went prowling for a fuck. Jack had always managed to escape in the end but she didn't dwell on the idea long of the one day she wouldn't be able to. Her thoughts back to the shadow, she saw it was disappearing deeper into the hidden crevice. She needed rest at the moment and decided she would investigate it later. Sitting up, she pulled herself back to the furthest wall in and with her legs crossed, she leaned against the smooth part of the rock and let her eyes close. Never asleep, but still resting.

Jack awoke to the dinner alarm and eased herself out of her rock and looked down. There was the usual unexcited rush for food and she jumped down to the closest ramp, which was a good thirty foot drop. Walking only a few steps from the rock, where the ramp ended, she stopped in front of Tipner's cell. Litman looked up at her appearance and moved away from his spot where he was keeping a constant eye on Meth, who was still deeply sleeping.

"You want to get me some semi-edible shit and I'll watch?" Jack offered, knowing that Tipner was farther back in the cave, probably sleeping.

"You know how they feel about extra portions." Litman replied, sarcasm dripping in his voice.

"Right, you can do it, take Krent with you." Jack replied, touching one of Meth's hand, finding it to be at a normal body temperature. Relieved at this, Jack looked up to see Litman was still at the door.

"Get your ass moving, Litman." She snarled, angered at his sudden lack of movement.

"Uh…Kyra, I don't think anyone's gonna be going for shit." He said, his eyes obviously focused on the ground below. Concern flashed in her eyes as she joined him, taking in the scene that was being played out far below her.

One of the crew members had found the remains of the inmate they had just put in last night. He was standing next to what seemed to be a merc, but she wasn't sure. At closer inspection, it seemed to be a sort of government official, a low down one at that. There was a heated argument over the pile of the bones, with some muscle and tendon still attached. It seemed from what Jack and Litman could hear, the government worker accused the crew of not doing their job. It was clear that the rest of the prisoners had ganged up against this inmate and had been the real murderer behind this. If they were ganging up, they could throw some sort of revolution and Crematoria could be overthrown. Jack snorted at this. This man was obviously blind. Start a revolution? Break free of Crematoria? Bullshit. She felt the need to go down and correct him.

Moments later she approached the still arguing pair. They didn't seem to want to stop at her appearance and she cleared her throat once or twice. At this point, it seemed that the crew needed to inspire more fear into the prisoners, so they would be less likely to organize to revolt.

"Hey. Shut up." Jack said, knowing she wouldn't be heard. "I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!" She shouted, jabbing her elbow into the government worker's stomach. She didn't need to know what 'more fear' would end up being, it was bad enough already.

"And who do you think you are?" The worker asked, rubbing his stomach. Jack narrowed her eyes and kept her hands fisted. She was dealing with a softie.

"Just another one of those prisoners." She replied, glaring at him. The crew member seemed content to radio his comrades and tell them that things could be sorted out without trouble. He stepped away and into the shadows, not noticed by the worker but easily seen by Jack. It was clear that the 'prisoners' were now allowed to do whatever they wanted with this worker.

"Well, leave, you aren't needed here." He stated, trying to sound so much more important then he actually was.

"I think I am. And what is this bullshit about us organizing to revolt?" She asked, a glare brilliantly shining from her hazel eyes.

"I don't know, but it does sound stupid." Litman appeared behind her, brandishing a length of rope that was already made into the hangman's noose. This clearly disconcerted the man who began to back up, only to trip and fall over the pile of bones he had just been arguing about minutes before.

"I can explain…" he started, only to silence himself after a few others appeared behind her. In his mind's eye, he saw a captain of a pirate ship, fearless and commanding with the crew's complete trust. But the smell of decaying flesh brought him back to present and he looked up to see a rather large crowd had gathered themselves, watching on.

"I'm sure you could, had you a ready army at your back. But it seems all you have is the rock. Alright, Litman, you've got control of this one. I want all valuable objects brought to me where I'll sort them out. Are we clear?" Jack ordered, ignoring the man's pleas that bounced off her, barely getting past her immediate train of thought.

"You'll get…" he started to yell, suddenly quieting.

"Thrown into slam? Looks like we beat you to it." Litman joked, also amused at the situation this man was in. "Well, looks like the kitties won't be goin' hungry again, eh Kyra?"

A bark of a laugh emitted from Jack as she thought of those creatures as kittens. She was only partially aware that many in Crematoria thought her to be sadistic by nature and possibly clinically insane. Her movement, her strange sense of dark humor and just her being wasn't one to mess with. Tipner had pointed this out many times and was also amused by her gallows humor, if not slightly wary of it. Her jokes of death had often become real in this hellhole, so it was hard whether to know to laugh or not when she spoke of such things. With a sigh she thought back to the alpha who had shown her particular kindness. Plans were slowly forming in her mind as she walked away, the frightened yells from the government official barely registering. She was about to start up another ramp when that crevice she was watching earlier caught her eye.

Slowly she looked around and all the inmates seemed occupied with the soon-to-be-cat-food man or their own meals. Looking up she counted all the crew members to be present in their main room, looking down and laughing at the man's plight. Relieved, she slipped back and into the crevice, which turned out to be a pathway leading deeper into the rocky being of Crematoria. Taking one final glance behind her, Jack unsheathed her blade and keeping it in a light, yet still useable grip, she moved forward, her treads making no sound against the sandy floor. Jack noticed that the cats had never been here, there were no paw prints or scrapes against the rock. So this was a human passage, one for the crew. Jack looked up to see the two walls of the pathway merge together, making it even more difficult to escape if something where to happen. Pushing on, she finally came upon a door, maybe after five minutes of slow and steady walking. Tapping the metal lightly, she was shocked to find it was a weak and maybe even thin metal. Certainly the kind an indestructible steel claw could tear through. Mind whirring with the possibilities, Jack pressed her ear against the door and faintly heard the jeers of the crew. So this had a direct way to that main room. Suddenly the noise grew and she turned, sprinting to the entrance way which she quickly reached and swung herself around the wall of rock that was the opening. Perched above the entrance on the steep slope, she wasted no time in scaling the rock. Nor did she need to turn around to see part of the crew had come down to observe what the inmates had decided to do with the government official.