Chapter 3: The Underverse

Riddick awoke with a start and jumped to his feet. The blood rushed from his head, causing him to sway and almost fall. He was standing alone in the dark by what appeared to be the wreckage of the flag ship, Necropolis. There was nothing else around him as far as the eye could see. Honestly he was surprised he was still alive. He knew the risk he was taking traveling to the Underverse, but he also knew that risks were a part of life. Every day was a battle for survival, if you lived through the day you won. Riddick had long ago accepted that he might not always win.

After looking around and making sure he was safe, for now, he fell to his knees and retched. The wreck must have banged him up good, he thought, trying to focus his mind through the pain that racked his whole body. "Well, nothing seems to be broken." He thought, testing his joints and limbs. He pushed himself to his feet, holding onto a piece of ship that was lying nearby for balance.

Slowly, Riddick began to search the wreckage and the surrounding area. There was no one, not one body. "Fuck," he thought, "in a wreck like that there was bound to be casualties." A distant sound like thunder attracted his attention. Glancing over his shoulder toward the sound he saw far to the South a slight infrared glow. "Survivors?" He thought, and, making sure he still had his goggles on his forehead, he began to walk cautiously across the empty, dark field.

As he drew closer he realized that the glow he saw was not from survivors, but of four recently killed corpses. On closer inspection he found that the wounds these bodies had were not from the wreck, but from energy rifles favored by the Necros. Quickly he glanced around, in the distance he saw what looked like buildings, possibly the outskirts of a city. He straightened up, cracked his neck, and began walking toward the buildings.

The dark structures towered above him. They were more ruins than actual buildings and they seemed to be built along the same grotesque lines Necropolis had been. A tall wall covered in images of tortured faces surrounded the entire city. Tall statues of dying, agonized humans lined the streets, and scattered rubble made walking difficult. Riddick continued stoically on, searching for some sign of life.

Eventually the sky began to turn grey as the sun rose. Riddick decided to find a place to rest throughout the day, he noticed a doorway that was not completely filled with debris and headed toward it. Once inside he laid himself down and tried to get some sleep.

Riddick jerked awake after another nightmare, gasping Kyra's name. It was dark again and oppressively quiet. Too quiet. Riddick pulled out his knife and made his way toward the door. He could smell fear in the air.

FLASH!

Screams erupted out in the street and the sound of running filled the air. The flash of the energy bomb had nearly blinded him. He jerked away and as soon as the stars faded from his eyes he pulled down his goggles and looked out into the street. He could see people running, tripping and stumbling through the ruins in the dark.

Stepping quickly out the door and pressing flat against the wall, he moved toward the corner of the building where the flash seemed to have originated from. Glancing around the corner he saw a large group of men with energy guns marching down the cracked street. They were shooting at anything that moved. The panic of the running people was so intense Riddick could feel it palpable in the air.

Suddenly a young boy ran around the corner and bumped into Riddick. He fell, sprawled onto his back screaming. Riddick quickly put his knife away and grabbed the boy, clasping his hand over the boy's mouth. Moving back toward the door he just came from and pulling the boy with him, he whispered, "Don't make a sound."

The boy must have realized that if Riddick wanted him to be dead he would have been by now, because he stopped fighting and nodded against Riddick's hand.

Stepping into the building where he had spent the daylight hours, Riddick removed his hand from the boy's mouth. Looking down at the kid he asked, "What is your name?"

For a moment the boy looked too terrified to speak, but then he whispered, "Jack."

Hearing that name, Riddick felt as though he had been punched in the gut. "Okay, Jack" he said, "what is going on here?"

"The battle came into town." Jack answered shakily. "They have been fighting on the South side of the city for a couple of days; we don't know who they are yet or what they want this time."

"'This time'?" Riddick asked.

"Yeah. There is always a battle going on somewhere. Momma and I ran when we heard them coming." Jack answered looking at Riddick with some confusion at his apparent lack of knowledge.

"Where is your mom?"

"I don't know! We were running to my Aunt's basement when there was a bomb and I couldn't see her anymore." The boy began to cry softly.

Listening to the horror and blasts outside their building and knowing that whoever it was that was attacking the city would be searching all the abandoned buildings, Riddick squatted down in front of the little boy. "Could you find the way to your Aunt's house by yourself?" Jack nodded. "Show me." He said softly.

The boy grabbed Riddick's hand and headed toward the door. Riddick pulled him back with a jerk, and put Jack behind him as he glanced out the door. The main group of soldiers seemed to have passed, and all Riddick could see were people slowly coming out of hiding and searching for loved ones who had become separated in the mad dash for cover. He let Jack come out from behind him.

Jack quickly grabbed Riddick's hand again and began to dart from debris to debris. As the boy led the way, Riddick kept glancing around in the dark looking for anyone who may pose a threat. All around him he saw bodies and those left behind; a woman kneeling over her dead child, a man crying over his wife. "It was a massacre." He thought. "Who did this?" Anger began building inside him at the callousness of the people who had unfeelingly killed women and children.

Suddenly Riddick jerked Jack to a stop and pulled him behind a fallen statue. The movement was so quick that the boy let out a startled yelp. Telling Jack to stay there, Riddick looked out around the end of the statue. The man he had seen had stopped at the sound of Jack's yell, and was cautiously making his way over to the statue, gun unslung. Riddick pulled out his two knives, and with every muscle taught he waited.

The soldier slowly edged around the base of the statue, he was sure he had heard someone yell…Then the empty space in front of him was filled with a big, black shape. He didn't have much time to process this when he felt as if a hot brand had landed across his stomach. Dropping the gun and gasping, he grasped at his belly. With a slightly surprised look on his face he slowly tipped over backward, disemboweled.

Wiping the blood off his blade on the man's pants, Riddick turned and sheathed his knives. He walked back to Jack, who was huddled whimpering where he had left him. Riddick squatted down by Jack. "Hey, it's okay now. Are you ready to go?"

Jack looked at Riddick for a moment then nodded. "'kay."

Riddick helped him stand up and watched as the boy stubbornly wiped away his tears. He couldn't help but admire the kid's grit. It reminded him of someone else.

"Let's go." Riddick said.