Darkness, Be My Friend
Chapter Eight : As Luck Would Have It
Two days was what it took for the skiff to get out past the sleeper lane that the Hunter-Gratzner had been following; another two and it'd reach the Sol-Track where, hopefully, they'd get picked up. There wasn't anything to do besides stare out the window in silence or listen to the sounds of the control panel's near silent hum, a sound that wouldn't change until they hit the shipping lanes so there was no point in constantly watching the screens. Riddick stared at Jack's sleeping form on the floor, he himself sitting with his back against the pilot's chair, occupying his time by crafting a shiv out of the remnants of one of the fruit cans.
She had woken up only twice in the past forty-eight hours, the first time was just after he'd finished pulling the skiff out of range of the dark planet's gravity; she'd spoken with him and sounded as if she would be alright then. But the second time she awoke she was sweating with fever, staying focused only long enough to take two gulps of water before falling back into a restless doze; her eyes were moving quickly beneath the lids and every once in a while her arms would twitch in reaction to something inside her dream world. Her face was very pale, but her pulse was still relatively strong; it wouldn't remain that way for long if she didn't wake up and eat something.
It made him angry at himself for going back after more supplies, even though the blankets had turned out to be useful; the kid had saved his life and now she was going to die for it. And still there was that dark half of his mind telling him that it was better that way, better for her to die now so that she wouldn't be a problem in the future. It kept reminding him of his last mistake, the one that had gotten him caught and shoved into the locked-down cryo-locker in the first place; missing the sweet spot, failing to kill Johns, it was disgraceful. But the merc was dead now anyways, no sense in dwelling in the past yet still the voice of instinct kept bringing it up; he argued with it, she was just a kid, he never hurt kids.
Oh, he'd killed plenty of people before, some for his own survival and some just because they got on his last nerve, the latter of which he enjoyed; but there were other kills, the ones the media and the mercs never let the public know of, afraid that the bounty would fall if the masses knew that two thirds of the murders under his belt were justified. There were other things the public would never know about him, all locked away in the Company files under security that even the most skilled and daring of hackers shied away from; no one besides himself and the corrupted fuckheads that had run the operations on Sigma 3 knew that Riddick's first kills had been three full years after he'd been thrown in prison on a false charge. Altair had been a bitch to get out of, being of a unique nature among prisons; it was during his time there that he first started to listen to the darker side of his mind.
Jack twitched, biting her lip in her sleep and kicking her feet slightly in response to something only she could see; her face contorted into a frown and her one visible hand curled itself into the edge of the blanket, fisting a small handful of the fabric. She was having a nightmare, Riddick could smell that fearful aura start to well up from her small frame; she twisted to the side and let out a pained grunt, the blanket entangling itself around her legs. She went still for one long moment and he wondered what she was dreaming of, what nightmare could possibly be plaguing her twelve-year-old psyche.
What does a run away fear most? Definitely not the streets...what was she running away from that she'd risk it all just to get away?
"Not going to," she murmured, her voice little more than a whisper, breaking the silence and his thoughts. Riddick set the shiv he'd been working on aside and raised himself up into a crouch, edging closer to look down into the girl's face; her frown had deepened into nearly a grimace, her eyes still closed and racing beneath the thin skin of her eyelids. She still looked feverish, but when he went to feel her forehead to confirm it she reacted in the subconscious, swinging her fist hand up to knock his hand away. "Not-no! Stop it!"
Jack swung her fist again, but he caught it and held her arm down to her side, scowling to himself; his first guess at her dreams was a no go, the creatures may be fuel for random nightmares in the future, but they hadn't left as dangerous an impression on her mind. Her eyes fluttered for a second then slowly opened, flicking back and forth rapidly, her breath quickening in panic as if she didn't know where she was; then she saw him staring at her and confusion replaced the frown on her face. Then the recognition flashed in her eyes not a second later, and the panic receded; evidently there was no reason for him to be a part of her nightmare.
"You okay in there, kid?" he asked, releasing her arm. She looked at him, a slightly perplexed look flashing across her face; she hadn't realized he'd been holding her arm down until he'd let it go. "You punch in your sleep. Talk too."
"Um," Jack said, biting her lip. "Sorry."
"What'd I say about apologizing for shit that's not your fault?" Riddick asked with a slight growl, giving her a look.
She smiled faintly, absently rubbing the side of her face with the palm of her unfisted hand; she glanced around the skiff, blinking a few times before looking back at him. He had turned down the lights in the skiff to the second to last setting, more to conserve power than for his comfort; he had kept his goggles off since they had left the planet but evidently Jack was a little unsettled about the lack of light. She wasn't going to tell him that though, and for that he felt some respect for the girl; she'd rather face her fear than voice it out loud, it was a tomboyish reaction but a good one.
Still wonder about that nightmare...
"Where are we?" she asked, breaking the silence. Her eyes were drooping again and she let out a yawn, the effort of talking evidently draining her energy. Riddick didn't answer, instead he reached over under the seat and pulled out a can of fruit, apricots, before grabbing the shiv he'd been working on to pry out the lid.
"Here kid, you should eat," he told her, holding out the can. She reached to take it, but it became evident the moment her hand closed around it that she wouldn't be able to hold it steady; the fever had weakened her so she would more than likely drop it. Sighing, he leaned over and lifted her up off the floor with one hand, helping her bring the can up to her mouth with the other; she took in three gulps of the stuff before trying to push the can away. "Come on kid, you got to eat more than that."
"Not hungry anymore," she muttered, turning her head away.
Setting the can aside, he felt her forehead; it was burning beneath his hand and he let out a low growl, her fever was spiking again. He laid her back down on he floor and pulled out one of the water containers she'd packed onto the skiff; he tore a part of the blanket and soaked it in some of the water before putting it on the kid's forehead. She was asleep again, muttering incoherent things under her breath; Riddick sat back, closing his own eyes while his hands subconsciously closed themselves into fists.
She's going to die...and there's not a damn thing I can do about it...
That's when something within the comm unit on the control panel began to beep.
The last thing Jack saw in her dreams before she woke up again was a row of white marble grave stones stretching as far as the horizon; ; her eyes came open to a dim room just as that image faded and the first thing she realized was that she wasn't lying on the metal floor of the skiff anymore. Beneath her was a cot with a thin mattress and she was tucked within the sheets with her head on a pillow nearly as thin as the mattress; as her eyes adjusted as much as they could to the darkness she saw that she was in a small room, the only way in and out being a door on the opposite wall. The room smelled faintly like medicine, bringing up memories of a hospital even though the only one she'd ever been to was back when she was three and had broken her arm trying to climb a tree after her brother.
She frowned at the memory, because it was her brother's fault she'd fallen out of the tree anyways; he'd kicked her down when he'd seen how far she'd climbed up after him.
He never liked me much...
Jack took in a deep breath and pushed the sheets off of her chest, finding that her top clothes were still missing; she spotted a chair in the corner and there they were, folded and dry. She frowned, wondering what had happened to the skiff and, more importantly, what had happened to Riddick.
Did we get picked up?
She felt achy as she sat up and more than a little dizzy, but there wasn't as much pain as there had been when she'd first woken up back on the skiff. Gingerly feeling the side that had felt burned before, she let her fingers trail over the injury, counting eleven stitches in her side; she bit her lip and stood up, a wave of dizziness almost making her fall back on the bed again. She managed to stay upright, however, and after a moment she padded carefully across the floor to the chair and picked up her shirt. The side of it was ripped right near where her injury was and she stared at it for a moment before pulling it over her head; she pulled on her pants as well, but couldn't find her shoes.
Dressed, she moved towards the door, sliding it open taking more effort than usual as she was still a little weak; her stomach rumbled and she realized that she was very hungry. The hall was dark too, darker than her room anyways; she peered out into it, unable to see anything beyond a few feet though she got the impression that the corridor was at least five meters long.
"Riddick?" she asked the empty air. She didn't dare try and call out to see if the lights were voice activated, instead she stepped away from the door, keeping one hand touching the wall; in this way she inched slowly down the hall. "Riddick?"
"You can turn on the lights, kid," came his response, the low rumble of his voice somewhere right behind her. Jack jumped and spun around, startled, her heart suddenly beating against her rib cage like a jackhammer. Her eyes locked on his silver gaze for a moment, the only thing clearly seen in the darkness of the hall; but his glowing eyes disappeared after a only a few seconds. "Lights on."
The corridor lights blinked on in an instant and Jack was slightly surprised that she didn't have to squint for her eyes to adjust, the lights were still lower than normal; even so, Riddick had donned his goggles once more.
"Feeling better kid?"
"Yes," Jack answered, still staring at him. "Did we get picked up?"
"Sort of," Riddick replied, tilting his head slightly. Jack wondered what he meant by that, but her stomach rumbled again right then, reminding her that it really needed food; he seemed to hear it as well, a hint of a smirk on his face. "Hungry?"
"Yeah," Jack responded and he stepped past her down the hall. She fell in step behind him, glancing up and down the corridor at this new setting. The walls were bare metal as was the floor and there were six doors, two on each side of the hall, one at the very far end and the one through which Riddick led her; this one opened up into the front of the ship which included not only the cockpit but a small galley with a table and couch opposite. Jack wasn't an expert on ships, but this one seemed to be relatively big and noticeably empty; there was no one sitting in the cockpit but even with her limited knowledge she knew that most ships came with an autopilot system. "Um, where's the crew?"
"In the skiff," Riddick replied, yanking open the door of the galley's small refrigerator. Jack stared at him, trying to figure out just what that meant; she frowned and he looked up, staring back at her, waiting to see what she would say.
"So," she started, biting her lip. "Where's the skiff?"
"Drifting back near the Sol-Track shipping lanes," he answered, pulling out something from the fridge and tossing it on the counter; it appeared to be a package of re-sealable lunch-meat.
And what exactly does that mean? Did he kill them?
Jack felt herself shiver at that thought; she bit her lip and stared at the lunch meat, which looked to be something along the lines of pastrami. After a moment she glanced up at Riddick; he was still rummaging in the fridge, looking for something else to eat she supposed.
"You going to eat that or are you just going to stand there staring at it?"
She picked up the package, glancing at the date but not opening it; Riddick stepped away from the fridge, letting the door fall shut of its own accord. He started to open one of the nearby cupboards but stopped upon seeing that she hadn't even opened the package yet.
"What's wrong, kid?"
"Did you kill them?" Jack asked, blurting out her question without thinking. She quickly bit her lip again, wanting to look away but not daring to take her eyes off Riddick's face; he didn't look mad but then again he didn't look happy either.
"Don't do that," he growled and Jack blinked in surprise, unsure of what he meant.
"Don't do what?" she asked, slightly perplexed.
"Don't bite your lip," he clarified, turning back to the cupboard. "You'll make it bleed again."
Jack looked down at the lunch meat and ripped the plastic packaging open, absently running a finger over her bottom lip; she could feel a cut there, just barely healing over. It wasn't something she'd consciously noticed before, as was the case with many a bad habit, but now that it had been pointed out it felt more than a little bit strange. She pulled out two pieces of the stuff and shoved them in her mouth, barely chewing before swallowing; she was about to eat some more when Riddick's voice cut back to her ears.
"No."
"What?" she asked, looking up at him; he had his back to her, still looking through the cabinets.
"I didn't kill them," Riddick clarified, glancing over his shoulder at her.
Jack stared at him for one long moment, then nodded her head; accepting it as truth, after all, he hadn't lied to her before, what reason would he have to now?
The ship was an older model twin engine bulk transport with one large basement cargo bay and the bare minimum of crew space for its size; still, it was better than could be hoped for given the circumstances. There had been just one problem with the scenario; the only kind of people who still ran these kind of out of date transports were clean smugglers, the kind who've kept their track records so scrambled that the authorities would never catch them. Crews like that were apt to take up side jobs for the Merc Guild, so Riddick had been tempted to just ignore them and wait until the Sol-Track was closer to put out the distress signal.
But the ship had spotted the skiff anyways, so he'd pulled out the audio comms and thrown on the emergency beacon along with a type-code signal to indicate the voice-over unit was broken. The ploy had been bought and the idiots had towed the skiff in; more than likely they probably resorted to junking when things went low or got too dangerous in the smuggling circuit. It was relatively easy to knock out the crew and lock them up in the skiff; he hadn't launched it back out into space until he'd made sure the girl was going to be alright. One of the cabins had been converted into a small med-station; that had been eight hours previous and in the time since he'd explored the ship in its entirety as well as reprogrammed the light settings to his specifications.
It's my ship now.
Jack had woken up and, after eating the entire contents of a previously unopened package of pastrami, hadn't spoken a single word. Either she hadn't believed him about not killing the crew or she couldn't figure out anything to say or ask; both options were likely, but Riddick found himself hoping the former wasn't true. It was unsettling to say the least, the first time he'd ever tried to discern what someone else would think of his killings; but then again, why should it bother the kid. She already knew just who and what he was, hell, she risked her life to save his for some reason he couldn't fathom; and again, why the hell should she care about some people who she didn't even know?
She was watching him, he could feel her eyes on the back of his neck as he sat in the pilot's chair, waiting for the main computer to finish cycling the nav charts so he could changed the ship's identification and registration. Riddick threw a glance over his shoulder at her, then nodded at the co-pilot's seat; she blinked in surprise, then scrambled over, climbing into the chair and flashing him a smile.
So, she did believe me then...
"You know anything about computers, kid?" Riddick asked, tapping the side of the computer screen. "I mean besides accessing the newsnet and all that crap they teach you in school."
"Not really," Jack answered, her tone blatantly honest.
"Didn't think so," he said, watching the screen switch back from the nav system back into the graphic interface of the normal computer software.
He could see Jack's eyes gazing at the screen now with a different kind of hunger than before; she wanted to learn. There in lay the dilemma, because that voice in the back of his head was now saying that he should leave her at the first stop and teaching her anything was like saying she could tag along. It would be like saying he accepted the fact that she could someday be an equal, but there was no way they'd ever be equal; she was some run away kid and he was, well, a killer. And he had no doubt that she would want to follow him like a second shadow; which begged the question, was she less than a little sane or was her life before really bad enough to trust an escaped convict over common sense?
Frowning to himself, he pulled up the ship's registration files and keyed in a small code window so he could access the program codes. They scrolled before him on the screen and he cast a glance to the side to see that Jack was observing it all with unwavering fascination. It took only a little longer than twenty minutes to rewrite the ship's access and registration codes, he'd done it at least a dozen times before; when it came to naming the ship, however, he decided to turn to the kid.
"Needs a name."
She looked a little shocked that he was asking her, but her smile widened; how the hell could anyone mistake her for a boy with that smile?
"A name," she echoed, looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling. She stayed silent for a long time, almost long enough for him to think that maybe she wasn't going to say anything else; but then she looked back over at him, still smiling. "How about Twilight?"
"Twilight?" Riddick repeated, mulling it over. Jack's smile faded slightly and he guessed that she was afraid that he wouldn't like it; in truth he thought it was more than a good name for a ship. "Yeah, that'll work."
He programmed the name into the system, watching the girl perk up at the fact that he was accepting the name she'd picked; the simplest thing seemed to make her day. According to the nav charts it was would be a month before the ship got anywhere near civilized space and as far as company went, well, he could get used to that smile.