One need not be a chamber to be haunted. - Emily Dickinson

"FRY!"

Carolyn just barely heard the shop owner's call through her mufflers. She looked up from the plate she was welding on some beat-up rust bucket of a ship, pushing her face mask up, & pulled her ear protectors off.

"What's up?" She asked Grif. The bearded man with dreadlocks gestured over one massive shoulder with his thumb.

"Man asking for you out front. Says it's important," Grif said. She nodded, & started to hang her welding gun up on its stand. She jumped when Grif put a hand on her shoulder. "Be careful. Looks like a merc to me."

Carolyn's eyes widened, & she couldn't stop a shudder from passing through her. A merc stopping in to get their ship fixed: routine. A merc, specifically asking to speak to her? Most likely trouble. On Lupus 5, there were three rules for dealing with mercs: fix their ships, stay out of their way, & never walk home alone at night. A memory of her last encounter with mercs played back through her head . . . Stumbling through the corridors of the Kublai Khan, clinging onto Imam's shoulder as he helped her walk . . . The roar of the monster that crazy bitch had unleashed on them . . . Laughing, jeering voices--"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" . . . "You can't hide forever!" . . .

Grif squeezed her shoulder. "Could be wrong. Just be careful." Carolyn nodded, even managed a faint "Thanks" as she moved towards the front of the hanger. It was always well-lit, even in the daytime. It was the first thing she had noticed when she answered the "Help Wanted" ad, five years ago. No shadows in the corner, no way for any monsters to lurk around, waiting. Grif hadn't even asked her name, just pushed her towards an engine. "Fix it, & the job is yours," he grunted. Lucky for her, it was a stripped-down version of a merchant vessel's engine. It took her 3 days to clean it out, replace the wiring, & install new power cells, but at the end, Grif nodded, & said "You're hired." It had gotten her away from the cryo trips & that was all she asked now.

The man was leaning against the front counter when she walked through the hanger door. He turned around & their eyes met. He had close-cropped brown hair, & a healthy amount of stubble. She couldn't shake the feeling that they had met before, yet at the same time, she was sure they hadn't. She pulled off her gloves & tucked them into her pocket, offering her hand.

"Grif said you wanted to talk to me?" His grip was firm, his hand calloused.

"Yes, I've been trying to track you down for a while, Carolyn." His eyes pinned her in place, & she felt the urge to turn around & walk right back through the hanger door.

"And you are--?"

"I go by Boss Johns."

A roaring sound filled her ears, & her knees turned into rubber. Instinctively she reached for the wall, her lungs working like a bad set of bellows. Black spots started to threaten her vision. Dimly she realized Boss Johns had taken hold of her elbow, helping her stay upright.

"I'm guessing you know why I want to talk to you," he said mildly. Carolyn concentrated on inhaling, holding it briefly, then exhaling. She shook his hand off & stumbled towards the window that connected the front room of the hanger to the bar next door. Grif's partner ran it, & his only rule was not to drink on shift. He seldom enforced it. Carolyn slumped onto one of the stools, holding onto the counter.

"A drink will definitely make this easier," Boss Johns said, taking the stool next to her. Two shots of moonshine, followed by two glasses of beer, appeared in front of them like a magic trick. She reached for her shot & threw it back, the alcohol feeling like a spike straight down her throat.

"New Oslo Shipping Corp. Look at the records. It's all there," she finally managed to say. "I told them everything I know." She gestured for another shot. Grif had come into the front room as well, taking a seat in the waiting area & filling out some forms. Their eyes met; she could see the question in his--"All good?"--& she gave a slight nod.

"I did, but I still have some questions," Boss Johns replied. "It didn't quite add up."

"Was he your brother?" Carolyn asked, toying with her shot glass. He didn't look old enough to be anything else, but extended cryosleep could explain the age discrepancy.

"My son," Boss Johns replied. Carolyn flinched, throwing back her second shot. "Your story to New Oslo was that you, my son, an imam, & a stowaway made it off the planet into the shipping lanes after the crash on M6-117. You got to Helion Prime & reported the incident to the corporation."

"Yeah. That's what happened," she said, finally meeting his gaze.

"Riddick. You told them he died somewhere on that planet." His brown eyes bored into her, & she fought to stay calm. She took a sip of her beer, feeling drunk already.

"Yeah, I told them that," she said, not offering anything else.

"You hear about that new bounty posted on Riddick? Corovan's offering 500k for him." Boss Johns threw back his shot. "Awful lot of money for a 'dead' convict. As for my son . . . If Will made it off that planet, then why haven't I heard from him? Why hasn't he picked up any bounties since then?"

"They won't believe you, not for long. So here's your story, when they start poking holes in it." "Because Johns died down there. We made it to the skif after. The Kublai Khan picked us up, but we had to get away from them pretty quick, took one of their ships. Then Riddick held a knife to my neck for 14 hours straight while I piloted that scrap heap." She tilted her chin up, letting him see the faint scar on her jawline. "He said he'd find me & make me wish I was dead if I ever said anything different on the record."

"Hmm." Boss Johns took a drink of his beer. "Sounds like Riddick." The silence stretched out. Slowly, slowly, her heart rate started to go back to normal. She unclenched her fist, vaguely surprised at the red crescents in her palm from her nails. "I just have one other question for you then, Carolyn." He pulled out a communication tablet, tapped on it a couple of times, then showed her the screen. "This was taken on Helion Prime, three weeks after the incident report was closed. Can you tell me anything more about this?"

The picture was grainy. Based off the angle, a security drone must've caught it. Riddick's hood had slipped back just enough to show part of his face. His arms around her, her head leaning into his shoulder. Boss Johns flicked at the screen, the next shot showing Riddick's lips pressed against her cheek. She took a long drink from her beer.

"She looks like me, I'll give you that," Carolyn said, trying to deflect. She measured the distance between her stool & the door, wondering if she could throw one of the glasses in his face & make a run for it. Maybe Grif could slow Boss Johns down, he was no fan of mercs either.

"She does. If you're wondering, that's from the main Helion Prime hanger. Six weeks out from the Hunter-Gratzner crash," Boss Johns said. She could tell that he was all coiled muscle now, ready to spring if she made the wrong move or said the wrong thing. "Curious, that you were spotted with him there, if he was threatening your life a month earlier. No reports from you on him at that time either. That could be argued as aiding & abetting the escape of a convicted killer." The silence spun out again, Carolyn feeling like a mouse with a snake hovering above, waiting to strike.

"What do you want?" she finally asked.

"What happened to my son? The truth this time, please."


"Il-Imam, slow down, just a little more space," Carolyn said, holding Jack back with one arm. Riddick & Johns were up ahead, she could hear them talking but couldn't quite make out the words. Imam drew slightly ahead of them, placing himself between them & the two men up ahead. Bloodthirsty creatures screeching & wailing all around them, but they looked more dangerous. Carolyn's heart started to pound. If they were plotting together to leave the rest of them here in the dark, a nice meal to distract the creatures while they got the hell out of Dodge--

Riddick & Johns, circling around each other, weapons out, gunshots--"RUN!" She yanked at Jack's arm, hauling her along, holding her light up as high as she could. Imam & Sulei running with them, holding up their lights as well--Any direction, forgetting about the skiff ahead, as long as it was behind the shots & growls behind them--

--Running directly into Riddick, gasping & cringing back--"Where's Johns?" She couldn't remember who asked that, but Riddick's reply was burned into her memory--

"Which half?"

Then, to Jack, as she whimpered, "Don't you cry for Johns. Don't you dare."


Carolyn drank the last dregs out of her beer. "That's all I know. Didn't see anything else. Wouldn't have been able to, with the eclipse . . ." She leaned her head against the counter, feeling the mud in her boots again, the creatures' blood on her skin, the acid burps of fear in her throat . . . "I didn't ask him what triggered the fight, & he wouldn't say." She steeled herself for the next question, making her face a blank page, the alcohol steadying her.

"Where is he now?"

She looked directly into Boss Johns's eyes, unwavering. "I don't know. Isn't that your job?" They held eye contact, & Carolyn fought the urge to look away first. Finally he looked over to one of the bartenders & signaled for a water. He pushed it over in front of Carolyn when it arrived. She took a sip & nearly choked at his next words.

"Almost had me there. Almost. Did you know you clench your right fist when you lie?" She forced her hand to open again.

"Don't know what you're talking about . . ." She took another sip of water, keeping her eyes on Boss Johns, every nerve cell on a hair-trigger.

"You probably know of quite a few planets off the ghost lanes, where it would be easy for someone to disappear. Planets no one sane would think of going to, but where you can survive, just barely. Out of most comm ranges. You had 21 years using those lanes, needing to know enough about the routes to make an emergency landing." Carolyn shook her head, unable to reply.

"Maybe you think you owe him. I visited M6-117 myself a couple years back, briefly looked underground. Can't imagine what it was like during the eclipse. Easy to just focus on surviving, no matter the means, when there's monsters in the dark." In spite of herself, she nodded. "Once you're back out in the light though . . . Can you really justify protecting a mass murderer?" Carolyn took her time in answering.

"We all would've died down there if it wasn't for him. A life for a life," she said. She leaned her chin on her right hand, taking care to keep it open, & took another drink of water. "I really don't know where he is."

"And if you did, you wouldn't tell me."

"Moot point. I don't know. That picture you've got is the last time I saw him. He's not on Helion Prime, that's all I know," she replied. Their eyes met again, & she had a sudden vision of him removing the top of her skull with a scalpel, digging into it for all her secrets. He looked away & signaled the bartender again, paying for the tab. He slid a card over the counter to Carolyn.

"My contact info, if there's anything you think of. And keep this in mind." His eyes bored into hers again. "I might be the first merc to put the puzzle pieces together, but I won't be the last. Probably won't be long before there's a warrant out for you as well, like I said, aiding & abetting. If he's still out there, killing, that's blood on your hands too."

Boss Johns turned & walked out of the shop door. Carolyn let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. It sounded like a sob. She jumped when she heard Grif's voice at her right side.

"Giving you half a day today. Go upstairs & sleep it off in my office."

"Thanks," she whispered, getting to her feet. She didn't remember walking upstairs, just suddenly she was sitting on the couch, shrugging out of her boiler suit. Grif set a pitcher of water on the coffee table.

"If you puke, try to aim for the trash can," he said. On his way back downstairs, he paused at the door. "Was he trouble?"

"I don't know," Carolyn said, shaking her head. But I might be. She curled up on her side, the shakes starting again. When she finally fell asleep, her dreams were filled with inhuman screeches, & silver eyes that slipped in & out of shadows . . .

Author's Note: Not sure where this may go yet. Originally it was just a one-shot, & I thought it would be fun to toy around with a couple of "What-ifs?", namely what if Fry didn't die, & what if Boss Johns got into the narrative earlier than movie number three. Anyway, there may be more chapters to come, go ahead & hit that Follow button & you'll know as soon as I post!