Chapter Three
Dirt swirls around her boot-encased feet as she steps off the ship and onto Greenleaf. Contrary to its name, the planet is barren, dusty and flat with miles of scorching sun.
Kyra's eyes shift watchfully as she hoists a bag over her shoulder.
"Be ready for next time, Jack."
The words are burned into her brain. She can't escape from them any more than she can stop breathing.
She heads towards the station shop, intent on finding some food. Strands of her dark blonde hair tangle across her face as a hot wind stirs the air. She sneezes, a sharp noise, when the dust tickles her nose.
As she nears the building, she spots Jason and Anise talking to the control center looking agitated. Neither of them had said anything about problems on the ship, which means they are hiding it from her. More than two months may have passed, but the tension is as fresh as if it was yesterday that they were on the frozen ice cube of a planet.
Can't stay on with a crew without trust, she thinks, a sad realization dawning on her.
Fuck.
But maybe, she ponders, it's for the best. If she wants to stay hidden, she has to ditch the crew sooner or later. And sooner seems safer. Sooner means she can stay two steps ahead.
The doors slide open and she wanders in, eyeing her choices. Grabbing sandwich and filling her water, Kyra loops back around to the register.
Placing the items down, the computer beeps twice, and she takes out her card and swipes it, ringing up the purchase.
Without bothering to turn around, Kyra mumbles, "Hey."
Anise moves so she is walking in stride with her. "Listen, we're staying for a couple of days."
"That's cool," Kyra replies, taking a mouthful of her sandwich. She glances over at her, taking in her skintight pants and low cut tank-top. Three tiny circular bruises dot her neck.
It takes her a few seconds to register Anise's flushed cheeks and barely concealed grin.
"Jason or Zeke?" Kyra asks bluntly.
The blush deepens. "Jason."
Rolling her eyes, Kyra tries to look unaffected and unsurprised. "I have to pick up a few things in town. When're we scheduled to take off?" She's careful to say 'we' instead of 'you'.
"Exactly 53 hours," Anise replies promptly, her blush fading away.
Kyra nods slowly. "You guys staying on-ship?"
"Yeah," Anise answers, almost quiet. "Zeke's staying with some friends. What about you?"
Shrugging, Kyra tosses her wrapper in a bin. "Might find a place. Take a breather."
"Okay," Anise looks relieved, tension in her shoulders slacking. "I'll see you back on the ship. Remember, 53 hours." She points her finger at her, a mock scolding.
"Got it," Kyra replies, nodding. "Later." She waits until Anise is out of sight before circling back to the main station.
Staring up at the lists, she is instantly frustrated with nothing is leaving today. "What the fuck?" She asks no one, frowning. It's too late in the day to expect many more incoming ships, which means she has to find lodging for the night.
Running a hand through her disheveled hair, Kyra sighs. She needs either a discreet place or a crowded one. A place no one will think of looking for her.
She readjusts her bag, and heads out the door into the town. It's fairly small and plain, but a planet like this has underground places. After all, it's nearing 30 Celsius and it's the middle of winter.
Kyra stops along the way at a water station and refills her canteen, eyeing the manager.
"You know a good place to stay?" she asks the girl.
With a puzzled look and a long silence, the girl answers, "Yes. La Casa Rosa."
"Where is it?" Kyra asks. She caps her bottle, waiting for the reply.
"Down the road. On the right," the girl tells her after a moment. Her lips are pursed in frustration or annoyance.
"Thanks," Kyra says with a jerk of her head. Swigging from the canteen, she follows the directions to a worn but cared-for building. It actually looks more like a box of dusty mud, but someone has taken the time to add decorative touches and a nice wooden door.
Kyra pushes the door open and is greeted with pleasantly cooler air. Her overheated skin soaks up the cold as she walks to the front desk.
"A room, please. One night," she asks with the nicest smile she can muster.
"Name?" the man asks in a monotone voice.
"Jacqueline Thibodoux," she replies, a bitter taste lingering in her mouth as she says the words. It's the only name she hates more than 'Jack', but no one will look for her under that name.
She hands him her old card, idly wondering how much money is on it. Her foot taps, a rapid tattoo, and the man gives her a pointed look.
Forcibly stopping her foot, Kyra shoots him another half-hearted smile that only curls one side of her lips.
"Here's your key. Room 5." The man hands her a slim plastic card with an etching of a rose on it.
Taking it, Kyra follows a long hallway to a metal door with a small slit where a handle would be. She slides the card in. It pops out a half a second later with a faint beep, and the door swings open.
Dropping her bag at the foot of the queen-sized bed, Kyra examines the Spartan room. It has the basic necessities, and that pleases her. She never was one for overdone luxuries. Another door reveals a simple but clean bathroom.
Kyra is suddenly aware of her dirt and sweat streaked skin, her gnarly hair and her dirty clothes. Stripping the offending garments off, she turns the water on, entering her desired temperature.
After a couple of seconds, she steps under the tepid flow of water. Tilting her head back, she scrubs at her hair with the hotel shampoo and conditioner until it feels like silk under her fingers.
Then she uses the soap to scrub off the traces of grease and dirt coating her skin. With her face angled to the spray of water, she lets it sluice over her, trying to wash away her tension.
She finally opens her eyes, and turns the water off. Goosebumps tickle her skin, and she grabs one of the towels hanging nearby. Its material is a synthetic mixture made for wicking away water.
She towel dries her hair and wraps it around her body before exiting the bathroom. In her bag she manages to find a large shirt she doesn't remember buying. Something falls and taps her toe, and she glances down to see a small chip.
Picking it up, Kyra recognizes the hacker chip that Zeke gave her a while back. It basically left her tracks untraceable in a database, a useful tool when hacking into government files.
Spotting the computer, Kyra wonders what has changed in two months. She has only been out of cyro-sleep for less than a week, and it suddenly occurs to her that he could have gotten a lot closer to finding her than she knows.
She slides the chip in and quickly finds herself in her old ship's database. The encryption is easy to bypass since she did help Zeke put it together, and she reads the latest jobs. It takes only a moment to spot his name.
Only this time the payment is near five million. Her brow creases, and she tries to find any recent information. His last known location is only a couple weeks from here, she realizes. Her heart beat picks up as a new insight forms in her mind.
He's coming for her, she can feel it.
According to the report, he's already racked up two more killings—both mercs.
That's how he survives, she thinks as she clicks out of the screen. He kills mercs so he can have his freedom.
And she's just another merc he's gotta ghost.
(A/N: Let me know what you think! And don't worry Riddick'll be back soon. By the way, 30C is about 86F )