AN: Ahh, another belated installment of ANT. Granted, all my installments tend to be rather belated...sorry. Anyway, I know it's been a while, but I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Pitch Black or anything connected to it. The only one I own is Lera. Though I certainly wouldn't mind borrowing Riddick for a while. The question is...would I give him back? Heh heh heh.
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Pitch Black: A New Twist
Unwelcome Surprises
Moving as silently as a shadow, Riddick crept along just below the ridgeline, paralleling the exploration group that had set out from the crash site. He had been following them for a good hour now and as yet all they had found on this little excursion was dust, dirt, and rocks. He supposed he could have stayed and watched the crash site and the few that had remained, in fact it might have been wiser to do so. After all, he would have more of a chance to get at whatever supplies were there with the numbers so decreased. There were three things that had made the decision for him.
The first and foremost was water. He knew there wasn't any water at the crash, just the hydro pills of Lera's, and she was with this group. He planned to stay close to the only ready source there was because he knew that as time passed hydration would become more and more necessary. Especially with the revelation of this world's third sun. Fucking planet. He had been planning on there being a night. Night was where he thrived, where he lived, where he didn't have to hide his eyes away. It was where he was the one eyed man in the land of the blind. It would have been easy to raid the party at night when they were weak and he was strong. He wouldn't have had to worry about finding a source of water, he could have just taken theirs. But with this perpetual day things had changed.
The second reason was apparently taking point in the group. William Johns...merc, devil, and down right thorn in Riddick's side. He couldn't afford to let the man out of his sights for too long without having to worry about the bastard sneaking up his ass. Johns may not be the brightest star in the sky, but he was relentless and fucking ruthless. There was no telling just what lengths he'd go to in order to get Riddick back, and frankly, he had enough on his conscience.
The last reason was perhaps the simplest and really the deciding factor. He was bored. Bored as all fucking hell. Richard B. Riddick had never done well with being bored. It was one of the things that had gotten him in trouble. A bored Riddick is a disgruntled Riddick. And a disgruntled Riddick didn't tend to make anyone happy. He liked to be doing something, anything, not just sitting around on his ass in the sand waiting for something to happen. If he was going to be doing that there had damn well better be some scantily clad women frolicking in some water near by.
He watched the group with mild interest as they made their way through the gulley below. They were a strange mix, that was for sure. Johns was taking the lead, strutting along like a big, bad hunter man. Riddick snorted. While even Riddick had to admit the man had some skills, for the most part Johns was a fucking joke. Guy thought he was a big bad, a tough ass bastard that could rumble with the big boys. But the fact of the matter was that he had never really seen the big boys. Mostly he brought in broke-back cons. The big boys would crush Johns into jelly and eat him on toast.
That was probably what bothered him the most about Johns, just how stuck on himself he was. The man didn't ever think 'bout nothing but himself and what he wanted. Didn't give a fuck about what he had to do to get it, either. Something stood in his way, he took it out. Riddick knew that Johns hadn't been the only merc on his neck…nor was he insanely surprised when the others had, well, disappeared. If he'd had more brains, the guy could have been a mogul in the business world, he was that ruthless. If he didn't have the fake badge to hide behind, he would have been Slammed long ago for the shit he pulled.
Riddick had to admit that there was a small part of him that vaguely admired Johns' tenacity. The rest of him generally had to fight of a metaphorical gag. The fact of the matter was, as nasty as Riddick could be himself, the universe would be a lot better place without someone like Johns in it. Maybe he'd just have to do the universe a favor.
Riddick's eyes started drifting to the other members of the exploration party, taking them in and examining them for later use. One thing he'd learned, it was always better to know what you were up against.
The pilot was there, of course. Now her he could deal with. Carolyn Fry. She was a little thing, and definitely not hard to look at, but he was betting that when backed into a corner she could be fucking fierce. It was obvious she kept herself in shape, but if you spent any amount of your life flitting around space you sure as hell better be. Most cargo crews were decent enough in a fight…at least a bar fight. They were kind of a rough and tumble bunch of spacers, though generally harmless for the most part. Still, wasn't a one of them that hadn't spent time in the dock-bars and the questionable society inside.
Something told him, though, that she never went there alone. There was something kinda jumpy about her. Maybe it was the crash, maybe she was just a little skittish by nature, but she didn't seem to be the strongest of the lot. The others seemed to be following her, sure, but the way she held herself, the slight inward hunch of her shoulders…this was a woman with insecurities. Riddick let a grin steal over his features. Insecurities he could work with.
The Arabs were there too. Not shocking. Of the lot of them, they were the most likely to actually find water in a desert. He was a little surprised that the Holy Man had brought his four boys with him, but then again, chances were they knew just as much about finding water as he did. Besides, what kind of Shepard would he be if he wasn't tending his flock? Holy Men weren't ever hard to figure out, but they could be a damned nuisance. Always tellin' you to repent, mend your ways and shit. His ways kept him alive, only thing that needed mending was the getting caught part. That he could do without.
It was the last member of the group that really caught his attention. Bringing up the rear was another woman. She wasn't the free settler, wasn't dressed right. Her clothes were so dark, they had to be black, and seemed simple enough in design. No leather or tool belt or any of that shit Free Settlers tended to carry with them everywhere. Instead, she wore a tight tank-top that showed just what a tasty body was beneath it. Her pants seemed to be cargos of some sort and her boots were definitely made for rough treatment. It was strange, though, even though they were probably the most appropriate clothes of the lot for this kind of shit, they looked nice enough not to draw attention no matter whether she was wandering in a desert or walkin' around a city. And she was carrying a pack on her back that seemed made to move with her, definitely appropriate for this kind of thing. Huh, it almost seemed like she had come prepared to be here.
She was tall, probably a couple inches shy of his own six-two, she had medium length curly hair she kept pulled up in a high pony tail. He couldn't tell regular colors ever since he got the shine job, but he'd managed to figure a good portion of what was what by taking what he knew before and how they appeared to him now. He was guessing her hair was red from the way it showed through the shine, and her skin was obviously pale. Couldn't see her eyes cause of the distance, but then again, with the dark, wrap-around shades she was wearing he wouldn't have been able to anyway. Funny, she was the only one besides himself that was doing anything to protect her eyes from the light. Maybe she was just the only one that had shades with her, but at least she was smart enough to use them. Even though it wasn't much of a question for him anymore, he knew that over-long exposure to light could do unhappy things to eyes.
Lera Chase. It had to be her, there really wasn't another option. He focused most of his attention on her now that he had the chance, keeping the others more on the periphery of his focus. The notion of the woman had bothered him since he'd caught her scent in the ship. It had been a surprise, and Riddick wan not fond of surprises. She'd confused him further in the cargo hold but he hadn't exactly been able to do any kind of examination while bound and blindfolded. Now…he almost wished he couldn't.
Not good. That was really what it came down to. The first clue was the way she moved. First there had been the silent feet in the cargo hold. Now…there was a grace to her movements that he could only associate with two types of people—dancers and killers. Not just your average, blustering, I'm-tough-shit kind of killer, either, but one that actually knew what they were doing. It was it the quiet way she moved, how she held herself, the way her feet failed to make noise as she walked over the packed sand and gravel. There was a danger about it that was subtle and ambiguous, making it impossible to determine what kind of threat she might pose…if she posed any at all. After all, dancers do that too.
Somehow, he wasn't buying the whole dancing thing.
What really crashed the notion of the prima ballerina was the fact that she wasn't just walking, she was aware. While Johns was oh-so-obviously sweeping the surrounding area in an effort it looked more appropriate in some kind of Vid-show, Chase was doing the same thing and not being obvious about it. As she walked her head drifted ever so slightly from side to side, up and down, and back behind her. It was never very much movement, just enough to catch the full 360 degrees through the periphery. Despite the dangers that resided everywhere in the Universe, especially in his asshole end of it, there were very few people who were actually decent at that kind of awareness.
To top it all off, he was pretty sure she was armed. And he couldn't tell with what. There was just a certain kind of air someone had when they were carrying a weapon. Usually he could spot where and what they were carrying, but with her, he couldn't. And that made him nervous. It was becoming very obvious that this woman had training of some kind. Though whether government, law enforcement, private, or just the life experience of surviving hell like he had…he couldn't tell.
Definitely not good.
Out of everyone here she was building up to be the biggest potential threat to his freedom. Then again…
His mind drifted back to the cargo hold. He couldn't help but remember that she had gone out of her way to take care of him; make sure he wasn't wounded, treat anything that was wrong, and he knew for damn sure he was the first one to get one of those precious hydro pills. Why the hell would she have done that? He still couldn't figure it out, it just did not fit with anything he knew. He was pretty sure she had been warned about him by then, he'd heard Johns warning them off before Carolyn had come up to him. She knew who he was. She knew what he'd done. Well, at least as much as any of the others. And she'd still…
It was almost like she had been affronted with the way he was chained up like that. And it was obvious that she didn't like mercs any more than he did. Hell, she'd even massaged his shoulders loose for him. If she hadn't done that he might not have been able to pull that trick to get out.
Riddick blinked as a thought struck him. Had she meant to do that? She had to have known that the cutting torch was right there in reach. And pulling back that little bit of cloth so he could see…His eyes narrowed as he watched her. It couldn't be. It just didn't make any kind of sense. Especially not with the obvious training that she had. Hell, even if it turned out she was a criminal like himself it wouldn't have made sense. No one in his world would put themselves at risk like that by doing anything to help him get free. So why the fuck would she?
As if she knew he was thinking about her, at that exact moment Lera drew to a stop. Riddick froze as her muscles stiffened ever so slightly before relaxing as she turned her head in his direction…to look Right At Him. Barely a sliver of him was showing over the rise, just enough to see, but her eyes targeted right to his. Maybe it was a mistake, maybe he had gotten careless and she'd heard something, maybe…She smirked. Riddick scowled. She was smirking at him? He watched as she lowered her shades ever so slightly and though he couldn't see all that much at this distance, he got the distinct feeling that she had just winked at him.
In a flash, Riddick was moving away, driven by the need to be gone, out of her inspection. How the hell had she noticed him? Had she known the whole time? Or had she just figured he'd follow them and thus was more alert to any slips? Whatever it was, he didn't like it. It was officially the first time he had been made in years.
He cursed as he heard a couple of the pebbles be displaced by his sudden, disturbed departure.
Nice move Riddick. Why don't you just shout out a good evening while you're at it.
The worst part was, he was pretty sure she was still smirking.
ooOoo
Lera allowed herself the smirk as she slipped her sunglasses back up her face, listening to Johns yell at everyone to be quite. Really, now didn't that defeat the purpose? She knew why he'd done it though, he'd finally caught on to the fact that they weren't alone as the pebbles Riddick had loosened in his hasty retreat skittered down the hillside. Brilliant observation, that. Too bad he was too late.
Until this point Lera had been strolling along at the back of the group as they wound their way through the barren country side. She had taken up a position at the back of the group for a purpose. After all, with Johns and his gauge at the front the easiest way to start picking people off would be from the back. And it wasn't like this group was entirely skilled at defense. She'd expected Riddick to follow them and she'd been watching. It hadn't been too long after they'd set out that she'd caught a glimpse of him and proven herself right. If he was going to come after them for something, most likely he'd come after her, and she didn't want him to have to go through all the others to reach her.
Not that she didn't believe the things she'd told Jack and the others. Everything she knew about Riddick pointed to him being too smart for a direct confrontation. But if there was ever a time it would have been then, when they were spread out through this narrow gulch like so many lemmings in a line. And while she doubted that he was really the skull fucking evil bastard that Johns had made him out to be Lera had never been one not to cover her bases. She didn't like eventualities and generally did her best to minimize their effect.
That's what the whole wink had been about. Sure, it had been fun to burst his bubble, knock him off his peg, but there had been a message in there as well. A message only a man like him would get. It was a show of strength, a lack of fear, a claiming of territory from one predator to another. She knew he'd be wondering about her by this point. There things that she just couldn't hide from someone like him. They were things that most people wouldn't pick up on, unless picking up on that kind of thing tended to ensure your continued survival. By letting him know she knew he was there she'd effectively confirmed his suspicions without telling him anything…other than that he'd better be careful.
And frankly, she'd rather have him be more cautious around them than cocky. She had enough of that to deal with from Johns.
Lera strolled up to where the others were, her lips twitching in vague amusement as she passed the four boys throws rocks at the hill as though to chase Riddick off. The wrong hill.
She reached the two remaining adults just as the Holy man took Carolyn's pick from her limp looking fingers.
"We are all on the same Hajj now," he said as he left the pilot standing there. Lera's lips twitched again in wry amusement. She couldn't quite remember if Allah was supposed to be a merciful god or not. If He really was the one leading this parade, though, apparently he'd chosen the scenic route.
"You believe in God, Lera?" Carolyn asked in a quiet voice before trying to swallow the dust in her throat.
Lera quirked an eyebrow at her. She always found it interesting just how bad situations could bring out the faith in people. Things turn to shit and you're either cursing the deity of your choice, or asking them for help. She'd done it herself more than once.
"Sure," she shrugged, "though I couldn't name any specifically. Most of my prayers start out with 'Hey You'."
Carolyn snorted and her lips seemed to quiver. Lera fought a sigh. The woman seemed shaken again. It certainly didn't seem to take much. Sure, the situation was enough to rattle anyone, no matter their background, but frankly Lera was getting a little tired of playing comforter. And here she had thought her babysitting days were long over. She never had been that good with children.
"It must be nice," the pilot continued, looking after Emam, "to have that kind of unshakeable faith."
Lera shook her head. "No faith is unshakeable, Carolyn, no matter how strong. Something always happens to make you question something. The real question is, what do you do when that something happens? Do you let it shake the faith out of you, or do you ride the wave and see where it goes? Emam strikes me as the riding sort, that's why he seems to strong in all this. Never did the Allah thing, myself, but I gotta say…he's got a nice singing voice."
Carolyn blinked and snorted before a grin spread over her features. "I'm gonna go catch up with Johns," she said. "Best we don't get too separated out here."
Lera nodded and watched the woman walk away, a little more surety in her step. This was getting old. Not just the near constant comforting, reassuring, and hand holding she found herself doing, but the whole friggin' mess. For all she said, Lera wasn't exactly one to sit back and ride along, just waiting to see where she wound up. She'd rather be driving the bus. So why did she feel like she was sitting in the back of the short one this time?
Turning to glance over her shoulder at the boys still lingering back there she gave a short, sharp whistle through her teeth, making them jump and turn to her.
"Come on, boys," she said, motioning them to keep going since she was pretty sure they couldn't understand a word of what she was saying, "Don't want the devil to get too far ahead."
ooOoo
Jack crouched on the deck, trying to move as soundlessly as possible. So far she'd escaped the notice of her prey and she was rather proud of that. Granted, a Serrian Tusk Beast could probably have snuck up the Englishman but it was still an accomplishment in her book. And she figured she'd need as much practice as possible.
Just after the others had left Shazza had told her to get some rest while she looked around for the different things they'd need to start working on the hull. Probably the woman figured Jack needed a nap or something, since she was still just a kid to these people. Not that she wasn't a little tired, but Jack was used to little rest even when it was available. Rest had always been a luxury in her life, even before she ran away.
While she knew to take the reprieve while it was there, Jack had never been one to be idle. Couldn't be when you were all you had to take care of you. It had always been that way for her for as long as she could remember. Maybe there was a time before her parents died and her uncle took her in, but she'd been little then and whatever memories of ease had been there had long since been erased by misery and toil.
So while Shazza thought she was all tucked in somewhere Jack had done some searching of her own. Some of the computers on what was left of the ship were still working and Jack had decided to keep herself occupied in the non-labor intensive task of research. And her search had been very specific. Riddick.
Lera's words about the convict had stuck with her and peaked her curiosity. 'Never hurt a child'. For some reason that had struck her as odd, especially considering everything Johns had been saying about his prisoner. They way Johns made it sound, Riddick was the epitome of evil, Satan personified. Why would someone like that never hurt a kid? You would think it wouldn't matter to them. Hell, it hadn't mattered to her uncle and he was generally seen as an upstanding member of the community. Jack had seen the news vids, and they all said Riddick was a sociopathic killer capable of anything. It made her wonder…
She'd managed to access what was there in the stores of news that had been constantly piped to the ship while in transit…before the communications relay melted off, that is. Turned out they had had a fair number of articles. She'd gone through all of them, and sure as shit, not once was Riddick accused of hurting a kid. In fact, most of the incidence she read about where someone died it almost seemed like self defense. The others were so grossly improbable that it was ludicrous. She'd looked deeper to see what she could find and managed to pull up his record. After all, as much press as Riddick had gotten, it was pretty much public record.
There were two big conclusions that she had come to. One, Riddick was very good at killing if the body count attributed to him was even close to being correct. And two…he was a survivor. Anyone that could survive five different Slams in their life and escape from all of them was definitely someone not to be messed with.
And that's what Jack wanted, not to be messed with. Her entire frickin' life that's all she'd known. Her uncle messed with her, the kids at school messed with her, freakin' Fate messed with her on a daily basis. More than once she'd wished for a way to just get people, life, everything to just stop.
No one messed with Riddick.
And that's what had started her little hunt. If she could be more like him, have those kind of skills, that kind of badness to her ass, maybe everything would just leave her alone.
"You comfy up there?" she heard Zeke shout from somewhere down below. She almost jumped, not expecting the noise, and was rather proud that she didn't. Granted, she shouldn't have been surprised in the first place. Gotta work on that…she mused to herself. Maybe I could ask Lera for lessons or something. Not much she seems to miss.
"Yes, well it's amazing how you can do without the necessities of life, provided you have the little luxuries," Paris quipped back, rolling a fat cigar between his fingers. Jack tried not to gag at the odor. She always hated the things. Her uncle smoked cigars, not nearly as nice as the Brit had, but there were days she thought she would choke on that smell. Cigars never made her think of happy things.
"Well, just keep your bloody eyes open. I don't want that dog sneaking up my bloody ass."
Jack smirked as she crept closer to the oblivious man. If Paris' eyes were the only thing they had between them and Riddick then they better hope to hell that Lera was right about him. She was less than five feet away from him and the man had yet to even notice her.
"Yes, well, you dig the graves. I'll hold the fort old bo—aaaa! Christ!" Jack grinned to herself at the sound of the man's exclamation, holding her boomerang-like weapon to his throat, a slightly foreign but welcome feeling of success pooling in her stomach. Maybe she could do this after all.
"Probably get you right here," she said, doing her best imitation of scary, "right under the jaw and you'd never even hear him coming, cause that's how good Riddick is." And he was. She'd read all the reports. More than one kill attributed to him had him killing without anyone seeing him coming. One paper had coined him as The Shadow of Death, because that's how quiet he was supposed to be.
"Tell me something," Paris forced out of his clenched teeth, "did you run away from your parents or did they run away from you?"
And there went the happy feelings of success. Jack ripped away the blade and stalked off. Apparently not as intimidating as she'd thought. And of all the things for him to say…
ooOoo
Lera stared down at the massive bones below them, her mouth set in a grim line, as the other speculated around her. There was something not right about this, something that was niggling at her brain. She wasn't sure what it was, but whatever it was her gut didn't like it. And Lera always trusted her gut.
There was something about the way the massive creatures were spread out, the way their bones lay there. An ominous feeling settled over her that had nothing to do with their lack of water or crash landing. A communal grave yard? Maybe. One of the problems with deserts was that it was very hard to tell just how long anything had been there when it couldn't actually walk up, shake your hand, and tell you. Wind and sand stripped the hardest stones down to pebbles and grain. Heat baked everything to a hard crisp. These things could have been dead a year and looked like they'd been here for centuries. Hell, they could have been here for centuries and a sandstorm uncovered them a week ago.
But there was just something…familiar about the scene. She'd never seen an elephant graveyard, never actually been to Earth, but she'd seen others. She distinctly remembered a field trip to Maja 3 during her second tier in Primary to the Craz graveyards. Horny, scaly creatures, zoologists found it fascinating that their death behavior was so similar to that of elephants. The bones there didn't look anything like this. They were jumbled, the creatures decomposing wherever they lay down to die. They were stacked or separate and in complete disarray. They certainly weren't all pointed in the same direction like this.
No, whatever these things were, they looked…almost like they should still be moving. Like they were frozen in time in some sort of migration, stripped and left to wallow in the sands. Perpetually stuck were they were. She'd seen things like that before too.
Her jaw clenched as they went down to take a better look. No, something was definitely not right.
ooOoo
Riddick leaned back in the hollow of bone, waiting for the others to pass him by. Particularly the biggest thorn in his ass who was waving a gun around beneath him. Stupid merc, didn't even know how to look up properly. Probably, though, he shouldn't be complaining. He had to wonder, though, just how Johns was planning to capture him again when there wasn't a handy orphanage around to toast.
After he'd been spotted he'd decided to go on ahead of the group instead of pacing or following them. He still wasn't sure how that woman had been able to spot him, but he didn't like it. Definitely would have to keep an eye on that one. He'd found the graveyard a while ago and decided it was probably a perfect hiding spot for the moment. Not too far away from the crash-site and it offered not only plenty of places to escape the constant sun and heat, but and equal number of handy places like this to hide himself. Not to mention the raw materials, he grinned to himself as his hand clenched unconsciously around the bone shiv he'd fashioned. Not the most elegant weapon he'd ever held, but it would do for now. And frankly, he felt better with some sort of blade on him.
He'd actually just finished it when the others had shown up and he'd had to secret himself away. His lips twisted in disgust. Idiots. Loud fuckin' idiots. Didn't they have enough brains not to go announcing their presence like that when there might be hungry predators around? Not that there seemed to be, but they sure as hell didn't know that. Actually, come to think of it, he was getting kind of hungry.
Dropping down silently from his perch, well after Johns had moved on, Riddick stole through the bones on a silence born of survival. Most people wouldn't have believed someone his size could move so quietly. Most people learned too late just how wrong they were. He'd never been one to like attention and being quiet helped with that. Attention usually meant bad things in his life. Either it was the cops or mercs deciding to step in and make your life annoying, or it was someone who thought they could get something from you. Something you might not want to give. Riddick had learned early on that it was better to go unnoticed.
The sound of voices drew him. While he didn't want to be found, it was better to know what was going on. He was pretty sure some dead person had once said that knowledge was power. Well, they were fuckin' right. More than once Riddick had managed to get himself out of a tight spot just by paying attention to what went on around him.
"Drink?" The unmistakable voice of Johns. Riddick inched closer, seeing the seated figure of a woman through the slats of what had to be rib bones.
"Probably shouldn't do this, dehydrates you even more," a feminine voice said as she took the bottle and drank anyway. Our fearless Captain, Riddick mused to himself as he crept forward.
Johns muttered something, hanging his head as though he were abashed. Riddick raised an eyebrow. Abashed? Johns wasn't ever abashed. The fucker was colder and more ruthless than a politician. Just what the hell kind of game was he playing.
"You know you could have stayed back at the ship, probably should have. We don't find water, you know what happens," Johns offered with a kind look that almost had Riddick retching.
What is this? He sneered mentally. The sweet little southern boy routine? The nice guy act? Either he's just trying to stay looking like a cop, or he's trying to get into her pants. Probably both.
"I wanted to get away," Fry said quickly.
"I've never seen a Captain so ready to leave her ship." Riddick raised an eyebrow. For once in his damn life he actually agreed with Johns. He may have to soak in bleach later. The notion just made him feel dirty. Still, it was interesting.
"I think we should keep moving." Riddick's brow twitched a little higher. Not the most subtle evasion he'd ever heard.
Hmmm, he mused. Now this could be helpful. There was obviously something bothering the brave Captain. Something, perhaps, that he could use later. Riddick wasn't a fool. He knew he couldn't stay solitary on this planet forever. Sooner or later he was going to have to have contact with one of the other survivors. If he knew how to work them he had a better chance of coming out ahead.
"What Owens mean," Johns cut in as she stood, "about not touching the handle?"
Fry paused. Now this was most definitely catching his interest. He remembered the other crewmember's screams before he died. He'd wondered as well, but he didn't know nearly enough about the class of freighter they'd been on to make a guess as to what 'handle' he'd been screaming about.
Riddick stood as Johns played the sweet and helpful ear to bend, momentarily amused and appalled at just how oblivious people can be. Here he was, not two feet from them and they had no idea he was there. Hell, he could probably reach out at touch one of them and they wouldn't even realize it. In fact, he thought, brining up his shiv, that wasn't such a bad idea.
"I'm not your captain," Fry went on, leaning against the bones of the giant ribcage behind her, her head tipped towards her little confidant, leaving the left side of her neck and head completely open. "During the landing, when things were at their worst Owens was at his best. He's the one that stopped the docking pilot from dumping the main cabin. The passengers."
Riddick paused, pulling the shiv back slightly as her words hit him. Well, that was unexpected. So, our little pilot was having an attack of conscience, was she? Interesting. Especially since she was so willing and able to save her own hide over everything else when it really came down to it. Now that was information he could use.
"And the docking pilot being?" Johns asked, just a bit of his civility fading. While Carolyn was struggling with her conscious again, Riddick slipped the blade through the bones and into her hair, cutting off a lock with a quick 'snick'. Perfect.
"Well, I guess I'm a little more happy to be here than I thought," he barely heard Johns say as he examined the perfect cut his blade had made. Primitive, he thought as he brought the hair up to his face while they moved away before blowing it out of his fingers. But effective.
Riddick spun around at the sound of a low chuckle behind him, his shiv brought up to bare, only to pause at seeing a woman leaning casually against the bones of the gigantic ribcage behind him. One with a very familiar smirk on her face. Lera Chase.
"Funny," she quirked an eyebrow at him, "I don't think I've ever seen the 'is this blade sharp enough to cut someone's hair without them noticing' test before."
Riddick continued to stare at her amused expression, more than a little irked that not only was she able to find him where the others couldn't—not once but twice—but that she'd been able to sneak up on him without his noticing. Obviously long enough to see the little test he'd performed. It really had been sort of a spur of the moment thing for him. Sure, he'd wanted to fuck with Carolyn a little bit, he liked messing with people, but it really had been a way to test his make-shift shiv. After all, there wasn't really anything else for him to test the sharpness on. Most people would have thought it more than a little nuts. He wasn't sure whether or not he should be disturbed or pleased that she immediately seemed to understand what he was doing.
"Though I have to say," she continued, pushing off the bones at her back, "that the whole sniffing it and blowing it away like that did look a little psycho."
He blinked at her behind his goggles, his expression not shifting as he tried to understand her warm and open tone. "Smelled funny."
Lera quirked an eyebrow at him and her lips twitched as he cursed himself silently for saying that. 'Smelled funny'? What the hell was he thinking? Finally, though, she nodded.
"Yeah, I've noticed," she said. "Root beer. Whatever it is she uses on her hair regularly smells like root beer. Strange."
Riddick tipped his head to the side slightly as he watched her. This woman was a complete mystery to him. There was nothing that she'd done since the crash that made any sense to him. She wasn't afraid of him, that much was obvious. She'd been kinder to him than anyone he had ever met. Everything about her was a contradiction to what he'd come to know and expect.
"Here," she said, tossing something at him. He caught it easily with one hand and looked at it. It seemed to be some kind of rectangular, tinfoil packet. He looked back up at her with a raised eyebrow of his own. "It's an MRE," she explained. "Meal Ready to Eat. Thought you might be getting hungry. There's no hydro in there, unfortunately, and it tastes pretty much like plastic, but it's full of vitamins and all kinds of good things to keep you going. Probably part of why it tastes so bad. Good thing is there's enough in there to last a few days."
He looked down at the pack in his hands for a moment, completely confused at the gesture, before looking back up at the woman before him. What the hell was she?
"Why?"
Lera blinked. "Told you, thought you might be getting hungry." He frowned at her and she rolled her eyes. "People are getting jumpy," she explained. "Johns has got them all scared shitless about you. Personally I think it was that line about you coming back to skull fuck them in their sleep that really did it. Chances are if you risked a raid on the food stores you'd get blasted. There isn't exactly much to forage around here and you can't go forever without food."
"Got a hard time believing this is all about my well being," he growled at her. Lera smirked. He was really getting to hate that smirk.
"You're right, of course," she said, "I rarely do anything for just one reason."
He watched as she turned regarding the bones that surrounded them, waiting for an explanation.
"You know, the others think this is some kind of graveyard, like the elephant graveyards back on Earth," she started and Riddick frowned at her. Definitely not the explanation he was looking for.
"You don't?" he asked, slightly curious as to just where she thought she was going with this.
"No, I don't." She slowly drew her fingers along the bones and he noticed for the first time that it was across a rather jagged grove running through them. Not just one, either, but a set. That ran completely parallel to each other. She reached the end of it and then found another. And another.
"Something killed these things," she said, softly, her eyes thoughtful. "Something with very, very sharp teeth. I don't know what they are, or where they are, but there's a very dangerous predator on this planet…and I don't think we need any more blood on the wind." She ended, giving him a very significant look.
Riddick snorted. Now this, he understood. "So, you really are just looking out for yourself."
She paused, just staring at him for a moment, completely serious and Riddick felt the smirk drop from his lips. Her eyes flicked down to the packet his was still holding before turning away.
"Yeah," she said in a sardonic tone as she walked away from him on silent feet, "that must be it."
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AN: Well, I hope you liked that bit. A couple more clues about Lera and a few more insights into the other characters. Let me know what you think and Review!