Chapter 7

Mercs were on machines, ruthlessly moving through the settlement, setting fire to homes and destroying anything in their path.

Riddick ducked, rolling for cover away from the newest explosion.

Settlers were screaming and running wildly as Marty tried to organize his little group, no match for the deadly Mercs.

Near the destroyed hall a tall, dark skinned man stood surveying the damage to the settlement, not a remorseful bone in his body. "Start gathering the survivors, we'll see if they know anything."

Riddick had three of them down and dead within minutes. He watched as Marty's group took out two more just before exchanging a horrified glance as a rocket launcher destroyed them and the building they were using for cover.

Following two more Mercs who were searching the houses, Riddick used the rocket launcher from the dead Merc that killed Marty, making sure it was the last house they searched. Only five left. Piece of cake.

Carolyn, with Greg's help, led the children into the culverts. "Don't panic, don't panic," she continued to tell them over and over. Her demeanor didn't reveal her fear but looking into her eyes, Greg knew she was terrified. Trying to lead by her example he tried to stay calm as well, holding the hands of the smaller ones. Looking over at the Widow Fry, she smiled and nodded at him.

Dancing across the rooftops, Riddick jumped on the merc holding the settlers at gunpoint slamming him hard into the ground, a knife ripping across his victim's throat even as guns pointed towards his head.

"Mr. Riddick, I presume."

Standing, Riddick wiped the blood from his knife upon his pants as the settler's eyes widened with amazement at the sight of Riddick and his victim. "I see my reputation has preceded me."

"Well I don't know about all that. Rumor has it you're dead."

"Thought your kind would know better than to listen to common hear-say."

"Boss Johns ain't all that common."

"No, he's not, is he?" Riddick said with a smirk as he watched the Merc sweat in the cold. A dead Riddick was one thing. A living, breathing Riddick was something entirely different.

"Go find the rest of the men." Roark barked at his remaining men.

"No need for that. All of your men are dead." Riddick said watching as the three remaining Mercs looked nervously between him and Roark.

Riddick motioned the men towards him. "Think of it this way. Just that much more money to split." All three turned on their heels and ran.

"After them!" Riddick barked at the settlers who were being held. "Now!" he added causing them to scramble to their feet, the men arming themselves as they rushed out of sight. All the while Riddick and Roark circled each other, looking, measuring, and calculating, Roark feeling more like a cat's toy than an actual adversary.

Carolyn did her best to comfort, cold and crying children. Taking Amanda and Greg's year old baby sister, she rocked the sleepy infant. "Come children, gather round." With Greg's help she placed sheets on the ground in the corner at the very back of the collapsed culvert, having the dozen children stack up on top of each other as comfortably as possible, before using the rest of the blankets to cover them. Thank God, Riddick knew to send them with all the blankets she had. Taking a position between the children and the opening, Carolyn huddled up with Amanda, Sara and Grayson, keeping the smallest of their ragtag group calm and quiet as they waited for someone to remember where they were.

Greg, evidently had the same fear of being forgotten as she did. "Widow Fry. What if he doesn't come back?"

Carolyn reached out and took his hand. "If we haven't heard anything in a few hours, I'll go back and make sure it's safe for us to come out." The boy nodded, wrapping his arms back around the toddler in his lap.

In the dying light of the fire, Riddick and Roark circled each other, Riddick lazily so with a small mocking smile on his face. Roark lunged suddenly at Riddick who had him on his back in a second but at the same time he was hitting the ground, Roark was throwing himself upward to regain his feet. Riddick let him, his smile growing broader, a knife appearing in his hand.

Attempting to tackle Riddick again, Roarke slammed his shoulder into Riddick's waist as they grapple for a few minutes going back and forth before Riddick hit the ground, grabbing Roark by the ankles toppling him to the ground while flipping himself onto the Mercs back, holding his head off the ground with a fist full of hair.

"Just do it."

Without another word Riddick's knife slit open Roark's throat, watching as the white snow began to bleed.