Happy "Fast & Furious" US movie release day everyone! Riddick, of course, insists you pay attention to him* so insisted I post this chapter.

(*if you're curious, I've posted some meta-fiction on my writing process with the big guy over at the VinXperience website - google it, it's a good place to find more Riddick fics.)


Jack lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in the moonlight. She could hear Mom and Dad going at it on the other side of the house. She jammed a pillow over her head. Why couldn't they at least try to be quiet? The only good thing about it was it signaled that Dad was going out tonight. Whatever they were doing in there wore Mom out. It sure as hell wasn't the cinematic sex she saw on romance vids in the afternoon. Not that any of those soppy soap opera heroines could handle her Dad, even on a good day. Oh EWWWW! As if! Why was she even thinking that?

She tossed the pillow aside and sat up. May as well get dressed. Dad was less likely to hear her while they were making a ruckus. Jack fingered the micro-braids Aunt Ziza had put in for her yesterday. She should tie her hair back, make less noise.

She'd asked Ziza about that yesterday, the noise her parents made. Jack knew about sex. She was 10, after all. They'd been studying zoology and mating patterns in biology. But she was pretty sure what her parents did was not normal. They weren't trying to have more kids, snarky comments between them told her that. So why did they always have to go at it like a pair of crazed monkeys?

Ziza had laughed. "Oh Jackie dear, we should all be so lucky to have that kind of passion." The older woman yanked on the braid she'd been cornrowing. Ziza always called her Jackie when she talked down to her, it was annoying. She scowled.

"They're not in Shakespeare or some romance vid, why can't they just be normal?" Ziza laughed again.

"Child, you really want your father to be normal? Take you back to Helion or an inner sphere planet with a normal job where you never see him, with no hunting or tracking or giant blue-cats for pets?" Jack slumped in the chair. "Mmm-hmm. I thought so."

"You father is unique. So is your mother. They compliment each other, but your father is very much a wild thing. He is like this planet, honey. He's of this planet. Just like you." She plucked another tie from Jack's hand. "Riddick does what he wants, and he never does anything halfway. Thankfully you have your mother's sense to temper that." She tugged another braid teasingly.

"What's you and Uncle Basir's kid gonna be like?" Ziza's hands stopped. She was silent a minute, and Jack winced.

"I did it again, didn't I? I was weird." Ziza made a noise and started braiding again.

"You're not weird, honey, you're gifted. But it is rude. You have to think before you say personal things like that to people." Jack sighed.

"But you are pregnant."

"Yes, but Basir doesn't know yet, I just found out yesterday. That is very personal information. And if we weren't family, if I didn't know your poor mother has to deal with this all the time, I'd be very put out."

"Sorry." Jack kicked the chair with her heels. "It does freak Mom out when Aiden and I do stuff like that. Know things. It seems normal at the time."

"Normal? Are we back to that?" Ziza patted Jack's shoulder. "You can't have it both ways, little one."

No, she couldn't. Jack knew that. And as something soft and predatory uncurled in her breast now, as she sheathed her knife in her boot, she knew this was how it was supposed to be. Tonight she'd find out where her father wandered on these nights he wasn't hunting, nights he didn't bring home a kill. He'd brought home venison earlier in the week, so tonight was one of those nights. She stood in the shadows of the room, waiting to hear the front door close. Then she waited five minutes and followed.


Puppy was sitting patiently on the far side of the fence, she could see the big cat's black bulk clearly in the moonlight. Riddick didn't let him come along on these nights, one more indication he was prowling, not hunting. The cat switched his tail in greeting, and turned luminous eyes on the woods. Jack wondered briefly if Dad thought using Puppy to track him was cheating. Then again, the last time she'd let him come along, the beast had run off, chasing prey. It was like the cat knew damn well what she was trying to do, and wouldn't play along. Dumb Puppy knew where Dad was going, and would only help her a little. Still, half-assed help was better than none. And Dad made it hard on purpose.

"Go find Dad," she whispered fiercely, swatting him on the rump. The cat snuffed and then launched into the brush. Dad had been giving her lessons in game tracking on Solday afternoons, and it had taken her three months to realize that the whole exercise was because he knew she had been following him at night. But that remained unspoken, its own kind of test, and a damn tough one for her. He deliberately ran her into dead ends, then erased his trail like magic. She'd take her anger out on small game the nights she lost him. She was getting pretty good with her throwing knives. That's really why Puppy tagged along. He got to eat the recipients of her frustration.

Puppy got distracted by ground birds twice, but Jack was smart enough to know now when he was chasing another scent. She looked up at the stars through the trees, trying to gage how far she'd come in the past 20 minutes. Dad's lead always lengthened whenever she stopped to rest, she couldn't keep his pace, but she was getting better. She scanned the brush at waist height, knowing most prey didn't disturb foliage that high off the ground. Terusk deer might, but they'd be avoiding trails this close to home since Dad had brought down a buck and dragged it home this way. She was beginning to recognize smells out here too. Old blood or new, fresh spoor or stale... it was strange the way her senses stretched without the overload of home and other people.

Puppy had bored of harassing birds and came back to sit by her silently. She scratched his head absently as she searched for clues. The breeze changed then, making the leaves around her shudder and hiss. Then she caught the sweet syrupy scent of mazen sap. It wasn't the time of year for the deer to be marking territory by rubbing the trees... She moved forward to the left. Oh Daddy. Her fingers traced the shoulder-high cut in the bark of a blue-black trunk. The sap was just starting to ooze. He didn't leave footprints or snapped branches, but he left her very deliberate clues.

Another half hour and Jack was stuck again. She knew this north western direction was familiar, but he'd followed a dry creek bed instead of going over the rise where there was a high meadow. She'd lost him past there last time. She wondered if it was a false lead, since he'd disturbed the dirt there, almost as if he'd changed his mind mid-pace. Then again, the meadow had been the dead end last time. She crouched in the dirt, running fingers over the print. She had to think. Riddick was quarry but not prey. He didn't think like a rabbit or a deer. He was a predator, and he moved like one. If he changed direction, it was for a reason, and not because he was spooked. But... he might have spooked something else...

Jack shut her eyes, listening. Bugs and breeze and birds in the distance. Puppy huffing around in the brush behind her. Dumb cat was making too much noise, she couldn't hear any little animals scurrying about. Dumb cat didn't make noise when it was hunting, which meant, something had scared all the critters in this area to silence. The birds up in the meadow were still calling, and if she strained her ears she could hear scruffing up there too. Dad hadn't gone that way. That eliminated 40 percent of the radius of travel, and she could nix the way she'd just came. So still moving north along the creek bed, but veering east.

It was a gamble, but Puppy was keeping pace with her, so she figured it must be the right direction. Then the cat suddenly bounded off to her right, away from the creek. She heard him crunching before she caught the smell. Dead shrill-pheasant. Big one too. Already bled out. Dad's idea of a joke. Feed the kitty, throw them off the trail. Dammit. She left the cat there, backtracked to the creek.

This was the farthest she'd gotten. And she wasn't going to be put off now. Dad would throw her like this, but he also wanted to be found. She knew that. Didn't know how. But she could feel that. She just couldn't get mad and let him win. She just needed to calm down. She shut her eyes and counted slowly to ten. And felt a tug.

Well that was weird. For a second, she could smell smoke. Then it was gone. She looked around. Nothing unusual. She breathed in deeply. No, just the forest smells, loam and greenery. She shut her eyes and tried to relax again, empty her head. Another pull, the scent of something burning. Gone in a breath. But it had been east, north, away from the creek now. Strange, but even if it wasn't her father, it was worth investigating.


Riddick was in his favorite tree, waiting for her. Jack didn't see him, didn't even seem to be looking for him, so he just watched her silent approach. She still looked small, coming up that final hill where the woods broke, still shorter than her namesake had been when he'd met her, all those years ago. But Jack had grown in the past few months, gone willowy. Her hair though, braided back like that, dark now like her mother's... he had an eerie sense of deja vu, her calm purposeful gate reminded him of Shirah.

He banished that thought and allowed himself a moment of pride as she topped the rise and gasped. She'd made it here. On her own. His daughter. Yeah, he'd helped, but not much. He'd like to see another 10 year old track him this far. Half the Merc Core couldn't track him like that, even if he left corpses. So yeah, she done good.

He jumped down from the branch as he watched her shudder at the sight of the cemetery. He didn't offer her solace, just waited for her to get over her fear of seeing a childhood nightmare made real. She shivered again, clutching her worn neck bag.

"Dad... I remember this. I used to dream this when I was little." He grunted, watched her. No telling what the old wizard wanted with her, and if she couldn't handle this, no way she was going to make it through the boneyard. He thought for a second she might bolt... but then she seemed to shake it off. She turned to face him.

"He's down there, isn't he? The one who made this." Jack fingered her necklace again. She licked her lips and bounced restlessly on her feet. Then she shut her eyes. "I get this... tug..." She looked up at him. He couldn't help but grin at her.

"Yeah. Sorry kid, runs in the family." He finally hugged her. She sighed, pressing herself into him, reminding him of when she was five. He ran fingers over her braids. His child. Still pretty weird. Good weird, but weird. "Ready to go find out what the old guy wants?"

"Yeah, OK." She stepped back.

"Home stretch kid. Keep up." Then almost as an afterthought "You did good, Jack. Real good."


Comments are always appreciated. Once I finish this, I may expand it. What people have said so far helps me consider what details you need/want to know.

Mainly at the moment, I'm just trying to get this DONE. I'm still wrestling with execution of the ending. Still, comments keep me modivated. Thanks.