A/N: this is a revised version of chapter 3 and has nearly a thousand more words in it. Most of the new has to do with filling out the Shazza-Zeke-Jack relationship character a bit. Also added Jack's claim of being a runaway. I don't own, so don't sue

A Passage 3:

Meeting friends…

Paperwork finished, dreams chased away by nerves that wouldn't let her sleep unless utterly exhausted, Jack was strung out along a line of chairs waiting to board her transport, something to take her further away from the nightmares. She watched as other travelers settled in to wait. It was early still for this flight, so most avoided the dock she was at, but soon a couple camped out at the terminal. Many of the other passengers for other fights seemed to give the new pair a wide birth. It was easy to see why with the tall green-eyed woman's fierce beauty and sculpted form that matched her dark-skinned male companion perfectly. They wore rough clothes and carried weapons openly. And interestingly enough, none of the port security gave them any shit about it.

Jack observed them for a bit. In spite their gruffness in appearance and the seemingly wild air about them, they seemed to be a nice pair, well suited for each other. They looked like a couple that had spent many years together and had built up intuitive knowledge of their collective strengths and weaknesses. Yet they flirted with each other like sweethearts newly enamoured with one another. It was like a romance vid or something surreal. They spoke in quiet tones that Jack found calming. Something about the pair called to Jack like a siren song. Try as she might she was unable to ignore it. Finally, she stood up and introduced herself to them. Since she had decided to travel as a he the introductions made was: "Hi, I'm Jack. You going to Tangiers?"

There was something about the bold child that seemed to strike a chord in Sharon Montgomery. Normally she and Zeke would stay unattached to other passengers on any boat they boarded. But Zeke nudged her shoulder and made his characteristic 'Share, yah?' motion when it came to this particular amber-eyed child. Shazza had almost signaled no, yet in spite of her long standing habits she had taken the food and passed it to the youngster. Then Zeke had surprised her by not only sharing their names but also going as far as explaining where they were heading, "Hay, mate. Zeke, here," He tapped himself with a finger. "Shazza, my squeeze," he indicated the dark haired woman who rolled her eyes, "No flirtin' from you, young man." Zeke shook a teasing finger Jack's direction. "Off on a hunt, we are. Takin' backroads, ghost lanes, like this one. The way of our life, ain't that so, Shazza?" Shazza looked like she was suppressing laugher but nodded, rather too shocked at the stream of words coming out of Zeke's mouth to shut him up. "Got ourselves a right nice job, far, far past the civilized Tangiers. Out in the wilds, just like dreamtime should be. But stopping there?" He paused to raise an eyebrow and open a pack of food himself, "Yeah, we must have to," he made a face. "Or we'd not be taking this flight, mate."

Jack felt instantly at home with the man. His expression of distaste made her want to giggle, even. But did boys giggle? Likely not. So Jack smiled as she followed suit and opened her own package of food. It would be rude to not eat what was offered, after all. Zeke smiled and seemed to transform back into a quiet, calm, easily overlooked entity. But his black eyes twinkled as they met her amber gaze showing that the clown was still there underneath the exterior of deadly quiet.

"You alone, hon?" Shazza asked as she watched Jack nod to her first question and waited for the child's mouth to empty with some amusement, "Why so?"

"Mum just died and my step-dad is sending me to live with an Uncle," Jack finally answered.

Something about that story felt false. It bothered her, as seeing a child alone was unusual. If Jack was fibbing though, there was likely a good reason for it.

Jack noticed the look, "Well, ok. Not totally true. I'm running away, not being sent. I've got an uncle on Tangiers though that sent me the money for the ticket and is waiting for me. He didn't like my step-dad and blames him for my Mum's death. It's her brother, see. My step-dad wouldn't approve. I don't really care. I'm going anyhow."

'Gutsy brat,' Shazza though, 'Maybe Zeke is right about this one. Could even become a bushwhacker someday.' She decided that Zeke's impromptu adoption of the youth was good enough, "Well then, Zeke and I will make sure you get to Tangiers, luv." The woman smiled at Jack with genuine warmth.

Zeke, as he silently listened to the entire short conversation, gave out food until Jack was sure there was none left. And after, he draped a blanket over the child's apparently sleeping form. But Jack continued to watch the pair through lidded eyes and was enthralled by what she could see. These two had something that her parents never had. It was alien to Jack's young eyes yet she yearned for it. For the first time in months she felt safe, fed, and warm, and … so exhausted. The lull of the background noise carried her away into the land of her nightmares.

Audrey twitched as the events of her last night at home replayed themselves again. The footsteps in the hall…the door creaking open…the jagged breathing…the nightstick against her struggling flesh. Fresh scarlet on the sheets and on the slick black surface of the weapon he held in his bloody fist. A new kind of blood slick in a place she'd never been threatened before, a new kind of pain threatening to split her being into fragments, a new horror that her young mind was not yet able to deal with. It never failed to send her bolt upright.

The movement caught Shazza and Zeke's attention. The both watched, unsure of how to deal with the situation. It sure looked like the boy was struggling against something or someone… It was a relief when Jack sat up, clearly wide-awake but unseeing of his current environment. This Shazza had some experience with. She moved over to his side and kneeled down giving Jack something to focus on. The dark-haired woman looked at the boy with compassion. It had to be hard, traveling alone, at that age. She guessed that the child was perhaps ten. By his lack of luggage she assumed that his travels had not been very kind. He had eaten like it had been days since his last meal, too. Shazza kindly ran a hand over his elven face. His flushed skin was covered with a sheen of cold sweat. She slipped his cap off and gently tousled his brown hair. "It's okay, Jack. Whatever is haunting you is gone. Some water?"

Jack nodded. This woman was nice. So not like her mother. Her eyes were clear, intelligent, and alive. She was comforting. Zeke came over with a water-bag. "I'd not drink the water here without filtering it first. So, I don't expect you to either. It'll make you sick." He held out the clear bag. Jack took it and sucked at the corner where the water would come through. She'd seen this type of container before, at the mines. The guards carried them for emergencies, personal ones. The workers went without. Zeke noticed that she knew how to use one, "You been around a bit, haven't you, Jack?"

She stopped sucking and looked at him, wondering if he'd be angry. Instead she saw understanding. "Had these back home in the emergency kits, mister," Jack answered. "Doesn't everyone know about these?" Zeke and Shazza smiled about the answer. They really smiled. And when their eyes met Jack could see that they very much loved one another. She was pained again for a moment with a longing to be part of that emotion. Life sucked. Her parents had never looked at each other that way. Her mother was always too wasted; Pops was always too cold. She looked away from them, blinking back moisture that threatened to fill her eyes. 'Boys don't cry,' she internally scolded, 'and now you're a boy. So just stop it.' The sun was just lighting up the horizon, creating a faint shift in the color of the sky. Jack handed Shazza the blanket. "We got a few hours still, don't we?" Shazza nodded. "I'm gonna go to the john, then. Don't leave without me." She tried to joke. It came up flat.

She took her time in the washroom, careful to enter the correct one for her guise. Amazing how easy it became after the first time. Jack washed his face. 'His, I'm a he,' The thought was a mantra, if repeated enough would it be true? She felt something odd, something moist. 'Ah, fuck. No…' Had it been a month already? The girl inside panicked. It had to be. She dug in her pant pockets. She'd have to get into that storeroom again.

Jack slipped out of the washroom. After looking to see if she was being watched she hurried down the terminal until reaching the 'employee only' door that led to a hallway connected into various supply rooms. Likely that door should be locked, but someone trusted the sign to keep people out. It opened easily. The hall was empty, silent, and dimly lit. Once before at another spaceport she had discovered a need to acquire an item or two. Had it really been a month ago? It seemed like yesterday, really. Then again her entire last year was like a blur sometimes. Jack quickly and quietly bee-lined to the door, her heart fluttering like she was about to get caught. No one was there. She had no reason to be afraid. She tried the door when she reached it. It was still gummed up. She gave it a push in just the right spot for it to click open. She slipped inside and pulled the door shut behind her. Jack stood in the darkened room and scanned the shelves. Not much had changed since she'd been in there the day before. It looked like the janitors had not been in there at all. Why had she not filled her pockets before? Stupid oversight, really. She risked getting caught every time she did this. But who would miss a .10 UD item? She really doubted that anyone kept track of the stuff in here. It was just the idea that she'd broken into the room. 'Hell, get what you came for and get out,' she scolded herself.

There was a broken into package of what she needed right in front. Right where she expected them to be, same place as the day before. The moisture reminded her again why she was there. 'I wish I was a boy sometimes… I really do. This sucks so bad. Man, I feel like I'm gonna cramp up. I'm gonna be sick….' Part of her dreaded the cold air as she stripped quickly, forcing herself past the point of argument. Her underpants were stained, freshly so. Bile threatened to rise in her throat as her muscles begin to knot up in her middle. Damn it was cold in here. Why hadn't she noticed that tiny fact before? And there was nothing but an old coat of paint between her shoeless toes and the concrete floor. The cold sucked the heat out of her legs. Cryo was going to be a bitch, too, Jack realized suddenly. Damn cold. The sink was on the back wall. Jack padded over to it, feeling the hair rise on her arms as she goose-pimpled. Shivering now, she turned on the cold water knowing that hot water would just set the stain. Her fingers ached as she washed the underpants out in the utility sink and wrung out as much water as physically possible.

Now that she was cold to the bone she stared at the wet clothing. Putting it back on would be very uncomfortable. What to do? She shuffled back to her pants, trying to hug herself to keep from losing more body heat. She had one old pair… maybe they would still fit. She dug them out of the pocket. They were hard, wrinkled, and stained, but at least the stain was old and they were dry. She contorted up her face. Once upon a time she'd refuse to put them on, but now she had no choice. Either these or the wet pair. She opted for the dryness, fitted the sanitary napkin into place, and put her pants and shoes back on. Her muscles still were in knots. Okay…there had to be a medicine kit or refills for one in here somewhere too. But first she had to take care of the wet underwear. She looked at the water bag. It was empty but the plastic would keep the moisture from seeping through her pocket. She opened up one seam of the bag carefully, wadded and stuffed the damp clothing into it and tied it shut. With any luck she'd not need to do this again until reaching Tangiers. Jack piped up, 'Since when has your luck been good, Audrey? Like never, huh?'

She cringed at the tone in the voice that whispered through her mind. It was true, really. Her luck usually was sucky. She glanced around and located the supplies she needed before carefully filling her pockets and backpack with things that might be useful. All the while she kept her ears open for any noise coming from the hall beyond. She did not open any bags, nor did she empty any out of fear that she'd be caught if someone noticed changes. Still she managed to get a hold of enough stuff that she felt okay about it when she opened up the pain medication to ease her cramps. Then she carefully made her way back to the door that led to the main loading area.

oOoOoOoOoOo

After a manhunt the night before, no sleep for what seemed forever, living off the high…Johns was more than a little uptight as he ordered a herd of security guards that were supposed to be helping him move his charge from the hotel lockup to the port. Yeah, he'd fucked up. He left Riddick alone for an hour too long and almost lost him. Came back to the hotel and found it in shambles and his bounty gone… Luckily, blindfolded and shackled it hadn't gone far. Johns and the hotel security spent the entire night searching for the large man only to discover him holed up in a janitor's closet trying to get the chains off less than three rooms down. Then he discovered that the hotel was charging for overtime staffing on top of damage done and a 100 UD note was missing from his billfold. He put the charges on credit. Let Riddick pay for it when they got to Tangiers. Let Riddick pay when he fried.

People scattered from the horde of blue clad, armed, nervous men that formed a parameter around a tightly bound, straining, muscular figure. Shazza and Zeke watched the mass approach, talked it over for a moment and then moved over to a newsstand well out of the way with their belongings. They recognized Johns at the rear, giving orders like a slave driver. Shazza began to look for Jack. Better get the boy out of the way of this mess, she thought. Besides Jack seemed like a tough kid, with much promise, and she was thinking about taking him in and teaching him the trade.

Riddick calmly guessed that he was not getting out of this. It had taken too long to break the cuffs at the hotel, and he'd gotten caught. Johns was acting more paranoid than usual. The binds were tight, very tight. And the bit was far too harsh, really. 'He doesn't want me talking, that's all.' Talking about Butcher Bay, or Slam City, or those kids' needless deaths… No, Johns did not want Riddick talking. It was too good of a scam. Too bad it had to end. Then there was the blindfold. While he was somewhat grateful for the protection from the strong sun even if he couldn't see, the thick stiff covering also was uncomfortable. And something told Riddick that he had to get away, somehow. He could almost believe that the pain was telling him 'Last Chance.' The only good thing about this was that he did not have to walk. That alone gave him time to smell out his environment. What was it that he was trying to place? So it was a spaceport. It smelled like a spaceport. But there was something – familiar…

oOoOoOoOoOo

She heard it before she saw it. The noise of mismatched marching feet and muffled orders rumbled through the door as she paused to let it pass. She heard the creak of metal wheels and the rattling of chains. 'What the fuck is going on?' Her ears picked up hushed sobs from a frightened child as she huddled behind the door. The noise evenly receded. She had to catch her breath. The port was filled with security guards now. Was Johns here? That had to be it. She'd forgotten that Riddick was going to be in this ship. She swallowed and cracked open the door enough to look out. Everything seemed normal again. The passage of the throng was forgotten as soon as it was out of sight. Even the child was quiet. Slipping out, Jack began to trace her way back to Shazza and Zeke. By the time she made it there, a swarm of port security nearly filled the seating area. They milled about like a bunch of riled up giant blue ants. Every type of guard wore blue it seemed. All of them had guns. A few had stunning sticks or worse. They formed a moving wall as they roamed around keeping the curious at bay.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Riddick's nose caught the familiar odor again. It was becoming stronger, but he still couldn't place where or what it reminded him of. He focused his attention on it. It was like a speck of something pleasant in his otherwise ugly life. Like a flower trying to grow through cracks in old, pitted, blacktop caught in a ray of sunlight. And he clutched it in his mind and held onto it even though he could not identify the source of the smell. It lifted him out of the brutal situation he found himself in just enough to make it possible to endure it. He was able to relax his shoulders and back just enough to defuse the potential damage from the overly tight bonds. Whatever—no, whoever-- the source of the scent was he knew he would likely not get any closer.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Shazza and Zeke watched from the little newsstand for Jack. Port security was doing its best to act as if this was routine when clearly it was highly irregular. Zeke considered catching a different ship, but realized that would make them lose their next job. They couldn't afford that if they were going to take on Jack. And for once, more than anything, he wanted to take on this kid. He was less than happy with the situation. It was like fate dropped the child he and Shazza always wanted into their laps, dangling it like a treasure, only to snap it away. If something happened to the boy… 'Oh, damn that Johns! What the hell is he thinking?' By all accounts this was not the proper way to transport such a dangerous convict. Even he knew that. 'How in Gods Name did he get anyone to agree to this stunt?' Zeke focused his anger on Johns and balled his fists up tight.

Jack slowed in her approach. 'Yeah, there he is,' the thought echoed around Jack's head as her eyes settled on Riddick. Not spotting Shazza's attempt to get her attention, Jack crept forward until she could see more than just the glints of metal bars securing his broadly shouldered, muscular form and naturally tanned skin. Jack could tell he was strained in his current position, forced unnaturally still by efficient bars that formed a kind of cage around him. The man's arms bulged with effort as he alternatively flexed and relaxed them to keep the circulation going in what would have been an otherwise dangerous position for his hands. Large hands balled into tight knotted fists, Jack noted. His head was nearly bald, he had perhaps a week's growth of hair on both his jaw and his skull. He was blindfolded with a thick piece of leather and a harsh-looking bit distorted his mouth. Jack was mesmerized. The black garbed man was Riddick. A tingle raced up her spine. She would be on the same ship.

Not until one of the security personal caught her up by the shoulder did she realize that she was still moving slowly toward the scene. "Kid, you don't wanna go there," the male guard told her. Jack barely heard him. Her eyes drifted over the scene moving until she spotted Johns. It was his hair that made him stand out. That darn flame-red tightly-curled head of hair. Johns was arguing with the head of security about how slowly things were going. He was calm enough, but his body language was just as strained as his captive's. He was holding back an emotional explosion it seemed. That or he really needed another fix. He blanched slightly as Jack watched. She couldn't hear the conversation though, so it could have been over something being said. The guard was still talking, Jack was aware that he'd never really stopped, "…you listening?"

Over by the newstand Shazza finally spotted Jack. "Damn, that child is going to get into a shit load of trouble." Zeke ignored her. "Zeke, I'm going to go get Jack."

"Ay, luv. Take the badge," he managed as he tore his own gaze off the redheaded menace long enough to pass it to her.

A few seconds later found Shazza interrupting the guard holding the youth; "The boy is a paying customer. You might want to take that into account," She was still approaching, weapons visible, as she continued, "He can wait with us until you get the other two loaded." She held out her hand, showing the guard something that convinced him that Jack was not worth the trouble. He released her to Shazza. The green-eyed woman took Jack by the arm and led the boy back towards where Zeke was standing. The move forced the smaller youth to look away from Johns and Riddick. "Very stupid, Jack. You are a smart kid, but those guards are strung very tight. Anything goes wrong and there will be bullets flying everywhere." Jack nodded and looked at the guards more closely. Shazza was right. They were very nervous with Riddick in their midst even if he appeared completely secured.

"Sorry, " Jack looked at Shazza and managed a most convincing apologetic expression.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The pause at the loading area was only a temporary one. Riddick almost lost track of time as he focused on a wispy, half-formed image in his mind. An image triggered by the scent he found himself so intent on. It was not that he could identify much about it. Only that eventually his mind would locate the memories connected to that scent or a very similar one. Eventually. It was like a puzzle. It was something to do.

Another part of his brain informed him that this was a commercial ship, at a commercial port, soon to be filled with paying passengers of the most innocent sort. Johns was loading him up with civilians.

Really stupid. He smelled enough to know that he would have time, plenty of time, to escape. He heard talk about a secure Cryo-chamber arriving, questions about how to get him into it. Not that he cared. Once outside he'd look for a mistake. All he needed was one tiny slip…

Johns got them moving. He feared this part more than anything besides landing. In most situations he could count on Riddick doing the predictable thing, but Riddick was becoming just a bit more unpredictable as of late. Or he was getting sloppy. Had to be the dope. Damn that last shiv fight. Yesterday Riddick had been full of fire, violent, and ready to make a run for it. And had nearly slipped him. Today the large man was quiet, calm. Too calm. He was even relaxed although the cage and cuffs had to be painful. Johns just couldn't wrap his mind around how Riddick managed to embrace his pain like it was an old, well-known lover. The more he pushed his prisoner, the less he understood about him.

With creaking wheels and grunting men marking the passage, Riddick was moving again. This time the guards struggled to lower the heavy, old cage down the ramps and stairs. He smelled their fear. What could he do? The bit kept him from even speaking, so there was really no reason for them to worry about him attacking, yet. Johns was behind him, "Don't drop the mother-fucker, okay? I don't think your ancient equipment would survive it." The guards doing the work suppressed groans and curses. Riddick heard a sadistic chuckle escape from his bitted mouth. Had Johns been in front the sound would have earned him a nightstick to the face, but at it was he only got a "Shut the trap up, you piece of shit."

There was a pause, the groan of a door being opened that likely had been closed for years, and then cold thin air ripped into him like a thousand tiny knives. Only by the change in smells could he tell that they were outside now. It had to be near freezing out on the landing platform. Riddick felt his arms threaten to tighten. He forced them to go slack. Shivering would make getting away difficult. Not even the sun, bright as the light was, could warm the frigid wind whipped air. He couldn't even feel it on his skin. Instead of trying, Riddick focused all his hopes on the cage not fitting into the chamber. Lady luck smiled at him, for once.

The guards and Johns got into a spat over how to get him into the lockdown cryo chamber, leaving him to fight off shivering as the wind bit into his uncovered arms. Tiny chills raced over his skin as he struggled to not allow his muscles to take on the task of attempting to heat him.

Johns was speaking, "I don't want to take the chance that this ass-fuck has some wild plan up his sleeve."

"Well, fuck you,Marshall. It's not in our job description to handle persons like this." One of guards replied. The others mumbled in agreement. Clearly they didn't want to be outside with this known Merc killer.

"Look, I understand that this goes way beyond what they pay you for. But think a moment; you guys want better jobs? Yeah? Well, you're never gonna get anything better with the attitude I see here. Don't 'Fuck You' to me, you shit-faced coward. I deal with the likes of this kind all the time. For shit pay. And I'm the one that is gonna be sleeping next to the bastard, all to keep you and your families safe. All you have to do is be careful. The cage will hold him as long as you don't give him any chances to turn on you. Treat him like a wild dog, right?" Johns finally talked them into carefully whittling down the restraints until Riddick fit into the cryo-chamber.

Lady luck turned her back on Riddick again… the guards didn't give him an opening. Still, Riddick smiled behind the bit-induced grimace. The death box's tight fit meant that he only wore neck, wrist and ankle chains, a single ridged bar in the front, the bit, and the blindfold. He nudged his foot forward just enough to keep the door from locking all the way. A hair farther and it would be noticed… a hair less and he'd be screwed.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Inside, Jack watched with rapt attention. Shazza stood nearby for a time also watching. She and Zeke clearly disliked what was going on. 'You'd think that they'd all settle down now that Riddick is secured in cryo….' A window-hunched Jack looked out at the loading platform where the ship was docked, the Hunter Gratzner, her transport off this world, out of this system. Riddick had disappeared into the death box waiting for him out there before Shazza had walked away. Jack was still watching a few unlucky members of port security maneuvering the "no early release" cryo-chamber into the ship. Johns had somehow convinced them to load Riddick into it before hooking the chamber up. 'God, that must fuckin' suck,' Jack thought as she shook her head. From what she could see the chamber had been a tight fit and most of the cage had been cautiously removed until only a little was left. It had been a slow process done outside in the cold thin air. For safety's sake, Shazza had said. But even Shazza looked a little miffed at how everything was being handled. Now that Riddick was loaded into the chamber, the guards were trying to get the entire heavy thing into the ship it up without breaking it. Only then could the techs hook it up. No body wanted to risk taking Riddick out again.

Jack turned away from the window as Zeke walked by mumbling about how this was delaying their flight. She turned to see others gathering. Shazza looked relaxed enough. Zeke paced. She figured those hanging around were her fellow passengers. Most were not much to look at. Some pilgrims, some businessmen, a family or two. The normal stuff. Jack went back to looking out the window. Johns was supervising everything. Not that he looked overly capable of the job at the moment. Jack had seen him blanch once, several hours ago, she figured that if he needed a spike it was long overdue. He looked like he was hanging on by his fingernails over a thousand- foot drop. He looked bad.

Another boy walked up to her, "What you watching?" Jack tore herself away to look at him. One of the pilgrims, he was about her age. Arabic, with a light accent. He wore the garb traditional to his religion in tones of browns, tans, and whites. He was curiously looking out the window now too, but had no idea what he was looking at. "My name is Ali. What is yours?"

"Jack," she answered. After considering him a moment, Jack continued, "They're loading someone, that's all, Ali. It's takin' them a long time." The other boy seemed content with the answer. They watched as the guards finally got the chamber through the doors and the techs moved inside. Johns followed them with his shotgun in hand. Ali's two brothers, Hassan and Suleiman, had wandered up and were watching over their shoulders. Neither of them understood who was being loaded either. Jack looked up at the older boys as the security guards began gratefully moving back inside. "Hi, fellas." The three pilgrims seemed friendly enough.

Zeke's voice broke through the murmur of the crowd, "So when do we get to board? We are already behind our launch."

"When the techs say that everything is hooked up and he's doped out…" The security head scowled at the man confronting him, "Not a moment sooner." Jack went back to watching out the window. She lost track of time, but finally Johns came out of the ship followed by the group of techs. He turned and shook their hands. Then he came back inside and headed straight to the washroom. Only after he had returned and spoke quietly with the head of security was everything cleared for boarding.