Author's Note: This is the other half of the previous chapter and Riddick does make an appearance in this. However, it may not be what you all hoped for. I did say this gonna be a slow-building, after all, this is just the calm before the storm.

Chapter 6
Boneyard

I went outside, lifting my forearm to shield my eyes from the twin blazing sunlight. When my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I made out Johns' form standing atop of the crashed nose of the ship. He was scanning the area with a scope for any signs of Riddick.

I found Imam and his little group nearby. They switched to their traditional desert robes, which were well suited for the terrain. I walked up to Imam, smiling at one of the children that gave me a shy wave hello before running off. Another person was walking behind me, and I turned to see it was Fry. She caught up to me and we reached Imam at the same time.

"Earlier we were discussing what we're going to do next," Fry said, crossing her arms. "Imam plans to have a small group of us go explore the region for water. He wanted to do that as soon as possible, but I suggested we wait until the suns are closer to setting. It should be less burning hot by then."

"Good idea. It'll also give Shazza plenty of time to finish working on the respirators," I mentioned, pushing my hair behind my ears. "Who's going?"

"My charges and I," Imam answered, fixing the sleeves. "You're welcome to join us."

"I'll be going too," Fry added. "Oh, and Johns."

"Okay, count me in," I said, looking back to the ship and up at the sky. "Any idea how long we'll be waiting?"

Fry shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine."

"Then it's best we use this time to complete other tasks," Imam said, motioning to the ship. "There's still plenty that needs to be done."

Fry nodded, looking back at the ship. "They need to be buried."

"I will find a spot for them," he said solemnly. "As well as something to mark their graves with."

"Thank you," she said, leaving.

"What will you be doing?" he asked, looking at me.

"Watching over Owens," I answered. "Maybe help with the respirators too."

"How is he?"

"Alive and fine for now," I said, shrugging helplessly. "I wish I could do more, but there's not much else I can do for him."

"You helped him when the others could not," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "If he's to survive, that will be up to him and Allah. I'm sure whatever happens he'll be extremely grateful that your paths have crossed. I know I am."

"Thank you, sir," I said politely, turning away.

He nodded with a kind smile and dropped his hand from my shoulder. "If you ever need to talk or someone to listen, please don't hesitate to come to me."

I nodded, smiling back at him before wondering around. I wanted a few minutes to myself before going back to the ship. I breath deeply and exhale through my mouth. I felt a bit more relaxed and closed my eyes. It took a bit of focusing to pin point where everyone was and Riddick definitely wasn't in the area. That put me at ease since he's an unknown factor and I don't want to have any confrontation with him anytime soon.

I paid attention to Fry, seeing that she started to keep herself busy. She was preparing the rest of her crews' body for burial. Even the passengers that didn't make it. Once Zeke was done sharpening the axes and heard what she was doing he joined her. They moved all bodies outside with a tarp pitch up to shield them from the suns' rays. The bodies were already decomposing, which wasn't surprising in such a climate. It's also a health hazard for us if we kept them in the ship any longer.

While they were doing that I went backed to the ship to keep watch over Owens. I checked his wound for any signs of bleeding or infection. Once in a while he would open his eyes and fall quickly back to sleep. There wasn't much for me to do besides keep Shazza accompany and help her with the rest of the respirators. With the both of us working on it, it didn't take long to finish. She collected them all and left the ship to hand them out to everyone who didn't get one earlier. Jack got bored and left to see what everyone else was doing.

It didn't seem like much time had passed, but soon enough Fry came into the cabin. "We're heading out."

I nodded, wiping some of the sweat off Owen's forehead.

"How is he?" she asked, staring at him. "Has he woken up or said anything?"

"For now, he's okay," I responded, leaning back. "He did wake up, but he was only lucid for a few minutes."

Fry looked conflicted and relieved at the same time. She's most likely wondering if Owens told me what she was going to do. She many not realized it herself, but she was holding her breath when I answered, fearing the worst.

"It was just enough to tell me that he's not completely sure if he sent out a distress signal. However, he confirmed that we're in the G system."

Fry released her breath, not expecting to hear that. "Wh-what? G system? That wasn't the planned route."

"Yeah, I was surprised to hear that too," I said, standing up. "Rescue is gonna take longer to reach us."

I looked back at Owens and to her, wondering if I should tell her that I know. We're alone, and this would be the perfect opportunely to do so. It won't change anything, but at least she would be aware that I know and can't just brush it off like it never happened.

I don't hate her because I understand. It's not a situation that anyone would want to find themselves in. Everyone has survival instincts, but not all of them are able to override their self-preservation. It also reminded me of the trolley dilemma. You either save one, which kills everyone or save everyone, but it kills the one. Only difference was that Fry was the one person in the position to either save herself or doom everyone. If it wasn't for Owens' quick thinking the rest of us wouldn't be here. Of course, I'm a bit bias when it comes to my life being in danger. Maybe I should let her know that I know. That way she won't be so quick to make the same decision next time.

"By the way, I know."

She pulled back, surprised that I bluntly said it. "Wha-"

"About what you did, well, what you were gonna do if it wasn't for Owens," I clarified.

She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again.

"There's nothing for you to say. Just that I get it," I said, patting the dust off me. "If you're worried that I'm gonna tell the others, I don't plan to. It's done with and we got much more important things to focus on."

She sighed in relief, like some of the weight on her shoulders was lifted off.

"I'm...it's... Owens is the real hero," Fry began, struggling to find the right words to convey her thoughts. "I know that there's no amount of sorry I can say that will make it right. But I also don't feel like I have anything to apologize for. It's what I thought was right..."

"Stop," I interrupted, holding my hand up. "You don't have to explain anything. I get it, but that doesn't mean we're gonna be best of friends. You can't fault me for being a bit bias, but I also can't fault you for valuing your life too. Just...don't be quick to make the same decision. At least, not without making sure that you're absolutely sure that there's no other way."

Fry nodded, "I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

"I know," I said, frowning. "Hopefully, it isn't put to the test anytime soon."

"Do you think the others?" Fry trailed off, biting her lip.

"Will be as understanding as me?" I finished as I looked at her. "I don't know, but they probably won't be at first. If you do decide to tell them, maybe wait until we're out of this place. Or don't, it's your decision."

"I don't know," she sighed, looking out into the hole in the ship's wall. "There's gonna be some consequences either way."

I grabbed my glaive. "There always is, but that doesn't matter at the moment. We all need to work together to survive the mess we're in right now. I don't know if there's ever gonna be a right time for you to tell them or not. But that's not why you came here, is it?"

"Yeah," she said, "It's time to head out."

Fry and I joined Imam, who was circled in a shady spot near the entrance to the ship. "Imam, we should go now," she advised, pointing to the sky. "Before nightfall, but while the air is cool and we have enough sunlight to see."

He peered up through his spectacles and nodded.

"What? You're going off, too, then?" Zeke asked, popping his head through the torn metal hull. "Bloody dangerous with that psycho about."

"We've got to find water," she reminded him brusquely. "And we won't be gone for long."

"Can you find someone to watch over Owens for me?" I asked, standing besides Fry and leaning over into his sight.

"You too?" Zeke sighed, wiping the sweat with his forearm. "Yeah, that can be done. Be careful though."

Fry gestured at the compartment where the bodies were stored. "Do me a favor and get them buried?"

Shazza floated up behind Zeke, her features solemn. "Of course we will. We were planning to do that anyway."

"Imam! Imam!" one of the boys yelled, waving at him to come over. "Look!"

When we got closer I realized it was Hassan that yelled. He was pointing at something behind the ship. We rushed to his side, rounding the ship to see a blue star flaring into view. It was rising as the other suns were setting. We gaped at the sun shimmering on the horizon like a brilliant blue sapphire.

"Bloody hell..." Shazza muttered.

Jack stood wide-eyed at the sky. "Three suns?"

Zeke glanced at Fry. "So much for your nightfall."

"So much for my cocktail hour," Paris said sourly.

Imam remained optimistic. "We take this to be a good sign," he declared. "A path; a direction from Allah." He noticed Zeke's incredulous squint and smiled. "Blue sun, blue water."

Zeke shook his head. "Ever wonder why I'm an atheist?"

Johns swung down from the top of the ship and dropped besides us. "I take it as a bad sign. That's Riddick's direction."

Fry folded her arms. "I thought you found his restraints over there, toward sunset."

Johns snorted as if it were obvious. "Which means he went toward sunrise." Reluctantly he unstrapped his pistol and handed it to Zeke. "One shot if you spot him."

Paris wasn't amused. "And if Mr. Riddick happens to spot us?"

"There will be no shots," Johns assured.

Zeke's smile faded and he scanned the sunrise horizon, as if the hard blue glared would reveal where Riddick lay in wait.

We parted ways with the others and began trekking. The Chrislams waft incense pots and chanted from the Koran as we marched towards the rising blue sun. Johns trailed close behind, providing shotgun escort. I was next in line, using the glaive as a walking stick to help with my footing in the sand. Fry bought up the rear, carrying one of Paris' war-picks on her shoulder like a scythe.

We were just a half-hour from the ship and the others were already thirsty and feeling the heat.

"Quiet," Johns whispered abruptly. "Quiet!"

They fell silent. We all stopped and looked at Johns. He stood still, head cocked as if listening to something. Suddenly he whirled, shotgun raised. At that moment a string of small rocks rattled slowly down the hillside. Fry glanced at me and then at the others. We all shared the same thought, was Riddick stalking us?

I concentrated on the area with the rocks, feeling a presence move away from the spot with quiet swiftness. it felt human, with a higher body temperature than most people I've come across. It's probably Riddick, unless he's not the only human out there. Without a word Johns drifted up the hill to investigate.

Already sun-battered by the glaring heat, Fry approached Imam.

"Do you have a cloth I can use to wrap my head?"

The man proffered a traditionally patterned scarf, and helped her drape it correctly, shading her eyes. "Now you are a proper Muslim woman," he said with a reassuring smile.

They turned to me, wondering if I wanted one too.

I shook my head. "Thanks, but I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Fry asked, as she took a deep breath through her respirator.

"Yes," I said. "It doesn't bother me as much because I'm use to it."

Truthfully, it's because I'm not actually effected by the heat or the sun's ray. It's not going to harm me, unlike Fry's fair complexion. She'll burn to a crisp if she continued on without covering her skin. Fry nodded and took a better look around without squinting as much as she was earlier. "So quiet," she said, almost to herself. "You get used to the sounds of the ship, then..."

Imam blinked at her. "You know who Muhammad was?"

Fry shrugged. "Some prophet guy?"

"Some prophet guy..." Imam repeated, as if she had said something profound. "And a city man. But he had travel to the desert - where there was quiet - to hear the words of God."

"You were on a pilgrimage to New Mecca?" she asked, trying to be friendly.

He nodded solemnly. "Chrislam teaches that once in every lifetime should there be a great hajj - a great pilgrimage. To know Allah, better, yes, but to know yourself as well."

"That's one trip I probably shouldn't take," she thought out loud, with a frown on her face.

Imam smiled and adjusted the scarf securely around her neck. "We're all on the same hajj now."

While Fry and Imam were talking I glanced up at Johns, who was doggedly scouring the hillside for tracks. He swept the area, section by section, but stopped after spotting something in the distance. He took the scope from his belt and lifted it to his eye. I hiked up the hillside, wanting to see what caught his eye.

Fry turned to see where I was going and looked at Johns.

"What is it?" she asked, following behind me.

"I don't think it's Riddick. He must have found something else," I said, reaching the top.

"Tell me it's not a mirage," Johns said, handing me the scope since I was closer. "It looks like trees to me."

I looked and beyond the distant rise is a strange structure that look like branches of what could possibly be of trees.

"I see it too," I said, passing the scope to Fry. "It's hard to tell from this distance, but whatever it is, it's certainly worth a look."

"Trees?" Fry questioned, bringing the scope to her eye. "Oh, they might be."

The news pumped fresh energy into the scouting party.

Johns took the lead and as we got closer, the young pilgrims broke into an exited run, anticipating an oasis. But Fry and I hanged back, taking a better look at the trees.

"Aren't trees suppose to move in the wind?" I asked, squinting at the structures. "It's hot and humid, but there's still a bit of a breeze going on."

"That's true. But now that we're getting closer, it's not as green as I thought," she said, worried. "Instead of trees, it could be cactus. Like those tall tree-like ones?"

"Maybe. We won't know for sure until we actually reach it."

The younger ones scrambled over the rise and were now standing silently at the sight before them. When we caught up to them, we saw why. The trees were actually bones of a titanic skeleton. The only reason we mistook it for trees was because the first one in sight was tinted green by lichen. Beyond it lay an immense sea of bleached animal bones.

The skeletons were huge, with mammoth, hollow skulls the size of cave dwellings. Fry and the others shuffled slowly into the vast boneyard, unnerved by the eerie wailing carried by the wind. Like discordant echoes of long-lost souls.

"Is this whole planet dead?" Fry muttered, worried.

As if in answer, one of the pilgrims said something in Arabic.

"He asks what could have killed so many great beasts," Imam explained, voiced hushed.

We continued farther, pausing before a perfectly preserved skeleton that seemed part crocodile, part camel-and all predator.

"Some communal graveyard perhaps, like the elephants of Earth," Imam suggested.

No one answered. Each of us was preoccupied by the towering bones. Fry touched one the bones, a rib of some sort. Deep cut marks were etched along it, almost as if the bone had been hacked by a sword. I stepped besides her, studying the marks and watching as her hand trailed it. I noticed that many of the bones surrounding us had the same marks on them too. I don't think these large creatures die of natural causes; something else had got to them.

"Graveyard? Or killing field?" Fry wondered out loud.

"My guess," I whispered. "It's the latter."

Something poked out from within one of the deeper punctures. I reached up and plucked it out. It was a needle-like tooth, about the size of my fingers. It was still razor sharp as I dragged it across the bone. It wasn't as deep as the others cuts, but it matched the smaller marks.

Fry frowned, looking at the tooth. "You think they were killed by the same animal that gnawed on them?"

"It seems like it," I said, passing the tooth over for her to examine better. "It was probably more than one that did all this. A lot more from the looks of it."

Most predators prefer fresh meat, and will often pass up a carcass more than a few days old. After all, with this much heat and sunlight the meat would spoil quickly. Any animals on this planet probably adapted and figured that out over time. So it's likely that whatever creatures are on this planet didn't attack for the fun of it or to defend their territory, but instead they intended to feast. Either there were a lot of them that needed to feed or there were only a few with very large appetites.

I glanced around, wondering where these creatures could be hiding. That's if they're still around and haven't gone extinct themselves. I may need to take a closer look at the skeletons around to see if one of them doesn't belong. It could give me some answers as to what kind of creature this tooth belongs to.

"Do you think whatever this comes from is still around?" she asked, giving me the tooth back.

"I hope not," I answered, pocketing the tooth for Jack. He may find it cool and want to keep it as a souvenir. "But we can't rule it out. We haven't seen any other type of skeletons around besides these."

"That's true," she said, nudging a smaller piece of bone away with her foot. "I don't know if it's just me, but something about this place..."

Johns came behind Fry. "Long time ago. Whatever happened," he interrupted, as if that solved everything.

Fry glanced up in annoyance. But before she could respond, one of the young ones laughed. The sound oddly out of place. Spurred by curiosity, and a sudden aversion to Johns, Fry hurried off to see what was so funny. I frowned at her back, not wanting to be left alone with him. While his focus wasn't on me and I left before he noticed I was still there.

I walked around, finding a smaller skull that was probably an adolescent of these colossal creatures. I carefully climbed on top of it, hoping the view up there would provide some answers. There were more of those deep cuts on the skull and the bones nearby had them too. I still couldn't see much, so I climbed onto the bigger skull next to it.

The way these creatures were position, the bigger ones were trying to shield their young. They were hunched together, putting the smallest of the pack in the middle and standing over them. Interesting, does that mean they were attacked by aerial predators? Otherwise, there would be no need to place themselves in such a way if the attack only came from the sides.

I peered up at the bright and cloudless yellow sky. I haven't seen or felt anything up there since we got here. Either these other creatures are long gone by now, or they're hiding somewhere else on this planet. Maybe on the other side of the planet? Or possibly underground? But why would aerial predators nest in the ground? There's plenty of tall rocky walls and cliffs over there in the distance that could work well for nests. Maybe even some caves there too? But why haven't they made any appearances if they're still around? Even predators can be curious and would've investigated the disturbance we made in crash landing here. I don't know, but something about this feels off and that bothers me.

I closed my eyes, trying to sense the ground beneath. There's a lot of volcanic activity down there. If something else is down there I wouldn't be able to differentiate it. It blends altogether like a restless molten ocean. I don't know what else it could be. The creatures? No. It can't be as there would need to be a ridiculous amount of them to feel anything like that. I sighed, shaking my head at the thought.

I spotted something different in one the colossal skeleton's mouth. Its teeth clench tight on it and it was large, but rather small against the other skeletons. I shuffled closer to peer at it. There are delicate little bones on each side of it and at the end of it as well, which I think were once wings and a long tail. Thick sharp claws are on its feet. Actually, the placement of those two limbs looks more like arms instead of legs.

Its skull is shaped strangely like a cross, the sides being longer than the vertical parts. With my abnormal strength I detached the skull and dragged it up to inspect it closer. The skull is rough, solid, and it has no eyes. Most eyeless or blind creatures use echolocation to travel and find prey. Or it might have some sort of complex sensor organs to be able to 'see' in a way. That's usually because such creatures live somewhere dark or underground. Some even have a sensitivity to light because of it. That's makes the possibility of them hiding underground a bit more concrete if they have no use for actual eyes.

I moved the skull around, noticing it also doesn't have a nasal cavity. So does that mean it has no sense of smell at all or does it do it in a different way? Such as through its tongue or touch? Unfortunately, I can't answer some of these questions just by looking at its skeleton alone, but it certainly has helped a lot. I pried opened its jaw and saw the familiar long needle-shaped teeth lining its mouth. Yikes, I certainly don't want to get up close and personal with a real one if it's still around.

I dropped the skull since there was nothing else I could learn from it. I glanced around, wondering where everyone could have gone to. I climbed to the other end of the skeleton and focused on the heat-energy of the others. That's odd. I'm sensing seven people, not six. Who's the extra? From the shape of it, it certainly doesn't feel like it's an animal.

The group of four clustered together is probably Imam and his acolytes. And the two outside of the group might be Fry and Johns, but someone is practically on top them. Could it be Riddick? Or did one of the others from the ship joined us? I slid off the skeleton, quietly tracking down where the extra heat came from. I spotted the group through the rib of a colossal skeleton from the other side.

The youngest, Ali sneaked off into a one of the skulls nearby. It happened to be the very same one that I felt the extra heat hiding in.

"Ali!"

I flinched, startled by the cry.

Suleiman was looking for him. As he spun slowly in search of Ali, Imam stood unperturbed, as if he'd seen this before.

"Harrh!"

Ali popped out of the darkened skull like a laughing ghost. Then he disappeared again. Suleiman started after him, but Imam stopped him with a stern look. As Imam moved towards the skull, Ali scrambled outside.

"Get out, dammit!" John's gruff voice shouted after him. "This ain't no playground."

Shaking his head, Imam gave Ali a gentle push toward his fellow pilgrims. I frowned, staring in Johns direction. Ali is just a child. He has no right to treat the boy that way-or anybody else for that matter like that. I'm not the only one to think that because Fry called him out on it.

"At ease, Johns!" Fry said sharply. "Nobody put you in charge."

"Maybe you better come in here," Johns drawled.

It sounded more like a challenge than a suggestion. Fry cautiously moved inside the hollowed skull. Without any of them knowing I walked closer to their spot. I crouched, and I placed my hand on the skull, sensing three people inside it. Only a two of them I know of.

That third one has to be Riddick. I felt him before, but I wasn't too sure. He does run hotter than everyone else, and his energy is distinctive now that I'm this close to him. It's wild, like a caged predator ready to pounce on its prey at any moment. But what am I to do? Is he just hiding or waiting for the right moment to strike? I can't warn them because that would force him to take action. He's right there, watching them. I'm surprised that they haven't looked up, but I suppose that's the reason he picked that spot. Hardly anyone ever does.

I should leave it alone because I don't see anyone winning if we have a confrontation right here. I take my hand off the skull, looking for a crack or a hole to peek through. There's nothing, but the eye socket. I can't use that without being very obvious. However, I can still hear them clearly and sense their positions. I pressed my ear against the skull and closed my eyes. For some reason I sense Johns is kneeling on the ground.

"Look at this," he muttered.

I felt Fry crouched besides him. Johns points at something. I wonder what it is. Footprints? Blood? A burrow? Whatever it is, it seems to be on the ground.

"Big Evil is around here somewhere," he muttered. "I can feel it."

Oh, well that's awkward. I can feel Riddick's form tense as Johns stood up. I heard him hefted his shotgun. Slowly he inspected the inner wall of the huge, hollow skull, probing each shadowy nook and cranny with his weapon. Satisfied, he backed out toward the exit and Fry followed.

They left, probably looking for other signs of Riddick outside or around the skull. I waited to see, well, sense what Riddick would do next. He shifted in his hiding spot and moved into another position, which was on the other side of the skull. It was also closer to the exit. I pulled back, glazing at the eye socket. While Riddick was focused on Fry and Johns I used that opportunity to peeked inside.

As soon as my eyes adjusted to the shade inside the skull, I spot a circle of sharp bone chips. The chips were about the size of a fingertip. They seemed to be freshly cut somehow, one side whiter than the other. It doesn't look like it happened naturally. That must have been what Johns was looking at. He said it was Riddick's doing. Did he make something out of one of the bones? Some type of weapon perhaps?

I looked at Riddick's spot, but couldn't see him that well in the darken area of the skull. I could still feel him though. He had his body at an angle with his head titled at me and yet his focused was still on them. I squinted at him and wondered if he's actually aware of me. I haven't made any noise for him to suspect anything though. Even my breathing was calm and silent. And yet, I noted he's being careful to not show his back in my direction.

I bit my lip and slowly raised my hand to give him a silent wave. He didn't react. Either he genuinely doesn't know I'm here, or he does and doesn't want to reveal it to me. I'm unsure which, but I have a feeling that if I looked away now, he'll be right there in front of me. And strangely, I don't feel like I'm the one in danger. My attention shifted towards the skull's exit as Fry reappeared at it. She was snapping a fresh breath from her respirator.

Riddick moved.

Fry was so engrossed in her task that she never noticed Riddick's dangling form just above her head, poised to strike. I couldn't see it before, but In his grasped was a chiseled bone shiv.

I grasped the edge of the skull's socket, trying to keep myself from lunging forward. My wristband was immediately in view. It reminded me to stay calm and in control as the radiation number jumped. I breathe deeply through my nose and waited for the number to go down. I'm not exactly a lawful good person, but there are things that I can't just standby and let happen.

Riddick remained perfectly still, body wedged in a bony crevice above Fry's head. Intently he watched her step inside. A few moments later he swung down to the ground quietly. She was less than an arm's length away and Riddick carefully eased his blade towards her neck.

I released my hold on the eye socket in relief, as Fry took a step forward away from him. There was a darken hand print left behind on the bone, like a scorch mark. I sense Johns walked over to stand before her. "You look about ready to keel over."

I leaned away from the eye socket and moved cautiously towards the mouth of the skull to get a clear view of them.

"I'm fine," Fry said breathily, pulling the scarf back and wiping the sweat from her brow with her forearm. "I'm not use to this kind of heat."

Johns clucked his tongue after taking a hit of scotch and extended the bottle to her. "Care for a taste?"

She took a step back to leaned against the skull wall, which was just inches away from Riddick's blade. "Probably makes it worst. Dehydrated you even more."

Riddick's shiv reached out for the back of Fry's neck.

"Probably right," Johns muttered.

Fry took a drink anyway. Just as Riddick's blade extended closer, she stepped away from the opening again.

I gritted my teeth, wondering what the hell Riddick is doing. Does he know I'm watching and is just toying with me? To see what I'll do or say? Or is he amusing himself with us? To prove to himself that he's got the upper hand and could've done something whenever he wanted. That seems a bit too much like a predator playing with its prey before swallowing it whole.

I also didn't expect for Fry to have very shitty situational awareness. How can she not feel his presence when he's that close to her? And why do I smell something burning? I glanced down at my hands, not realizing I had placed them flat on the jaw of the skeleton. I quickly shook them out as I noticed there was a slight glow and smoke coming from them. I softly sighed at the obvious hand prints I left behind. I hope none of the others come back here and notice it.

Johns took another swing. "You know, I woulda played road dog for these guys. You could've stayed behind. Probably should've...because, you know, if we don't find water..." he paused to pass her the bottle. "...we may not make it back."

Fry shrugged and grasped the bottle. "No. I...wanted to get away."

"So I noticed. Never seen a pilot quite so ready to leave her ship."

Riddick eased closer.

"Better keep moving," Fry said. She handed Johns the bottle and stepped away from skull to leave.

Johns remained where he was. "What did Owens mean? 'Bout not touching the handle?"

Fry paused, staring silently forward.

Johns pressed. "Hey, see anyone else around here?" He lowered his voice. "Just between you and me. Promise."

When she didn't answer he tossed the bottle aside and leaned closer to her. "Carolyn," he said, using her name for the first time, "sitting on our secrets ain't gonna help us now."

I wondered if she'll say something about it. It's her secret to tell, but Johns is the last person that she should reveal it to. He seems like the type of person to hold it over someone's head later on for his advantage. Even though it won't be her fault, Riddick will know too if she does decide to talk about it now.

Fry turned, looking over her shoulder. Her face was contorted in thought, debating with herself if she should give him an answer or not. Her eyes trailed over his badge, before meeting Johns' inquiring eyes.

I pursed my lips, suppressing the urge to sigh heavily. She's going to tell him. That's fine, but I hope she doesn't tell him that I know. I don't need him questioning me about how I found out, when, and why I haven't said anything to the others. It would be another excuse for him to talk to me, to get a feel for what kind of person I am.

"I'm just a second class pilot," Fry said slowly. "And during the landing...when things were at their worst. Owens was at his best. He's the one who wouldn't let a pilot dump the main cabin," She paused to make sure he knew what she was saying. "The passengers."

Johns straightened up. "That pilot being..."

"Me."

Johns was taken aback by her confession.

"So, now you know."

With the two preoccupied Riddick moved rapidly, and deftly his blade snipped a lock of Fry's blonde hair. Not a second later, he melted back into the shadows of the hollow skull.

"Fuck," Johns said finally. "Guess I'm more glad to be here than I thought."

Fry looked away and kept her face carefully blank. "We should go. We've been lingering here for too long."

They walked away, heading towards clamor of the others. I watched as Riddick's goggled eyes looked over at the scotch bottle Johns left behind. It still had one good swallow. He stared at it and slowly turned his head in my direction. I panicked, jumping back and I nearly fell as I hid from his view. I grabbed my glaive when I felt him move. I didn't stick around long enough to know where he was going. Nor did I want to know what he'll do if he found me.

I ran into the two kids, Hassan and Ali sitting on a broken rib bone just a few paces away from the group. They were talking animatedly about something while resting in the shady part of the skeleton.

"Marhaba!" Hassan greeted as I came into his sight. "Hal tafhamina?

I nodded, greeting him back. I wasn't too sure what he was asking, but I knew enough of the language to get a vague idea.

"I don't understand. Do you speak English?" I asked first in English and then repeated it in Arabic.

"Laa, faqat qalilanaan," he answered, using his fingers to convey how little of English he knows.

"It's alright," I paused, trying to remember the words. "La bas."

Ali pulled on Hassan's robes, whispering something to him. Hassan looked unsure, but ultimately shrugged before turning to me.

"Maa'," he said, cupping his hands and pretending to take a sip of it.

Water? Is he saying that... "Are you thirsty?" I asked, letting the glaive rest in my inner elbow while digging into my bag for the bottle of water in it.

"Na'am!" Hassan exclaimed, dropping his hands.

Ali spoke too fast for me to understand completely, but I did catch Jack's name and the word water in it. I'm guessing Ali saw me with the water bottle and wanted to know if I'm willing to share it with them as I did with Jack.

I shook the bottle in their direction. "Water. Maa'."

They both perked up and nodded. I passed it to them so that they can both quench their thirst. They thanked me and gave it back when they were done. I smiled at them as I put the bottle away and I felt someone coming closer. I turned to see Suleiman calling out to us, and motioning for us to come over.

I nodded at him and looked at the boys. With a grin Ali surprised me by skipping over to me and reaching out to grab my hand. Hassan followed suit by grasping my other hand. They tugged at my arms wanting to escort me in Suleiman's direction and I let them, amused at their playfulness.

"They were not too much trouble?" Imam asked, with mirth twinkling in his eyes.

"Of course not," I replied as they bought me to stand near Imam. Both boys dropped my hands and started chatting up with Suleiman. "They're good kids."

Imam smiled, patting Ali's shoulder as he passed him. "Have you come across anything interesting?"

"I suppose I did," I said pulling out the tooth for him to see before putting it away. "These big guys might have been taken out by whatever this tooth belonged to. It certainly matched a lot of the indents on all of the bones."

"Surely, these creatures are long gone by now."

"Johns certainly thinks so," I replied curtly.

"You do not agree?" he inquired.

"I find it strange for a planet as this one to be completely dead of life," I said fiddling with a stray thread poking out of the pocket of my bag. "Those skeletons prove it was possible at one point and that it may still be true even now. We can't simply rule it out that we're alone just because we haven't seen or heard any signs of life besides our own."

Imam hummed in thought for a moment, then spoke up. "By the grace of Allah, I have hope that we will be fine. But if there are other dangers besides Riddick, it does not hurt to exercise a bit of forethought and cautiousness."

I relaxed my shoulders, knowing that he'll be on guard for other things as well. I glanced at the younger ones, catching his eyes and nodded in their direction. "Let them know to stick together from now on."

"Paranoid much?" Johns piped up, his shotgun resting on his shoulder. "Riddick is the only real threat we need to be concerned about."

I roll my eyes. "Of course, but we shouldn't be only on the look out for him."

"Better to be cautious," Fry sighed, pulling her scarf back up. "Then sorry. I don't want to get caught off guard by something else entirely."

"Exactly," I said, plucking the thread out and letting the wind carry it away. "We got nothing to lose in being extra vigilant."

"Fine, but unless I see evidence of something else that's more pressing," Johns said impatiently and gesturing vaguely. "Then I'm gonna keep my attention all on Riddick."

"Fair enough."

"Let's go," Johns said, turning and heading off. "There's nothing here but a pile of old bones."

We followed after him, going back into the same positions as before. Johns waited a good five minutes, marching a few paces in front of the group. Then he held up his hand. As the others waited, he hopped onto a low ridge and pulled out the scope to his eye. He scanned the boneyard, looking for something in particular.

I looked at where he was staring and noticed it was the same spot that he and Fry were 'alone.' I doubt he knew Riddick was there the entire time. But maybe he had a gut feeling that Riddick was still somewhere around. That he may have returned to the same spot when they left. And Johns has the need to check it one last time before we go. Or maybe there's another reason that he has to look, like he left something...

The bottle he left behind. Clever.

"Didn't bite," he muttered.

"What?"

Johns glanced at Fry and shook his head. Then he returned the scope to this eye and looked again.

It was still left untouched.

"Thought he might be coolin' it in the boneyard," Johns explained. "Could either double-back to the ship or slip in behind us. So I left the bottle out as bait."

I looked at Fry, wondering if she's finally caught on that Johns isn't someone to be underestimated. After all, if Riddick is such a big threat as Johns says he is than there might've been a reason as to why only Johns was sent to travel with him without backup. However, I still find that situation to be suspiciously strange.

Johns reluctantly came down from his perch. "But nah. He didn't bite," he mumbled, half-surprised.

We resumed our trek in silence.

I lagged behind a bit, sensing Riddick's faint heat-energy going in the other direction. It looks like he's going back to the fallen ship, while we head onward. I wonder if Johns had taken the trouble to retrace his steps, he would have found the scotch in his decoy bottle had been emptied and replaced with sand? I know I would have done just that, especially if I was in Riddick's position. Though, I suppose he could have also replace it with urine if the timing was right. That would've been gross, but hilarious if Johns did go back for it and almost drank it without smelling it first.

"Is something funny?" Johns asked, breaking the silence while keeping his eyes forward.

"No," I said, digging the glaive into the sand as I walked.