Seven
Suleiman, Hassan and Ali scrambled ahead as they were already familiar with much of the canyon and the eerie sounds didn’t disturb them any longer. Imam would occasionally walk with them, then sit at the side of the canyon, and wait for the others. It started to get on Johns’ nerves that the man seemed so calm and at ease; as if he didn’t seem to care where they were. Imam trusted. He trusted in Allah, in himself, and those around him.
Johns and Fry stayed very close to each other, and talked quietly. It was small talk mostly but the end result was that Fry became even closer to Johns and felt even more distant from those around her, and in return, the others distanced themselves from them.
With the exception of Paris, who proceeded to get drunker the farther into the canyon they progressed. He stayed behind Johns and Fry and talked nearly nonstop.
Shazza and Jack walked closely together, although they didn’t talk much. There were too many things in their pasts that made casual conversation difficult; truths that once out, could never be put back. They both thought the other was perfect company.
Riddick walked behind them at a steady pace. He faltered once or twice over some rough terrain but never once complained at being turned into a beast of burden by Johns, he just continued on, with his head down, as if no one else was there.
Shazza muttered under her breath about Johns, and his arrogance, about his belief that he could ‘just snap his fingers and make Riddick, or any of them, into something else.’
Jack was possibly the only person that could hear her but he didn’t say anything about it. It was obvious that Jack had also made a choice.
Shazza fingered the breather that she had set aside for Riddick, secreted in the bag she carried over her shoulder. She knew that she would have to wait until Johns was no longer in sight before she could give it to him, but Riddicks’ every labored breath behind her made her feel heavy with guilt just for being able to breathe.
Imam fell in beside Jack and Shazza. Jack seemed to take great comfort from him, although he would be hard pressed to understand why, he didn’t trust easily. “You’re on your way to New Mecca, right?” Imam continued to walk, his arm comfortably around Jack’s shoulders which made Jack feel incredibly safe, as though a weight had been lifted from him.
Imam looked around him, at the survivors, at the fossilized remains, at the canyon, he took all of it in. “Once every lifetime there should be a great Hajj. To get to know Allah better, yes. But to get to know yourself better as well. We are all on the same Hajj now.” Imam patted Jack’s shoulder and walked towards the three boys as they played ahead as though he didn’t have a care in the world.
Shazza, Riddick and Jack had been quiet before, but now they walked in complete silence as they digested what Imam had said. ‘We are all on the same Hajj now.’
“Damn.” Paris muttered as he dropped the bottle of wine he had been carrying. He almost seemed annoyed as he retraced his steps and reached down to pick up the bottle only to be stopped in his tracks as a very large hand picked up the bottle from the soft ground. “That’s a particularly nice Shiraz….”
Paris grimaced as Riddick looked at him, his expression unreadable behind his goggles. He hid his revulsion poorly, he was disgusted at the thought of someone like Riddick, who had probably only ever drank swill that came with a screw top, if that, was even touching such a fine bottle of wine.
His grimace spread a little wider when he racked up the cost, as he watched Riddick tilt his head up and drink down the remainder of the bottle in one long pull. “Paris P. Ogilvie, antiquities dealer, entrepreneur.” He held his hand out to Riddick, but there was no honesty in the gesture; it was an attempt to put Riddick in ‘his place’, wherever that might be.
Shazza and Jack turned back to watch. Riddick shook his hand and responded calmly, almost jovially, with “Richard B. Riddick. Escaped convict. Murderer.” As though the conversation had occurred in some completely normal place, rather than at the back of a rag tag group of survivors, with Riddick as their beast of burden.
Paris scuttled back to the comforting company of Fry and Johns. Shazza looked back once and grinned at Riddick, he found himself grinning back at her, at both what he had said, and that he had made her smile.
They all froze at the edge of the canyon when they caught the first glimpse of the settlement. It was as if they couldn’t believe that it could possibly be real, as if they waited for it to shimmer in the sun and vanish like a mirage. They stood and looked at it for what felt like forever although it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.
Jack and the three boys ran ahead, driven by their sense of youthful adventure and excitement, despite being called back by the rest of the survivors. Even Riddick called out to Jack to come back, his voice a harsh command that echoed across the sun-baked ground. Jack looked back once, before he broke into a huge grin and followed the boys into the settlement, and disappeared from view.
If anything the survivors were even more unnerved by the empty buildings than they were by the skeletal remains in the canyon. All of the buildings looked as though they had been abandoned for a long time, maybe decades. They were worn and damaged, and some of them looked as though they had suffered explosions or some other disaster that had pulled the corrugated metal roofs out in strange shapes.
Shazza had been about to stick her head into a darkened building that had a huge hole torn in the side but was stopped when Riddick pulled her back. He didn’t say a word, just held her arm and shook his head ‘no’ at her. At another time that might have pissed her off, but this place had her spooked too. She swallowed hard as the knot crept into her belly; there was something terribly wrong here.
Riddick looked over again at Shazza, as she grew more unsettled the longer she was apart from Jack. He had taken his eyes off Jack for a space of seconds, when he kept Shazza from going into the abandoned building, and once he knew she wouldn’t get angry and do it anyway, his eyes sought out Jack again.
He touched her arm and then pointed to Jack who walked along the side of one of the buildings and watched her visibly relax. “Whatever’s done this appears to be gone.” He spoke quietly, so that only she could hear, and was glad when he could go back to watching out for Jack.
Jack had trailed after the three boys but made a point to keep Shazza and Riddick in sight. He had the feeling that if Riddick really didn’t want him to run off, he would have dragged him back, so he just made sure he stayed in sight. That and he didn’t speak Arabic, and aside from giving his name, and a conversation that was like a game of charades, he had no real way to talk to the boys.
He looked over once to catch Riddick as he touched Shazza’s arm and pointed him out. Not only had they looked for him, but they cared when they found him, the relief was clear on Shazza’s face.
Jack froze as he watched them, as they watched him. He knew that no one ‘back home’ would miss him, no one apart from these two strangers that he had found himself with. Years ago that would have made him sad enough to break, but now he took joy where he found it.
He waggled his fingers at them before he ran up beside the boys who were circling a piece of machinery and chattering excitedly. Imam joined them and told everyone else that it was some sort of a water generator, or deep well. Something, Jack didn’t quite understand it, but the boys, nephews of a Saudi water desalination baron, may just know enough between them to get the thing to run.
Jack snuck a look back at Shazza and Riddick as they trailed behind the others towards the machinery. He had a lump in his throat when he noticed that they watched him the whole time.