Duncan stayed crouched at the side of the building until his legs cramped. This wasn’t something that bothered him; he shifted silently from one foot to the other and flexed the powerful muscles until the cramp eased. His eyes swept everything around him, only to return to the middle of the square. He watched Theopoulis carefully of course, but admitted to himself that what really held his interest was Riddick.
He had already worked for Bishop for over ten years when he had first heard of the convict. Richard B. Riddick was just a kid of sixteen then; he wouldn’t have remembered him at all if not for the name he had made for himself as a brutal mass murderer and escaped convict later on in life. Bishop didn’t hunt convicts, he had already moved on to “special projects” as the Mercenary Guild called hunting its own by the time Riddick had made his reputation. Bishop wasn’t that sort of a merc anymore, and maybe Duncan wasn’t either but as he now stood at the side of the building and watched Riddick, he wondered.
Duncan had considered himself the best there was at what he did, but how was he to know for sure that in his time spent with Bishop that he hadn’t gone soft too? It was unthinkable and made him angry but he wasn’t a man that told himself lies. How was he to know for sure that he hadn’t gone soft?
Riddick towered over the others, massive and menacing, yet he let the old man unwrap the bandages and never once made a move that could be considered a threat. If Riddick was anything like him, he of course knew that he was surrounded, but Duncan didn’t think that was the whole tale. There was also the fact that both Riddick and Theopoulis had moved one of the women and a child in between them, to offer what little protection they could.
He found that interested him. From the records he had read of Theopoulis the man didn’t care much for his crew, and Duncan believed that, even if he did clearly seem to care deeply for other things. The dark haired woman stayed close to Riddick and Duncan assumed she was his. The child, with a shaved head and a broken pair of goggles on her head was also Riddick’s, clearly.
Duncan stared hard at Riddick, as though the truth of it could be seen on that emotionless face. The girl was clearly no more than thirteen, if that. He recalled what little he had read of Riddick over the years, as he kept his hand in. Rape was never mentioned, and Duncan doubted that’s what he saw right now. The dark haired woman looked like a handful in her own right, and all he had to do was look at how the kid looked up to Riddick to know that whatever the reason she was with him, Riddick didn’t look to be harming her. He had seen enough dirtbags in his time to know what to look for; the girl was a little thin, that was all. It just made him even more curious about Riddick.
He eased back along the side of the building as the first raindrops from the approaching storm scattered across the dry ground. He circled back around the village to where the mercs crouched where he had left them by the river. The tech officer looked shaken, and took a step towards him as he approached but he was otherwise unhurt, the papers and his equipment held under his jacket to protect it from the rain. Bishop’s eyes burned a cold blue as the skies blackened and the wind picked up; he had to raise his voice to be heard over it. “Is Theopoulis there?”
Duncan gazed evenly back at Bishop and felt himself smile; it never showed of course but that was hardly the point. He knew what he had felt from Bishop when they had entered the electromagnetic field. Lust and hatred. He wasn’t a man that lied to himself, so he knew that Bishop wanted him; he also knew that Bishop would kill him rather than have that come out or even admit it to himself. It was with this in mind that Duncan made no mention of Riddick’s presence, which would change everything and might give him the edge he needed. Bishop might have gone soft but Duncan wasn’t about to ignore Bishop’s ruthlessness, his cunning; Riddick would be his ace up his sleeve. “Theopoulis is there. The village is armed, so we wait until full dark to take him.” Wait until full dark, for Riddick.
—
Riddick scanned the surrounding buildings, as men lowered their rifles; it didn’t make him relax any. He couldn’t, not here amongst strangers, not with Shazza and Jack’s life, even Theo’s life, in the balance, to say nothing of his own. The old man, Thomas, held his hand in both of his, the gnarled fingers had run over them, the rope burns still fresh enough to be seen in the falling light. In another time or place he would never have allowed anyone to touch him that way.
Shazza watched Riddick’s face, cold and distant, as the old man held onto him; Riddick didn’t pull away. She knew that no one else would ever see it for what it was but the fact that Riddick let himself be touched at all meant everything. The old man didn’t look like Imam at all, but he had that same inner grace to him, that same feel of power held deep beneath the surface; she wondered and then knew that Riddick felt it too. She had watched quietly as Riddick had read the Koran early in the morning, when he thought everyone else was asleep. It was a deep respect for Imam that had him still now, she knew.
They stood awkwardly in the middle of the square, until Riddick eased his hand back gently. His stern countenance would give no sign that he felt anything at all. Another person would have backed down, but Shazza watched as Riddick turned to look at her and Jack before he turned back to the old man as the first fat raindrops at the forefront of the storm started to fall. “Are we going to stand around in the rain all day?” His voice was as cold as the rain, and carried across the electric air in the square.
Shazza watched as Old Thomas ignored the quiet gasps of both Joanne and Anna; instead he looked up at the stony face of Riddick and raised a grizzled eyebrow, the ghost of a smirk pulled up the corner of his mouth. ‘Good for you.’ He nodded and took Riddick’s arm again, this time to turn and point to a building with a low ceiling; he set off slowly towards it and expected that Riddick would allow it, which he did. Riddick cast one more glance at the men that had ringed the square, and took note of their lowered rifles. Shazza watched emotion flicker across Riddick’s face as he turned to make sure that she and Jack followed him; he froze out everyone else, but he couldn’t freeze her out. Or he wouldn’t.
She stayed close to him, her hand on his back to let him know that she was still there, as Old Thomas walked into the candlelit tavern. The muscles in Riddick’s back bunched and flexed under her hand and he lowered slightly as everything within him coiled, ready to spring; his eyes swept the room and drove back the men that had followed them in out of the rain. They now stood at the far end of the long hall, their weapons left at a cabinet at the front door that looked to have been made for just that purpose. Riddick lowered a little further as Old Thomas eased onto a low bench.
He turned fluidly to her, his hand possessive against her waist, to make it clear without another word that she was his, and they sat down on a bench opposite the old man. As the silence grew, Shazza thought about Riddick’s strange possessive behavior, and then realized that it was only strange because she looked at it through the lens of her own life, and not through his. A man in prison couldn’t very well lay claim to a lot of things in his life, even his body was often not his own. She didn’t imagine he would meet a lot of women in prison, and they would definitely not be ‘his’, not in the way that she was. Shazza pressed closer to his side and felt his hand tighten a little at her waist.
Jack sat beside her and Shazza realized that Riddick had positioned them again so that his body was between them and the men that faced them. She rested into his hand, safe in his protective embrace; that he would put himself between her and danger meant a lot to her. It wasn’t something she had seen often in her life, and not something she would expect from a man like Riddick. Theo stood behind the bench, with Joanne and Anna beside him. No one had asked that they disarm.
Riddick cast a hard look across the hall; he had noticed that some of the men had eyed Shazza carefully as they had walked into the hall. It had pissed him off, to have them look at her like that, and his hand pulled a little harder at her waist. The weight of her pressed against his side and he turned to set his eyes again on the old man. Shazza listened to the cruel tone of his voice as he spoke again and shuddered a little. If she was anyone else she would be terrified. “You called me ‘Rider’.” He didn’t continue, just tilted his head and watched the old man carefully.
Old Thomas harrumphed and adjusted himself before he began, his eyes cast first to Riddick, then Theo. “There is always the captain.” His hand shook as he waved it at Theo, and then, strangely, at Jack. “A ship must always have a captain, a steady hand to guide her. Olias was the greatest of them all. But a captain isn’t enough, a captain isn’t the heart of the ship and no matter how fine a captain he may be, he can never fly an airship by himself. Without the Rider, the ship is earthbound, she will never move.“
He reached out and took Riddick’s hand again and Shazza felt him tense as though he would pull it back; she had never realized just how little Riddick liked to be touched and it made her appreciate his affection with her even more. She felt him relax again and watched quietly as he extended his other hand for Old Thomas to take as well. His face held no emotion as he did it, but the act itself betrayed that; he offered the contact this time.
The old mans gnarled hands turned Riddick’s palms up to show the full extent of the damage that the ropes had inflicted as he pulled the ship. The parchment skin whispered over Riddick’s stronger ones; Riddick could break them so easily but he never moved. Shazza watched their faces and knew that goggles or no goggles, Old Thomas held Riddick’s hard glare.
“You felt it.”
It wasn’t a question, it was a declaration. Riddick didn’t answer, not in words anyway. His head tilted to the side and he seemed to move forward, to advance on the old man just a little. If they had stood, Riddick would have stepped within the man’s space, and waited for him to step back. Old Thomas nodded as though Riddick had answered clearly. “There is no one else, you are the Rider.”
“I don’t know what that means, old man.” Riddick slipped a little closer to Old Thomas, although his hands hadn’t moved. Shazza cast a nervous glance at the men on the far side of the hall only to look down again quickly when one of the men leered at her. It didn’t bother her, but she knew it would bother Riddick if he saw it. Her breath froze when Riddick’s head swiveled up with predatory grace to pin the very man that had looked at her. The man froze and moved behind a column. She felt Riddick’s thighs shift as he slid a little closer to Old Thomas. “And just what is it you believe I felt?”
Riddick had felt uneasy the moment the old man had spoken; he had listened and knew without a doubt that what the man had said was the truth, but it had unnerved him nonetheless. He had felt something when he had pulled the ship, he didn’t know what it was but it had felt right, like he was right where he was supposed to be, where he belonged.
“There is the captain, and there is the Rider. You are the Rider. The ship cannot run without you. You know this, you felt it, you felt her running through your veins as you ran before her. You know.” Old Thomas released Riddick’s hands, and turned his own palms over to rest them in Riddick’s hands. The scars were old and had been healed over for a very long time. They were faint and pale; the twisted cords ran across his palms and around his wrists. Like Riddick’s own wounds. “You know.”
Riddick held the old man’s hands and saw him as a much younger man, as he pulled the ship. He remembered what it was like, the incredible power of it as he felt connected to everything. “You were one too.”
“I left her where she slept, almost sixty years ago. And now she is yours.” Not Theo’s but his; he had known this too, when he had pulled the ship. He hadn’t wanted to say anything aloud about it; he hadn’t even wanted to think it, but knew it was the absolute truth. He tore his eyes off the old man to look over his shoulder at Theo. He had expected to see some level of disappointment but Theo just nodded, he knew it was the truth too.
Riddick wanted to ask why, and what for; there were just too many questions and he didn’t want to ask them here. He could hear the sky open up outside and he wanted to be gone. There were too many people here; he wanted them to return to the ship where it was easier to defend Shazza and Jack. He eased back and let go of Old Thomas’ hands carefully. Riddick scanned the room again and gave a hard look at the man that had leered at Shazza before; he had stepped back out from his spot behind the pillar.
Shazza felt enveloped by Riddick as he stood over her, his hand remained possessively on her waist. “We’re leaving now.” There was no room for complaint or question. He wasn’t angry at her but she felt the aggression in him as it seemed to thicken the air around him. It took Old Thomas a little longer to get to his feet but he stood before Riddick again; he patted Riddick’s arm before he walked out into the hall, his stooped figure between them and the men at the end of the hall. Riddick kept Shazza held at his side as they walked out into the rain; he gave the man that had eyed Shazza another hard glare and raised his goggles to full effect as the man shrank back.
“Are you going to leave?” Jack turned at the pull on her shirt, to find Anna behind her, nearly in tears. The girl was a pain in the ass, but it hurt Jack to see her, as a tear fattened on the verge of her lashes to spill down her cheek.
“I…” She didn’t know what to say, and turned toward Riddick for an answer. His expression was so cold that it stole the question from her for a moment. Her voice trembled once before she summoned up the nerve to ask him. “Are we leaving, Riddick?”
He didn’t like that he had frightened her but didn’t see anything for it right now. He had felt…something; he wasn’t sure what, but he wanted to be gone. He turned and gave another hard glare at the man that had leered at Shazza before he answered, his eyed pinned the man where he stood. “We’ll be at the ship.” The corners of his mouth pulled up, but it could in no way be considered a smile.
—
Johns had tried repeatedly to get a signal out when they got back to the ship. He had timed the clearing to once every twenty four minutes, for a space of less than thirty seconds. He had thought that Bishop would kill him when Duncan left; he had advanced on him, and told him to get a signal out, or else. ‘Duncan won’t be here to protect you forever.’ Johns kept his expression neutral when Bishop said it, but the words played over and over in his mind; Bishop would kill Duncan, and once Duncan was dead, so was he. So he made a good show; he timed the pulse and set out to get a message out, but he didn’t try too hard, at least until he got word from Duncan.
He watched across the room as Duncan sketched out a diagram of the village, and where he believed Theopoulis would be. The other mercs around the table would interject with questions about strategy, numbers and weaponry. Bishop stood against the bulkhead, his arms crossed sternly across the chest; he appeared to be intent on the whole conversation, but Johns watched and from where he sat, Bishop bored holes into the back of Duncan’s head.
Another signal attempt failed, he didn’t know whether to be concerned or relieved, but set his watch for the next burst and watched the table again. Whatever happened would happen tonight.
—
Riddick was silent on the return to the Moorglade and the tension grew in the silence until it could be felt, breathed in. He would stop and listen; his silver eyeshine glinted dully in the falling rain. Shazza didn’t want to admit it to herself but she was afraid of him right now, even Jack was silent. He eased, but only a little, when they reached the ship and were safely back on deck. He told Theo and Jack to stay dressed and armed, to sleep, and he would take the first watch. Shazza couldn’t help but notice that he hadn’t included her in that demand. She stayed on deck, a short distance away from him underneath the eave where it was dry.
He waited until they were the only ones left on deck before he advanced on her and pinned her to the side of the cabin. His eyes were intense, whatever cold they had held the rest of the night was gone now; they burned into her. He bit at his lower lip; it was odd to think of it as a nervous habit, it seemed more an effort to hold something in. His body pressed to hers and his hands released their hold on her arms to slip over her throat and cup her face. He stood so closely that his breath fanned over her cheek, fast and shallow. ‘He’s nervous.’ It was such a strange way to imagine him that curiosity overtook her fear; she couldn’t understand why he would be nervous. About anything.
“You’re mine, Shazza.” He had stated it simply, as though there could be no answer, but Shazza heard the question in it anyway, and it dawned on her. The men that had looked at her were a threat in more ways than one. How many things had been taken from Riddick in his life? How many things had ever really been his?
She was his, not because he had the power to insist, but because he had come back for her. For her it would forever come down to that one moment, when he held her face in his hands much as he did now, and asked her to trust him. He came back for her, and she was his, fully and completely. “I will be yours as long as you’ll have me Riddick.” He held her carefully, some of the menace in him faded, and his thumb stroked over her cheek again, as it had then, before he leaned in to kiss her.
—
Joanne lifted her skirt up and ran again. She ignored the sting of branches that tore at her dress and skin as she ran down the trail out into the grass. Her mind whirled in terror and the screams of the others filled her head until she could hear nothing else. She couldn’t see where she ran in the dark, and even in daylight her tears would have blinded her. She fell, and got up and ran, only to fall again, terrified. ‘Please let them still be there, please…’ Her thoughts dissolved into hysteria again and drove her faster.
Riddick heard her long before she reached the ship and had gently moved his arm from around Shazza as she slept out on the deck with him as he watched. He jumped down silently and gracefully over the railing to land in the grass just as Joanne fell again, to be caught by him before she landed. She flailed at him in terror, her eyes wide as she screamed. “Anna! Oh god please help me, they have Anna!”
Copyright © November 2006 xxxevilgrinxxx