Rider 31

Duncan had always known that it would come down to this moment. Bishop had been haunted in one way or another by that first encounter between them for the last twenty years. Everything had slipped out of control, a blend of accident and design. Duncan was not a man that thought of fate, or he would accept that they had been destined for this.

Duncan uncoiled from the wall with his knife out and they circled each other in the open space between the two buildings. Duncan looked away only once, to watch the merc up ahead as he returned fire from the villagers beyond. Bishop had two people other than Duncan to worry about but he was past the point of care, all he saw was Duncan.

Neither of them flinched at the dull thump of an explosion from the other side of the village, the only thing that existed for them was each other. Duncan circled close enough to brush against Bishop’s arm, to tap the firearm that he still held. His voice dropped to a sultry whisper that could only be heard by Bishop over the downpour that soaked them both to the skin. “You know you don’t want to do it that way Bishop, you want to get close enough to do it yourself.”

He felt Bishop tremble under the touch and he uttered a barely audible moan at the words whispered nearly in his ear. Duncan knew that Bishop couldn’t resist it; if it was anything but that one thing that he dangled before his eyes, if it was anyone but him, he knew that Bishop would shoot him dead without a second thought. This was different.

Their boots splashed in the shallow puddles that had started to form, and the rain shut everything else out. Bishop dropped his eyes to look at the weapon in his hand and Duncan tensed. For a second there it looked like he had misjudged and that Bishop would just shoot him anyway. Then Bishop grinned coldly and tucked the weapon into the holster at his thigh and pulled his own knife. Duncan thought about his own firearm in its holster and knew that Bishop wouldn’t go for his now; he knew that Duncan was faster.

Bishop ignored the rain that ran through his hair into his eyes and grinned wider as he made a feint towards Duncan. It was easily dodged but he let their wet bodies touch, his chest brushed against Bishops’ arm, followed by the blade which left a bleeding gash in its wake before he eased around to circle Bishop again.

The blood washed clear easily and in the cold rain the blood slowed quickly. Duncan watched as Bishop covered the slash on his arm and winced against the sting as he came around Bishop’s back and cut the tendons in his knife arm with a flick of his blade.

The lone merc stopped firing at the villagers on the other side of the square and watched the knife fight between the two men, his eyes darted from one to the other, his hand on his weapon tentative. ‘Who would he shoot if given the chance’ Duncan wondered. He knew the men hated and feared Bishop, but Bishop was still a pay cheque and the man was still a mercenary with all that entailed.

Duncan kept the man in his sights as Bishop lunged at him and managed to cut him across his hip. It hurt like hell but it allowed him to get closer to Bishop. It wasn’t the way he would have done it if it was anyone else, but this was Bishop, and as much as he disliked the man, he deserved something more. Twenty years was a long time to wait.

Their chests touched, a subtle burst of heat in the frigid rain. Bishop faltered, suddenly unsure when Duncan was so close. Their faces nearly touched and Duncan’s cold grey eyes held Bishop’s blue ones. It was over, a twenty year span from one breath to the next, to bring Bishop back full circle to that day so long ago.

Bishop could no longer hold the knife; he could no longer raise his arm to wield it. He tried to reach for the weapon strapped to his thigh but the muscles wouldn’t respond any more. Duncan leaned in a little closer, his nose brushed against Bishop’s. “This is what you want?” The question was a whisper, a breath that only Bishop could hear, but Bishop couldn’t answer anymore. Even now he couldn’t face what he wanted.

Duncan leaned in further and his lips settled on Bishop’s, whose own mouth parted at the long desired intrusion. The taste was male and strong, and then it was gone, as Duncan pulled the blade out of Bishop’s chest. The death was quick, and relatively clean. It was fitting that it was a damaged heart that killed him.

Duncan looked up to the lone merc as he stood against the side of the building, his eyes were cold, and measured up the other man quickly. Would he shoot, or not. Would Duncan have to kill him, or not. The merc lowered his weapon. “Help me move him.” Duncan held Bishop under the arms as the merc helped carry him under the eave, out of the rain and mud. He patted his cheek before he stood again. “Goodbye, old friend.”
—
Joanne’s nerves were shattered, she fought against the strong arms of Theo and the smaller hands of Jack but there was no conviction in it, she was distraught to the point of exhaustion. Anna was gone, pulled from her arms in a fiery hell of explosions and enraged men. Everything had gone dark for a while as she lay still beneath the bodies, unable to move, her husband’s eyes stared back at her, empty.

He was dead, and Anna was gone. She fought to get to her feet again and with an enraged mother’s strength had pushed along the rain slick deck. Theo and Jack pulled at her and managed to prevent a leap over the side. “Anna!” She screamed her daughter’s name over and over again in fury now as she fought them both.

“Fuck, Jack, we have to get her down below before she hurts herself!” Theo had been gentle with her, maybe more than he would be with anyone else, but if she ended up over the side not only would she hurt herself, but it would mean that he had to go over the side after her, and that would leave Jack undefended. He wouldn’t do that, and not only because Riddick would kill him for it. He had to defend Jack now too, and there was no room for him to be as gentle with Joanne as he would like.

Theo pulled her roughly up by the waist and threw her over his shoulder which only made her angrier. He yelled out to Jack as she ran ahead of him on the deck, after she saw what he intended. “Open the door, Jack!”

Jack opened first the door to the bridge and then let Theo ahead of her as she followed him down the stairs. She pulled Joanne’s hands free from the railings, and from the door posts, and felt slightly guilty every time she did it. She cried over and over for her daughter and every time she did it, Jack broke a little more. Anna was so much younger than Jack, in a lot of ways. She couldn’t bear to think that Anna would have to go through anything that she had gone through, it would kill the girl, who was clearly loved and was probably not used to bad treatment in the first place. Her voice shook and she started to cry but she struggled to find force and conviction within her. “Riddick will bring her back, Joanne.” She felt an ache in her heart when she wondered if it was too late already, but the hurt made her hope all the harder for Riddick. “He’ll find her, and he’ll make whoever took her pay for it.”

It was the anger in that young voice that reached Joanne at last. “Will he kill them?” Theo never stopped and moved down the hall towards his own room, there really was nowhere else for her; the one spare room on the ship had been used as a sort of makeshift gym for Riddick. Jack just nodded, she knew Riddick would, she had no doubt about that.

Theo set Joanne down and stood frozen in the doorway as he tried to think of what to do now. It didn’t feel right to just lock her in and walk away; Joanne was furious but she was also frightened and terribly hurt. Her daughter was gone, and she had run out here alone. Something had clearly happened to her husband or she would be with him, instead of here. He couldn’t just lock her in his room and walk away from her, but he couldn’t leave Jack either. There was trouble here, serious trouble, and they needed to be on deck to take care of it if it showed up.

Jack took the decision out of his hands; she turned on her heel and strode down the corridor and up onto the bridge towards the cabinet that served as their weapons locker. She took out the smaller weapons that she felt secure enough to use. Armed with two of them, plus her dart gun and the knife that Riddick had trusted her with, she went back up on deck. She wouldn’t say she was unafraid, because that wasn’t the truth, but there was a determination there that swept her fear aside for the moment. They depended upon her and she would not let them down.

It was dark out on the rain swept deck, despite the lights that had been set on either side of the ship. Riddick didn’t need them, so he had them turned so low that they barely cast a pale circle on the deck. Jack flung the strap from the weapons’ harness across her chest and got used to the uncomfortable weight of it. She had never used such a weapon and took a moment to look down at it; it seemed simple enough. ‘What could possibly go wrong, right?’ She thought to herself with a wry chuckle. She had seen things get as bad as they could in her life, and now they weren’t happening to her but to a little girl that likely had no experience with it. That was enough to still her fears. She circled the deck and turned the lights up bright enough for her to see whatever she needed to see, took a deep breath, and steeled herself against she knew not what.

Down below, Theo stood in the doorway and watched Joanne. She was sodden and her clothes were torn and there were leaves and twigs in her hair. He thought about Jack up on the deck and gritted his teeth for what he would have to say. He held Joanne by her shoulders before he began, “I can’t leave Jack up on the deck by herself, she’s not much older than your Anna.” He hated to see her flinch when he said it, but he had to drive home the point that no matter how brave Jack was, she was still a very young girl. “I don’t know what to do, Joanne, but I won’t risk you being hurt, or hurting yourself. I don’t want to lock you in here but…”

“No!” Joanne screamed and pushed against him but he held her fast. She was strong; a life here without modern conveniences had hardened her muscles and her will to fight, but he was stronger. “Don’t you dare lock me in here!” Her fury grew and she screamed for her daughter again.

“Enough!” Theo hated to yell at her, but there was nothing for it now. “You held a rifle when you first saw us. Would you have shot us?” He didn’t think she would; she wasn’t made of the same stuff as Shazza but maybe tonight had changed that for the moment.

He watched her as she eyed him suspiciously, as she tried to gauge his intent. “I…I don’t know. About then, that is. I know I would do it now.” The fire sparked back in her eyes when she said it and he knew she spoke the truth.

“Riddick WILL bring your daughter back, but I need to protect Jack, I can’t be worrying about you doing something stupid and going over the side. You’ll put Riddick and Shazza, as well as your daughter at risk if you do it. Your daughter is going to need you, when she gets back, and you can’t do that if you do something stupid and run out into the night.” He held her hard when he said it; Anna would need her, and he didn’t want to say why, and she didn’t want him to say why either. Her breath hitched once, as the horrible truth of it fell on her, to shatter her world. She wanted to fall on the floor and wail, to rip her hair out and scream, but that wouldn’t do anything for her daughter. She knew that Theo would lock her up here, if she couldn’t pull it together. Her daughter would need her. She nodded and her hand ran up to the scar that had forever destroyed her face and taken her eye. She had been raped repeatedly, before she had come here, to live with Marcus, the man who had loved her and gave her a daughter. She would try to hold it together.

Theo held onto her arm as he moved past her to grab a jacket that hung on a peg inside his room; he held it out for her as she put it on, close enough to smell her hair. It didn’t matter that it had twigs and leaves in it, she smelled beautiful. His heart hurt at her loss, and he swallowed the dread, the fear for the fate of her little girl. He handed her a mid sized weapon on the way out to the deck and they went out to stand with Jack, to await the return of Riddick and Shazza and, he prayed, Anna as well.
—

Shazza kept up with him, despite the darkness and his relentless pace, and Riddick was impressed. It’s not that he deliberately pushed her; he just didn’t go easy on her. She fell once but that didn’t surprise him, she couldn’t see where she went. The fact that she fell only once in the entire run to the village impressed him more. She followed well; that wasn’t a bad trait, it wasn’t weakness. She knew he was better and could see, so she followed. ‘Smart, very smart.’

They had spotted the fire first, its oily smoke low to the ground, beaten down by the torrential rain. One explosion and then another, had them both crouch low and then advance again slowly, ever forward. He looked back to see her eyes bright, she was afraid, but it didn’t stop her. It was the point of no return. “If you can’t do this, you can still go back now, before the going gets bad.” Her face hardened, the steel in her honed to a fine edge. She shook her head and a scattering of large drops was shed from her hair. She panted lightly but her hands didn’t shake and she wasn’t winded; he nodded imperceptibly to himself and edged into the village itself.

Shazza stayed close to Riddick and they both moved as one along the first shattered building. He had tensed slightly and run his hand over spots in the grass, broken and trampled. Predatory, he crept into the village like a wraith and she followed suit, low to the ground, in his footsteps. They crouched lower as shapes flitted through the darkness, across the village. “Fucking mercs.” Shazza tensed behind him as he said it and she wondered for a moment how he knew. She didn’t doubt his judgment, she just wondered is all.

Her knuckles whitened on the bone knife and she leaned in to whisper against his side, crouched behind him. “Where would they keep her?”

“Not sure who’s got her.” Her head tilted at that; she thought that he would automatically go after the mercs but that didn’t appear to be the case. She watched him as he closed his eyes and raised his nose; her hand rested on his back and she could feel his inhale as he scented the air. It fascinated her; all she could smell was smoke and the wet smell of wood.

“Mercs are bastards, but this looks like something else.” He crouched even lower and with the tip of his own knife, pointed out to her the different mercs. One group appeared to have no weapons with them, and another appeared to have heavier weaponry. “At least two teams, one came through the grass here, where we did. Another circled farther, their paths crossed ours. Figure they went around.” His hands made a small pincer movement and she nodded in understanding. “There would be another team there…” He pointed across the square at where he thought the third team would be. “They wanted to flush someone out and I don’t think it’s some little girl.”

Shazza looked to him and her face lit with fear, she couldn’t lose him now. She remembered the sight of him restrained and her eyes teared up and she bit her lip against the sting of tears, her grip on the knife tightened. She would kill to keep that from happening; she would kill and not bat an eyelash. Riddick reached over and touched her face with the hand that held his shiv, a gentle caress out of character with the weapon he held. “If they came for me Shazza, they would have brought more people.” She watched him carefully and listened to the humor in his voice, and grinned back at the subtle arrogance in his face, pleased that he let it show. “They didn’t come for me, this is something professional. I’ve been thinking about it since we ran into Theo, since he blew those ships. They’re after Theo.”

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