Ch 40
Duncan looked back into the darkened ship to watch Johns run a hand over his face, shaken. He had held it together when he needed to, but it wasn’t something to which he was accustomed, even as crew on a merc vessel.
Duncan stalked the big merc silently, although he didn’t have to. Jacobs muttered and swore as he stomped out of the ship into the forest beyond and made more than enough noise to cover any advance. Jacobs stopped and backtracked several times; unable to find the trail they had used previously to reach the village. It wasn’t hard to guess at Jacobs’ destination; it wasn’t like there were a whole lot of places for him to go.
Jacobs, and Shapiro, the weapons specialist that had also left after they had spoken and decided to take their chances with the villagers. All of them had been affected by this place and he wondered if that was any less for Jacobs and Shapiro, who would avoid a Company ship to stay here.
He would have to catch up with Shapiro later; he didn’t want to leave Johns on his own for too much longer. Jacobs’ anger made him easy to track in the dark; he cursed loudly as he slipped on the path beside the riverbank.
Duncan eased around the wide bole of a tree and came up beside Jacobs to slit through his vest. The knife found its way easily along the merc’s ribs and Jacobs screamed, a sharp startled sound. He hadn’t heard Duncan at all, which didn’t surprise Duncan.
The knife wound itself wouldn’t kill him, at least not immediately, although it would surely do that without medical attention. The curses from the merc intensified as he turned this way and that to see who had cut him. “Where’s Shapiro?”
Jacobs spun around, his teeth bared as he let fly with another stream of curses, his voice sounded less sure. Duncan snorted; Shapiro had apparently left on his own, he had left Jacobs. “He left you here in the dark, what do you care where he is or what happens to him, Jacobs?” Duncan’s voice was rationality personified, as he stayed in motion, always close enough to Jacobs to kill him easily.
Jacobs stumbled in the mud again, his footing unsteady on the rain slick path. “Fuck you, Duncan; you won’t be in charge for long. That Company ship will be here soon, and then you’re fucked, they’re not gonna give a shit what you want.”
Duncan nearly laughed, amused at the thought that Jacobs and Shapiro had done this for the same reasons he had gone to Riddick. They didn’t want to have to deal with the Company ship either, and weren’t about to be dragged back. “Wasn’t planning on asking the Company what they wanted, Jacobs.” He could have told him of his plans for the Company ship, but he knew that he could never trust Jacobs, or Shapiro. At the end they had chosen to mutiny, and were no longer part of the group.
Jacobs huffed and held his side in an attempt to staunch the wound there; his voice took on a pleading tone. “You can’t fight the Company, all we can do is keep the fuck away from them until they’re satisfied and leave. Then this place is ours.”
Duncan would have killed him anyway; he wouldn’t have followed him out there at all, he wouldn’t have bled him, unless he had intended to kill him. That he had mutinied was bad enough, but what enraged him was Jacobs’ callous disregard for this place. That he would easily hand it over, even for a short while, and for what? Power? Greed?
Duncan set aside the game he had set out to play, and lunged at Jacobs. Even uninjured Jacobs would not have been able to stop Duncan’s attack, and he didn’t stand a chance now. The blade drove up under Jacobs’ ribs, to seek the heart; a twist to the right and it was done. A quicker, cleaner death that he deserved.
He still didn’t know where Shapiro was, but he was sure he would show himself soon enough. In fact, it may be an advantage to take care of the rogue villagers before the Company ship arrived. Shapiro, the weapons specialist, would want the ship’s weapons before the Company ship arrived.
Duncan took one last look at the body of Jacobs, as he bled into the muck, before he kicked him hard and sent him into the river. He waited until the current pulled him away before he turned back towards the ship.
Johns turned, weapon drawn, when Duncan stepped back into the open bay of their downed ship. Duncan found that he was strangely moved at the wide smile, when Johns realized who he was, a lot of men would have felt dread. Johns holstered the weapon and crossed the open floor, to stop a few steps away, where he composed himself again. Duncan advanced and took his hand anyway, a fleeting gesture that meant more. “Good to see you again, Johns. You handled that well.”
Johns’ brow furrowed for a moment in confusion before he nodded. “Jacobs?” Duncan just shook his head no; Johns didn’t look very surprised that the big merc was dead. “Shapiro?”
“Soon enough. It might play into our hands to have him with the villagers for the moment.” Duncan looked around at the men that were left and turned to Johns again. “What’s our situation?”
He listened to the strain in Johns’ voice as he spoke about the death of two of the injured that had remained with the ship. The injured merc that they had brought back from the village had also died. Five injured mercs remained. There was the medic of course; and Abrams and Mitchell, the two mercs that had covered Johns in his confrontation with Jacobs. If the medic was willing to use a weapon, and he had shown that he was willing, then they had five men in total that were able to fight. Only four would be willing to leave the ship; Duncan didn’t believe that the medic would leave the injured men that were left but would stay to defend them.
It wasn’t enough to fight out in the open, but much of their ship was still intact, along with its weaponry. They would stay here, in the forest, and fight until Riddick came back. Duncan didn’t question that Riddick would come back but took it on faith that he would.
—
“The whole ship is a weapon?” Riddick found that this idea fascinated him and he listened attentively when Jack explained what she had found in Old Thomas’ papers. They had walked along the deck of the ship as she explained and pointed out the metal clips. When she spoke it was hard to think of her as only being twelve; she had understood the meaning and implications of what she had read and passed them on in a way that was easy to understand. ‘Old Thomas was right to look at her as a captain too; she gets this ship almost as much as Theo does.’
They had walked up to the prow of the ship, to look over the edge. There were worn spots in the deck that showed where many people had stood before and Jack stood in them, as she showed how the ‘spears’ were used. If he hadn’t felt the power of the ley lines run through him he would have discounted it and settled for a pulse rifle. It was harder for Jack to explain what she had seen at the end of her reading; the figure in white flame that would stand where she stood now. Riddick watched her carefully as worry and uncertainty crossed her face, before he eased back down the deck again, away from the prow, and she followed him. Jack relaxed once more and he was happy for that. “You tired, Jack?”
She looked up at him and stifled a yawn with the cuff of her shirt. She snorted and rubbed her hand over her eyes, “I wasn’t until you said that. I don’t want to go to sleep just yet; I wanted to show you what I found.” Riddick nodded to Theo as they passed on deck and followed Jack down into the cabins. “I found these when I was looking for dry clothes.” He took a deep breath as he thought of Shazza’s dress again, and then they were in the spare cabin.
“You didn’t move all this shit by yourself, did you?” A lot of the boxes looked too heavy for her; if he had known she had been down here moving them he would have been pissed off at her. She could have been injured. He stopped himself before he reamed her out for it; he could see by the expression on her face that she expected him to do just that. She had started to close herself off, and that hurt a little; more than he had thought was possible. He rested his hand on her shoulder as he turned to see exactly what she had moved. “That shit’s fucking heavy, Jack. Not bad.” He grinned at her as she blushed and dropped her head, and then he started to move a few boxes out of the way. “What’s in all of these anyway?”
He helped her move some of the boxes around, and she opened the one that she had found the dresses in earlier. “They have some other stuff in the bottom, but it didn’t look all that practical.” Jack blushed when she said it, and he smirked at her again as he moved aside some of the dresses to see what was in the bottom. It definitely wasn’t practical, and he wasn’t sure if he preferred Shazza naked under what she wore, or if he would prefer this.
“Thanks, Jack.” He made a note to move the trunk into their room. They rearranged more boxes until Jack pulled out what she had looked for.
“I don’t think you should touch them, Riddick.” They both knelt on the floor over the opened trunk with the spear tips. They were as long as his forearm, and etched in intricate damascene scrollwork. Jack looked up at his hissed intake of breath.
He had always loved weapons, even as a very young kid. Most of the time he settled for what was at hand, because there was seldom a choice, but it didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate true beauty when he saw it, and these were beautiful. He wouldn’t touch them; Jack was right, he didn’t know how long it had been since they had been used but they still glowed faintly with power under his enhanced sight.
“They still hold some sort of a charge.” Jack tilted her head and looked at him and he reached out to take her wrist and held it just over the spear tips. “Do you feel it?”
“It’s tickly. They would need to be charged, right? How long would that take?” Jack asked a few more questions, but it was as if she asked herself and, after a few moments, he let her answer her own questions as she got up and paced.
He closed the trunk again and carried it up to the bridge, along with the lengths of fine chain that would be required to charge the spear tips. Jack couldn’t hide her yawn this time but he waited for her to say that she was ready to go to bed, rather than tell her to, and grinned at her as she shuffled back to her own quarters. ‘Too tired to kill Anna.’
The cool morning air was tinged with the palest light of dawn when he brought two cups of coffee up to the deck and gave one to Theo. “We should move soon. Did Joanne tell you where the next village is?”
Theo looked out over the grass and smiled at the sound of Joanne’s name; she would be asleep in his bed right now. If he closed his eyes he could picture her. “She gave me a general direction, but I didn’t need it.” Riddick didn’t ask, he just tilted his head to the side slightly. “Old Thomas had charts in the papers you brought back with you.” He took another pull of his coffee and turned to face Riddick; he hadn’t thanked Riddick for having the foresight to bring those papers, but he figured what he had to say would do. “Thomas mapped the whole of Trieste Nine. All of it. I don’t know how out of date it might be but he’s marked out villages and the ley lines too.”
Riddick stood silently and looked out over the grass as the sun’s first rays touched it from under the tattered blanket of storm clouds. Fate. He couldn’t shake it but it felt as though he was right where he was supposed to be, and that everything moved according to a deeper plan. That he was a last piece. That wasn’t completely true though. Jack was as well, and Theo himself. The image of his own dream came back to him, of Shazza. It wasn’t one he wanted to face. “How long will it take to get to the next village?”
Theo carefully eyed Riddick’s expression. As Shazza had already discovered, Theo knew that when Riddick showed no emotion is exactly when he experienced it. He didn’t say anything and he didn’t ask; he knew Riddick would say nothing. “A few hours at the most, I’m thinking. I don’t know how fast she’ll go without a full wind at her back.”
Riddick grinned at the affection in Theo’s voice when he spoke of the ship. “We need to be back in two days, to meet up with Warfield.”
Theo’s knuckles bled white against the railing of the ship and his mouth was a hard slash at the mention of the merc hunter’s name. He turned away, but too late; Riddick wouldn’t have missed it anyway, he knew.
“Is it a problem, Theo?” Riddick spoke quietly and there was no challenge in his voice.
“No. We’ll need him, if he’s right and that ship’s coming.” He hated that he had to trust the merc hunter but he didn’t see that they had much of a choice. “I can’t see him coming out here on his own, unarmed, on some sort of a lark. From what I’ve heard, Warfield is as serious as a heart attack. Which means this is on.”
“We can reach the village and start warning people about what’s coming. With any luck we’ll sign a few on. Warfield didn’t have many people left after the landing and the raid on the village; we’ll need more people.” Riddick knew that once the Company ship was on the ground that it didn’t matter how many the Company sent, they would be at a disadvantage. But people still had to be warned, and people would still be needed to hunt down anyone that was left. Theo looked deadly serious as he glared out over the rail. “And we’ll need to pick up a few supplies anyway. I just made the last of the coffee.”
“Damn, that is serious.” Theo dropped his head and snorted, the tension in him drained. “Should I go wake up Jack before we get off the ground?”
Riddick finished the rest of his coffee and chuckled. “Let her sleep.” He left out that she just might kill Anna if she couldn’t. “I’ll get Shazza to stay on the bridge. I don’t want her near those sails, Theo.”
Theo nodded; Riddick’s voice had grown cold again, and Theo knew that he was lost in that moment when he thought Shazza was gone. He remembered what Shazza had said afterwards when he patched her up, about Riddick’s feelings. Shazza could stay on the bridge and watch from there.
“What did you want me for?” Shazza poked her head around the door to the bridge, at the sound of her own name. She had been up for a few minutes and had gone in search of Riddick first, and coffee.
She was back in her old clothes again and he was surprised by how much he missed seeing her in a dress. His fingertips traced over her hip and he leaned down to kiss her neck first, where he inhaled their mingled scents on her skin. With a satisfied growl he kissed her lips; coffee, she still tasted like coffee. “We’re leaving for the next village.” He buried his face in her neck again as she smiled widely again. His lips nipped at her ear and he whispered to her, “Will you wear that dress for me again anytime soon?”
Shazza pulled her head back to look at him; he looked nearly shy, as though he had asked for something depraved, and not as simple as a dress. Maybe it was a strange thing for him to ask; a strange thing for him to want. “For you, yes.” He grinned and kissed her hard this time, before he walked over to the side and jumped down to the grass below.
Copyright © December 2006 xxxevilgrinxxx