Jack followed easily, just a step behind Riddick. The pale light of Trieste’s twin moons may have been a factor but she didn’t think so. She knew that she could follow Riddick even on the blackest night, even if she hadn’t had practice. Which she did.

The cool air made the fine hair along her arms and the nape of her neck stand up. She felt a charge of electricity that had nothing to do with the ley lines that traced the surface of the planet. Jack could see every blade of grass clearly, delineated into shafts of silvered streaks that waved in time with the breeze. Everything was so clear; all the sounds of the night distinct to her ears.

Riddick loped easily, a step ahead of her and just to her left. Jack’s steps mirrored his as best she could, given his longer legs. Her heart raced but it had nothing to do with fatigue and everything to do with excitement.

If she didn’t know Riddick, didn’t trust him so completely, she would have been afraid. Terrified. To be led into the high grass by a predator was no small thing. He hadn’t said what they were about to do, hadn’t given her any time to prepare, but Jack knew what was to come. She had asked him once if he would take her hunting.

Every few moments Riddick would stop and scan the area, his head swept from side to side. Jack realized that his eyes were closed when he did it and that he scented the air. After he had done it a few times, Jack did the same. She was amazed at how much more could be pulled from the air when her eyes were closed, when all her senses were so heightened.

The sharp tang of dew-laden blades of grass, the earthy smell of the soil underneath. The forest smelled dark and wild, the salt spray of the sea; Jack stayed still for a moment longer, her head tilted to the side to take it all in. The spicy male scent of Riddick’s sweat, and her own. That last, the smell of their sweat, made her mouth water in a way she couldn’t yet understand.

They moved deeper into the sea of grass and that’s when Jack picked up the scent. Of course Riddick had caught it first, had in fact followed it for some time but Jack grinned from ear to ear that she could too. A strange smell, musky and strong; fur and heat. Something wild. Her mind skipped back to the deck of the Moorglade as she had looked out and first saw the antelope. It was incredible to her that this smell could be the same creature, that she could be so close.

She wouldn’t speak because Riddick hadn’t, so reached out to touch Riddick’s back. He didn’t jump, like another person would, he just turned calmly and his long eyelashes flickered up until he looked at her intently.

Riddick leaned in and, in a low, barely audible whisper, spoke against her ear. “It’s close, can you smell it?”
He seemed to be pleased at her nod, and at her silence. Riddick smiled at her stance, a perfect imitation of his own, her blade hidden from sight along her forearm. A fingertip traced across her arm as Riddick turned again to look out into the grass.

As one they moved out again, slower this time and Riddick swept the area in the same way that he had before, his eyes open. Jack’s heart pounded hard enough that she swore he could hear it; after all, she could. The rush of blood in her ears nearly drowned out everything else; the fear was still there, but it had become something else. A taut string of heightened awareness, excitement, pulled at her, centered low in her belly.

If she had been older, or more aware of her body, she would have recognized the sensation, from when she thought that Riddick and Duncan might fight over her. This was stronger, and more primal. Jack gripped the knife in her hand and followed closely at Riddick’s side, step for step.

Riddick made a shallow circle in the grass and Jack was a little baffled when he looped around again. Finally she understood when the clearing widened, a rough circle about ten feet across. A wide spot in the path that Riddick had appeared to have followed through the grass.

With a subtle nod of his head, Riddick motioned to her, before he disappeared into the wall of grass that rose up around the ring. She followed and they waited silently.

It felt like forever; she had never expected this kind of wait, and it nearly undid her to crouch in silence beside Riddick. Jack counted blades of grass, counted the different sorts of night sounds that she could hear before she settled on counting the rhythmic breaths coming from Riddick. As she counted, her heartbeat slowed to match his, until she remained a statue beside him, her muscles bunched in preparation. They didn’t talk, they just waited.

When the low rustle came, she nearly yelled. Riddick’s hand settled on her arm as though he knew and she stilled beneath his touch. The warmth of his hand contrasted with the cool of the blade he still held and she was amazed that he could touch her with it and not cut her. Her muscles bunched as the animal drew closer.

The beast flattened more of the grass as it nosed into the clearing and Jack bit her lip so as not to cry out. The antelope wasn’t nearly as large as the ones that Riddick, Shazza and Theo rode, but it was close. Dun in color with long legs and a streamlined body. It was a creature made to run. And fight, if the curved horns that swept back along its body were any clue.

Riddick waited until the antelope had walked out into the flattened grass and then slipped behind it, careful of its hooves. The beast was now between Riddick and Jack, on either side of the clearing. Jack would have felt safer if Riddick was beside her. Now that she was here with the creature in front of her, she was so unsure.

Jack’s attention shifted quickly, from the beast to Riddick, and even then, it all happened so fast. Riddick darted forward and slashed along the inside of the beast’s forelegs, which brought it down bellowing, a sound that galvanized Jack into action. She hadn’t been sure until just then. Her knife was at the creature’s throat, ready to make the cut that would kill it, silence it, when Riddick’s hand closed over her own.

The beast continued to struggle, unable to rise. It flung its head back and forth but, unable to charge an attacker, its horns were of little use and easy to avoid. Jack hissed in a fearful voice, “Riddick, something’s gonna hear all this racket!”

Riddick looked at her calmly, across the head of the panicked animal, mindless to its cries of pain. “You think we came out here to hunt antelope, Jack?”

She was deeply puzzled. What had they come out here for then, she wondered. Riddick didn’t explain, just backed once more into the tall grass, opposite her and, after a deep breath, Jack followed his example, disappearing into the grass on the other side of the clearing.

It was hard to listen to the antelope scream out in the grass but it was harder as its struggles died down, until small bleats were all it could manage. This was cruel and she didn’t understand.

The grass moved again, not the delicate rustle that the antelope had made as it slipped through, this was different. More forceful, with direction. More predatory. Jack felt her mouth turn to cotton and she wanted more than anything else to be beside Riddick once again, to be protected by him. She couldn’t see him, couldn’t feel him, and for a brief moment she closed her eyes, fearful that he had left her. It killed her to be afraid.

It was that thought that stilled her panic. Riddick wouldn’t leave her. If he had intended to kill her, he could have taken the opportunity long before this. He was there, on the other side of the ring of flattened, bloodstained grass.

Her heart froze and her guts twisted in knots when the cruel head broke through the blades of grass. It was only about half the height of the antelope, its musculature tight and bunched in a series of fluid knots that ran its sleek, powerful length.

It was the head that froze Jack. Bright eyes filled with a savage intelligence that glinted in the darkness. ‘Like Riddick’s.’

The jaw gaped, as though the creature had been split from ear to ear, an impossibly wide mouth filled with jagged teeth that shone dully in the moonlight. Once seen it couldn’t be unseen and Jack remained frozen, hidden in the tall grass as she listened to the engine of destruction approach the fallen antelope.

She was angry and didn’t immediately know why, and then it occurred to her. The antelope was their kill.

Her breath shallow, Jack stared through the grass to watch for Riddick. When Riddick stepped out, it was again behind the animal, soundlessly. Jack was in awe that he could do it without notice, but the predator’s interest was taken with the easy kill it had stumbled across, drawn by the sound of its dying cries.

Riddick held her gaze without moving any closer and Jack was pulled forward. Trembling, she stepped out in front of the beast, with the fallen antelope between them. Her mouth dried immediately as she stared into that maw of razor teeth, now pulled back and exposed as the beast sought to claim the antelope.

Riddick still hadn’t moved. But the beast hadn’t seen him either. Jack had the fleeting thought that Riddick had her out here for bait. Brushed the idea aside. Her arm twitched with the tension and the creature followed the movement, a low dangerous growl rolled from its chest.

No, she wasn’t bait. Riddick had brought her out to hunt, but not to hunt antelope. The antelope was bait for something bigger and that idea excited her in a way she couldn’t define. She licked her lips and swallowed dryly, trying for moisture she didn’t have any longer.

She kept her eyes on the beast and tracked Riddick, as he got closer. Jack flicked the blade again, a ray of silvered moonlight danced off its edge to distract the beast when she thought that the animal had caught Riddick’s scent and was rewarded by one of those knowing looks from Riddick.

The blood pounded in her ears and drowned out everything else; nothing existed but that within the circle. One step to the side, and another, as the beast tracked her with its massive head, its front paws, claws fully extended, draped possessively over the now still carcass of the antelope.

Soon, Riddick was close to its right haunch while Jack was dangerously close to its left side. She couldn’t take her eyes from the creature’s jaws and, like the creatures from the hammerhead planet, once it was seen; it was all she could see in her mind’s eye. She didn’t back away; she was Jack B. Badd.

The beast roared to life in front of her and spun in a blaze of fury towards Riddick as Riddick sliced into the rear haunch of the creature.

Jack’s knuckles tightened across the hilt of the makeshift blade even as her bladder let go. Her sharp blade slashed brutally across the creature’s neck, the danger to Riddick drove her forward into the side of the beast’s powerful neck. Jack cried out in shock as the warm gush of blood drenched her, as it pulsed from the beast’s severed artery. The scream died in her throat as its huge head, with its jaw full of razor teeth, swung her way. It was already dead, only instinct drove it on and Jack trembled in terror as she watched the predator succumb before her, its blood pumped free in a matter of seconds.

Riddick crossed the distance and carefully pulled her from the side of the animal, his hands everywhere at once, to see if she was injured. It was impossible to tell, given the amount of blood she was covered in.

“Riddick…” It came out a whimpered, broken cry as she held him so tightly that her muscles spasmed.

“You did good, Jack.” Riddick held her tightly until her trembles stopped, a stream of murmured words against her ear; the words not as important as the sound of him. She didn’t drop the knife but her hand unclenched a little. She took a step back, her head dropped as realization dawned that she had wet herself in her fright. She didn’t want Riddick to know but of course he already knew. He told her not to worry about it. “Forget it; it happens to everybody.” His hand pulled her back before she could take more than a step away from him and she let out a sigh, her nerves still jangled.

“We’ll have to go back, get help to bring these back. Maybe we could make up a sled…” Jack looked at the tangled, blood-soaked carcasses of predator and prey and her mind had switched gears, to how to get them back, but Riddick cut her off.

“No. You keep what you kill, Jack.”

Jack blinked at him, her eyelashes pulled into spikes by the blood as it dried. “What?” He didn’t answer, just reached into his cargo pocket and pulled out a length of rope that he had brought with him. Baffled, she watched as he tied the legs of the beast together and then it dawned on her. He was going to drag the animal back to camp. Himself. “Riddick, we can go get help, you don’t have to…”

He grinned up at her as he worked. A good grin. If he had been anyone but who he was, some might even have called it a kind grin. “Not me, Jack. You. You keep what you kill; it’s yours.”

He handed the tied ropes to her and helped her get them adjusted and she silently complied, confused by the turn of events. Her voice sounded skeptical as she tested the weight. “So, I keep what I kill.” She went for sarcasm. “Does that mean I get the first burger?”

Riddick spun towards her and she took a step back, a little startled, even as his hand settled gently along the curve of her jaw. “It’s not about eating, Jack. It’s about killing. It’s about who’s left standing, and what that feels like. Anybody can kill something that isn’t trying to kill them back. I want you to remember this, to remember what this feels like.” His hand touched her heart as he put as much emphasis as he could on his words.  “You keep what you kill.”

With that, Riddick tugged hard on the antelope and slung it across his shoulders with a heavy grunt. Jack strained against the rope that tied her own kill and scrabbled against the blood-slick grass for purchase. She didn’t think she could ever move and that she would be defeated here at the end. She could hear Riddick chuckle at her muttered string of curses; she wasn’t about to be left here. She could hardly keep what she killed if she couldn’t bring it home; it was all hers now.

With a final growl, Jack managed to move the beast. Once past the sodden grass of the killing ground, the footing was easier, although she strained heavily under the weight. Riddick never moved out of her vision, always a step or so ahead; the antelope’s head swung back and forth bonelessly across his broad back and gave time to her own struggles. Every time the creature’s head lolled, she took one step.

Slicked in sweat, she panted heavily, her head down. Jack didn’t know how her legs continued to hold her and at every step she expected to pitch forward into the earth and never move again. Riddick never stopped, just held the same slow pace. Jack knew it was slow for him because even if she didn’t know how she kept up, she did, and she knew that the beast she dragged had to slow her down.

Grass became stone and then hands lifted her. She couldn’t see who it was but she knew that it was Riddick. He had dropped the antelope carcass on the stone causeway, close to Sunhillow, and swooped up Jack in his arms.

She heard murmured words and felt other hands on her; like Riddick, they looked for injuries and she knew that it was Shazza. Shazza kissed her forehead and then she was gone only to come back a few moments later. Bloody clothes were stripped from her and then Shazza dressed her again. Jack winced when her arms were raised to pull off one shirt and put on another but she didn’t move, she didn’t care, curled safe in Riddick’s arms.

Jack didn’t know how long she slept but awoke for a short time at the smell of roasting meat and then darkness pulled her under where she slept safely, cradled by Riddick, held by Shazza.

Copyright © may 2007 xxxevilgrinxxx