Jack’s stomach knotted and the tension made her fists clench and her chest hurt. The sea had opened up before them as far as could be seen. It should have been serene.
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Riddick and Theo ran full out across the causeway in pursuit of the four remaining Company men. A scattering of Underhill’s villagers trailed out behind them along the stone promontory which led out to the shattered ruins of the castle.
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A kiss. Jack had never before dreamed of a kiss. The men in her dreams were usually the stuff of nightmares but this was different. Soft and sweet, and oddly it made her think of Riddick. It was gentle yet strong and it made her feel safe as though nothing could hurt her. A waking dream, its fragments torn into pleasant wisps.
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The air chilled slightly just before dawn and a scrim of mist swirled over the fetlocks of the antelope as they moved toward the edge of the forest. Dawn’s first rays had turned the air a pale eldritch green, a strange otherworldly twilight that insisted upon silence and got it.
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Jack didn’t breathe. Everything slowed down and she saw her life in a series of moments. Pain, and more bitterness than she should ever have known. Broken and battered, often with nothing left but defiance and the sheer will to get back up, to fight. Out of spite if nothing else.
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Riddick shifted his weight as discretely as possible; the only sign of discomfort a furrow between his eyebrows, easily hidden. From everyone but Shazza, at least. Shazza smirked around the cup of hot broth.
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Jack watched the forest pass by on the left hand side of the ship. A day and a half, two days tops, and the Moorglade would reach the sea. Only two days.
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It was darker in the forest; faint rays of sunlight filtered down through the trees and bathed the forest floor in gauzy twilight. Motes floated down through the canopy and swirled around the trunks of monstrous, ancient trees. The darkness deepened as they passed beyond the broken trees of the merc ship’s descent.
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Joanne rested against the side of the cupboard in the galley, her eyes shut tightly. She didn’t breathe, she didn’t move. Marcus had often left, to hunt or for some other business, for as long as several months, often several times in a year. It had never really affected her, being left alone. He would be gone, and he would come back, nothing really changed.
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“You better fucking take care of her,” Riddick growled out, his chest a breath away from Duncan. A quick but unnecessary glance down the corridor, at Jack; Duncan knew exactly who Riddick referred to.
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