Treacherous

Chapter 2



Bell lifted the largest of the three bags, a backpack, up to her back, strapping it on as it was designed. One of the other bags got slung over her shoulder. “Are you going to be able to follow me? I have four containers of water. No free hands.”



“Do you have my goggles?”



Bell rolled her eyes and dropped the second bag. In her eagerness to get away she’d forgotten that he wasn’t really in the greatest condition for a hike.



Unzipping the bag she pulled out a light colored shirt she’d picked specifically for him for this trek. Beneath it were the goggles that she’d done some serious sneaking to get.



“Here.” She stood and stepped closer to him. He frowned as he leaned down, hearing or sensing her. Carefully she lifted the strap over the back of his sun burnt scalp. His jaw worked as if he didn’t like her touching him, but he didn’t move at all.



She was so close to him, merely an inch separating their faces. Bell actually winced at the close up view of his cracked lips.



“Hold still,” she whispered without really thinking about it. Out of her pocket she pulled her personal supply, and highly valued tube of chap stick. He flinched away at the first touch of the balm to his pouty lower lip. She paused, waiting to see how he’d react and wondered what had possessed her to touch him so intimately. His tongue drew across his lower lip, and then he gave a barely seen nod.



Bell applied more chap stick, for the moment ignoring how impressively large he was next to her smaller height. When she finished he rubbed his lips together, quite appealingly she thought, and stood to his full height again. She immediately stepped back.



“Can you see?”



He lifted his head for the first time, making him appear even taller as she looked up at him.



“No.”



She nodded, having expected just that. She’d known a guy years before that had had his eyes shined. Exposed to a bright light for a short period of time, he’d temporary lost all vision. Hopefully this would be the same case. She didn’t know what the hell she’d do if she had a permanently blind killer to care for.



“It should come back. You’ve been in the light for a long time. Eyes hurt?”



He didn’t respond, but she didn’t see how they COULDN’T hurt.



“Can you walk just following me, or should I tie us off?”



“Fuck you.”



Answer enough.



“I have a shirt for you if you take off yours.”



He only hesitated for a second. With his shirt removed Bell could see the damage the sun had done to his skin. Red blisters covered his upper back and shoulders where the tank he’d been wearing didn’t cover. His arms and head weren’t as bad, obviously having been more used to the sun than the rest.



Bell took the dirty shirt from him and tied it around one of the straps, not wanting to leave it behind. For all of half a second she held the new shirt out to him before she realized that he couldn’t see it. Carefully she moved into his space again and lifted the soft cotton of the shirt over his head. Without comment he went through the moves of putting the shirt on, not thanking her when he was dressed.



She handed him one of the bags, making sure to set the strap in his hand. The other bag she hefted again, already feeling weighted down. She set two of the water jugs in front of him, bumping his feet with them as she did.



“Okay. Let’s go.”



She lifted the last two jugs and nearly fell over. The weight on her back was the only thing that kept her upright, seeming to balance her with the weight in her hands.



Bell checked on Riddick repeatedly. Always he walked with his head down, carrying his burden easily and never straying from following right behind her. Several times she had to warn him of rough ground or direct him around something in their path, but surprisingly they made good time and had no incidents.



‘North’ of the settlement was a rise to about roof level, and then flat out for about half a mile or so, then the ground roughened and rose into rocky hills. Bell was aiming for these hills, not as a place to hide, but just as a place to be out of sight of the settlement. Now, as she walked it became a goal to make it that far without dropping the water she carried.



“The ground is rising here and getting rough. We’ll stash two of the waters up ahead so we can climb easier.”



“We don’t have to, and you can stop dragging your feet.”



Bell frowned and stopped, causing Riddick to pull up short to keep from colliding with her.



“Can you see?”



“No, but if we’re going to keep Johns from following we need to not leave a trail.”



Bell looked back down the slope they were climbing. There was most definitely a track discernable in the loose rock and gravel. Well shit!



“We outta sight yet?”



They were. Just. They’d been climbing up and a large outcropping had just cut off the view of the settlement glinting in the sun in the distance. “Yeah.”



“I need a drink and to wash.”



Bell frowned as she watched him. His voice had changed, softening, and not as rough as before. His very attitude had changed. She watched him tip water into his hand and rub his face, concentrating on his eyes. Was he just more alert? Or had he just not believed in the settlement that she was really going to get him away? Maybe it was just the painkiller kicking in.



Moving automatically she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and held it out to him. His hand brushed it and he reached for it without rising. When his goggles were back in place he stood, using the damp clothe to wipe his hands.



“You’re pretty useful.”



“Is that a compliment or a redeeming value?”



Riddick just looked at her for a long pause, or in her direction. “Give me one of the bags you’re carrying.”



“Are you sure? I can carry it.”



“You barely carried it this far, and that’s impressive. How much you weigh? Sixty-two? Sixty-five kilos? You’re carrying at least three-quarters of your weight.”



Bell was unaccountably pleased that he was impressed by what she’d done. Not that that would heal the blisters on her hands or erase the ache from her back, but it still felt good.

“I didn’t think you’d be in shape to carry so much.”



“Three-quarters of my weight? No, I’m not, but I can carry this and not leave the trail that you just did.”



Bell didn’t know what to say. How could he be praising her and insulting her at the same time? In her opinion it was quite an accomplishment. Then he continued.



“Do you have a objective here or are we just wandering?”



Bell frowned in frustration. What did he expect from her? She wasn’t some commando here. She’d managed to get him away with supplies, wasn’t that something?

“I thought we’d just trot in a big circle?”



The corner of his mouth turned up as he dropped the strap of the bag he’d taken from her over his head to ride the opposite shoulder. “So talk.”



“What do you want to know?”



“First, are you okay to walk? We need to put ground between us and Johns.”



Bell nearly laughed. He was asking her if she was okay to walk. “I’m fine. What about you?”



“Same as before. If it gets too rocky give me one of those and you can lead me a little better.” He scowled as he said it, obviously not caring for the idea.



“You can’t carry that much.”



“I can carry what needs to be carried. Let’s go.”



Bell started walking. The relief of not carrying the extra bit of weight quickly left as their way became harder.



“Try to stay on rockier places, no soft dirt or loose gravel,” Riddick was telling her.



Going was slow. Several spots were so steep she had to heft the waters up one at a time and then go back down to lend Riddick a hand. Finally they reached the top of the rocky hill and started back down. Almost at once a bit of ground broke beneath Bell’s foot and she went down. The containers of water helped her catch herself, but she landed hard on her knees, gasping in pain as the rocks tore through her pants and skin.



“That’s it. Let’s stop for a few.”



They sat and drank water, probably four or five liters between them before they finished. In essence though they were only replacing the water that was pouring off of them in the burning sun. Riddick was doing more than that, replacing fluids he’d lost over the last couple days.



“You got any rope or cord?”



She did, pulling a coil out from one of the bags. As she dug into the bag she saw that the clean shirt she’d given him to wear was stained red over his shoulders where the straps of the bags were pressing down on his abused skin beneath.



“Are you okay?”



His head turned toward her sitting just behind him since he hadn’t taken the bags off to sit. “Just a little blood.”



She curled her lip at his nonchalant tone. “You can feel it?”



He nodded a bit, facing away from her again, “And smell it.”



Bell nearly shuddered at that idea. He could smell blood? How gross.



He took the thin rope she handed him. She watched him tie an end to a handle of one of the water containers. “Knife?” When she didn’t instantly respond he turned his head toward her again. “Did you bring one?”



“Yes,” she whispered, unable to lie.



Silence. Bell could feel her heart beat in her chest, and she had a fleeting thought that she’d like it to keep beating. Handing a weapon to a murderer was going against everything she knew and held dear, like her life!



“If I wanted to kill you I wouldn’t need the knife.”



His voice had dropped several octaves, nearly returning to that rough beyond the grave sound from before. Bell pulled back, her fear coming to the forefront. Was he trying to scare her or reassure her?

“How comforting.”