False Dawn

Chapter 3

“No! Please, stop!”

A heavy hand clamping onto her shoulder made her scream and strike out, fist rebounding harmlessly off of solid muscle. The hand on her shoulder didn’t give.

“Kid, wake up.”

The low sharp demand penetrated the clinging reality of her dream. Riddick?

“Kid, you’re okay,” came his deep voice again. No drawl, no snide tone, just Riddick's low emotionless voice.

Jack gasped as she gripped his solid wrist and awoke, staring up into bright silver eyes. Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest, her body ached in horrible ways, and she couldn’t shake the panic of her dream. “Riddick?”

He was bent down on one knee beside her and it required no thought to sit up and throw herself at him.

Riddick’s arms came down around the thin trembling body clinging to him. He had thought all his instincts were a matter of survival but as he pulled the soft form closer, his hands unfamiliarly stroking down her thin back in a soothing motion he realized that wasn’t true. He had just never been required to offer comfort, so how would he know if he could?

“It’s okay, kid, you’re safe.” His gruff tone sounded a far cry from soothing to him, but she obviously didn’t agree. She huddled closer, pressing her damp face into his bare chest.

He had expected nightmares, from all of them. How could you not be affected by traipsing through the dark with ravenous nocturnal creatures after you? But something didn’t ring true with the way the kid woke up. She had been arguing, fighting back, even begging. He’d expected screams and such, not haggling. What had she been dreaming of?

Several minutes later he felt her relax against him, asleep. He moved to lay her back down but found her small hands were locked around his upper arm with a death grip even in sleep. Well, shit!

He ended up lying down right where he was. She never made a sound and she never released him. He couldn’t keep from smiling a bit as he lay facing her. Having someone actually want him around was kinda nice if he allowed himself to think about it, which he stopped immediately. *She’s just some damn kid. Don’t go and get mushy,* he ordered himself just before falling asleep.

~^~^~^~^~

Screams woke her. She was just dropping into the clutches of her earlier dream when she heard the unmistakable sound of the night creatures. Panic was her first response, but as she came awake she became aware of the distance of the sounds and the press of a warm body against her legs. She sat to find Riddick sitting at her feet, her legs up against his hip and bare leg.

She quickly pulled away and sat up, opening her mouth to apologize when he spoke.

“Somethin’s happening.”

Her focus went to the unusual amount of noise outside the skiff. The creatures sounded like they were screaming in pain, and they were so close! Were they finally going to attack them in spite of their light?

Riddick stood and moved down the ramp and she nearly grabbed him to drag him back to safety. He can see them, she reminded herself, and she slowly followed him down the ramp.

Just as suddenly as the eclipse began, it ended. One second there was only the light of the skiff, and the next there was a flash of bright sunshine. The sun returned just as it had left, it’s glow shining through the rings of the sister planet. Riddick cursed softly and quickly pulled on his goggles.

They both watched in silent awe as the flying creatures fled back to their subterranean home. They screamed at the first rays of light, and then made mad dashes for the ground. Only minutes after the first light reappeared it came back full force. As it cleared the rings of the planet that was now on the opposite horizon, toward sunrise, the few creatures that had not made it to the refuge of the dark below fell from the sky.

Jack cringed as a screaming smoking beast fell just yards away. It writhed and blistered in the new dawn’s light. The smell was horrible. When Riddick stepped out toward the thing still flailing on the ground she slowly followed, staying behind his broad back.

Within minutes it was over. The still smoking and charred remains of the beasts that had been caught in the light lay scattered about on the muddy ground. They looked around them, the new day showing that the planet barely looked the way it had when they had landed. Small rivers had formed from the torrential rains, probably turning the tunnels underground into lakes. Huge holes were in the ground before them in all directions. The spires were gone, now just muddy piles of soil. Little remained to show that they had even crashed. The rain had smoothed the track the ship had made on its grand entrance. With the sand-cat, cargo hold, and with the main part of the ship now gone, there was only small bits left of their arrival.

“How long was it?” Jack whispered, not really expecting an answer.

Riddick didn’t look at her to answer. “Three days from the time we came down.”

Jack blinked in surprise at him, “How do you know? How can you tell?”

He shrugged, his lips twisting a bit, but he still didn’t look at her. “The darkness lasted almost thirty hours.”

Jack frowned at his back. In the light he had returned to the large unapproachable killer he had been before the eclipse. She wished she could see his eyes, wished she could see him. Though he was standing before her half naked she felt he was withdrawing from her.

“Well, let’s get off this rock. I don’t feel like baking here again,” she said, turning back to scan the area around them. The idea that the danger was over was difficult to accept. She’d been so scared for so long it was hard to let go of.

The suns, the two red ones, were already making themselves felt. The air was becoming noticeably warmer already, and as she looked around she could see that the ground was actually steaming. A sort of fog was forming as the warming air started to dry the ground.

Riddick turned without another word and went into the skiff. She stared after him for a moment and almost wished it were dark again. Had he liked them needing him? Did he think now they were going to turn on him? Fat chance of that happening. She’d turn on Imam before she’d turn on him. She just wished he knew it.

It took Riddick all of ten minutes to change over the cells. He tossed two of the abused cells out into the mud and set the other two aside to take with them. Just in case. He didn’t think they would need them, but didn’t want to be wrong. A trip back to this shithole planet was at the bottom of a long list of things to do.

Imam sat watching him work, praying occasionally. Jack was nowhere to be seen.

Riddick didn’t know where the kid had disappeared to and was actually worried that she would wander into some sort of trouble. Weren’t kids known for doing stupid shit like that? But he wasn’t going to interrupt his task to go look for her, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let onto the holy man that he was even thinking about her.

Once the cells were hooked up he went to the pilots chair to run the tests before take off. Their beacon and radio was somehow damaged. He had set the beacon to alert any passing ships of their distress signal, but he didn’t think it was working. He cursed Johns for that. If he’d been allowed into the skiff earlier he could have possibly worked with Carolyn to get it working. Now they were just shit outta luck. Messing with it now could just cause more damage, taking into account he had no idea what he was doing.

He had searched from the skiff’s windshield for the kid, trying to make it look like he wasn’t. But he still didn’t see her. He checked that the ramp was clear before he set the hull test to run.

By the time he finished and brought the ramp down it had been nearly an hour since he’d seen the kid.

He checked the wound on his leg and saw that the kid had done a damn good job sewing him up. There would be a scar, but it would heal nicely. Changing quickly into one of the flight suits, he cursed whoever had made one-size-fits-all. The suit had hung off the kid, but on him it was stretched tight. Oh, well, it would have to do.

The holy man had resumed his incessant praying by now. He scowled at the black man’s kneeling form, but had to give him credit for his seemingly unwavering faith.

At the bottom of the ramp he stood and scanned the area for the kid. He wanted to leave, and hoped he didn’t have to go rescue the little twit. He was about to start off in the only direction she could have gone and not still be visible when he heard a tiny sound from behind him.

He moved around the skiff to find the girl under the skiff, sitting in a huddled ball in the mud.

“What’s wrong?” His voice came out harsher than he had intended. But how was he supposed to know what to do?

Big teary eyes looked up at him and he barely controlled the urge to run. This was something he was definitely not ready to deal with.

“What’s the matter, kid?” he asked, trying to make his voice softer. It was quieter, but no less harsh.

“I thought you were leaving.”

He looked up at the skiff and back down at her, feeling more aggravated by the second. “Had to check the hull, kid. That’s all.”

She sniffed again and then dropped her head back onto her folded arms.

Riddick stared at her for a long time, assessing her, weighing things. Mostly he was trying to decide if his involvement would just fuck her up worse. Finally he spoke, “You gonna tell me what you’re really sitting in the mud crying about?”

She looked up at him like he had snapped at her, a wary look on her face. “I thought you—“

“Don’t bullshit me, kid. You woke up fighting me earlier, care to explain that?” he asked. The look of fear on her face was familiar. The regret he felt for causing it was new. Fear was something he recognized, understood, and dealt, but he hadn’t intended to scare this kid. And he didn’t like that he was. He squatted down before her, trying to bring himself on a level with her. “Tell me, kid. What’s wrong?”

She surprised him by smiling at him. Then her smile became a sneer, something he recognized. “You gonna make it all better, Riddick?” She pushed to her feet and stepped past him, making him come to his feet out of years of self-defense. Never leave your back turned.

“What’re you gonna do, Riddick? Let me cry on ya? Thanks, but no thanks. Not sure your credentials quite cover psychoanalysis.”

Riddick stared after her as she walked away from him. *Well, that’ll teach you, dumb ass,* he ridiculed himself. He’d always heard women got a little edgy at that certain time of the month. He hadn’t realized they could go from needing cuddling to snapping his head off in less than one heartbeat. It was actually quite a feat. He should be taking tips. She’d just mouthed off to one of the universe’s most feared criminals and left him with his mouth hanging open, and not once had he thought of his shiv. He should have had it out. If he’d pissed her off by just asking her what was wrong he might’ve needed to defend himself if he’d said something really bad.

He shook his head and smiled to himself as he followed her. Little bitch did not know what she was fucking with. But then, neither did he obviously.

Imam had not changed positions since he’d left. The kid was in the co-pilots seat already strapped in. She staunchly refused to even look at him as he got into his own seat and strapped in. If she thought she was punishing him with her stony silence he was content to let her continue to believe that.

An hour later Riddick sat back and let the ships autopilot take over. All they could do now was wait. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long for someone to pick them up. He wasn't certain but he'd figured the Hunter Gratzner had managed to get some distress signal off before it had gone down. There could be a rescue on the way, or else, he knew there were ships watching for just such a disaster so they could come down and pick the wreckage clean, sometimes even killing off the survivors if it was in their interest. He really didn't care who picked them up, just that it was soon. Stuck with these two for too long might just test his vow not to kill them.

Without a word to either of them he left the controls and found a nice soft spot to sleep. Soft, yeah, this was real soft. After a moments hesitation he unzipped the suit to keep it from strangling him. With him sitting against the hull it was still riding up uncomfortably into his ass, but he didn’t think the other passengers would appreciate complete nudity.

Hours had passed when he woke to the sound of whimpering. Moving quickly to the copilot’s seat he looked down at the girl as she struggled against something in her dream.

His hand on her arm sent her into a panic.

“No! Stop! Please! Don’t touch me.” She swung at him, knocking his hand from her, but it didn’t reduce her panic at all. Her feet were kicking, her arms flailing as she continued to beg for her tormentor to stop.

He spun her chair to face him and gripped her shoulders, keeping her from hitting him.

“Noooooo!”

He grunted as she kicked him in the knee then shook her. “Kid, stop. You’re okay.”

She continued to struggle against his hold for a moment longer and then her eyes flew open. For one second he thought she might continue to fight him and then her face crumpled. Her hands covered her face as she broke into wrenching sobs.

Turning the pilot’s chair to face her he sat and waited. When her body stopped rocking with her sobbing and her sounds quieted a bit he spoke. “So you gonna tell me what he did?”

The look she gave him was fearful, and even ashamed. “What? Who?” she whispered.

“I’m thinkin’ Johns. Am I wrong?”

Her gaze dropped from his but the lack of immediate denial was all the answer he needed. And it made perfect sense. The bleeding, the sudden attitude change in him. Him wanting her dead. But there was one thing that didn’t quite make sense.

“When?”

She sniffed and turned away from him. “Just before the eclipse.”

“Why’d he still think you were a boy then?”

Her eyes snapped to his with a look he didn’t want to see. Another and hopefully the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Johns was a twisted fucker. He’d been in such a hurry to get at the kid, and it had probably been dark wherever he’d dragged her to. Seems he’d raped her without even knowing it was a girl under him. He had needed a spike, hadn’t stopped to even look at what he was doing really. It made sense.

“Sorry, kid.”

Her gaze dropped from his again, and now he understood why. Shame was a bitch. He started to move, to leave her alone, when she spoke again. The small whisper of words stopped him cold.

“He said your name.”

He didn’t intend to growl at her but that’s what it came out as. “What?”

Her dark eyes slowly rose to meet his and he realized it wasn’t shame there. It was sympathy. His stomach rolled strangely. The fucking kid knew his worst humiliation. Slam had been hell, but it had been a fighting hell. He had been able to defend himself when in the pit, or was just alone in solitary. But Johns had been a sick fuck. Bound and gagged and pumped with more drugs than most people could survive, he’d been helpless. And this kid knew.

She spoke and for a second he thought about shutting her up with his shiv. He didn’t want to know the truth. Didn’t want to know what she knew. Killing her was a way out.

“He said I was smaller than you, but that with my new haircut I’d do,” she whispered.

Riddick’s teeth ground together so hard his jaw hurt. The girl was almost cowering before him as he glared down at her. His hand actually began to move for his shiv before he physically willed it to stop.

Just a kid. Just a kid, he repeated to himself.

She blinked up at him with those huge innocent eyes and he realized why she had attached herself to him. In her mind they were both victims. If Johns was bad then Riddick MUST be the good guy. How ironic.

He’d never thought of getting ass-raped by a strung-out merc as a bonding experience. But this kid did. She felt connected to him because she knew they’d both suffered the same humiliation.

Riddick felt the steam go out of him and he sat back down. He stared at her for a minute, not liking that she knew what she did. But he knew she’d had no choice, and would willingly give up the knowledge if she could go back and redo it. He shrugged a shoulder and offered her what little closure he could, “He’s dead.”

She faced him again, the wary look leaving her eyes. “Did you kill him?”

He tilted his head still watching her. “No, but I watched him die.”

She nodded as if that was all she needed to hear. “So what do we do now?”

“Forget him.”

She nodded slowly. They held each other’s gaze for a long time. Then they both turned to watch the skiff’s progress through the never-ending pitch black void of space.

When he offered her the only bit of comfort he knew how to give she didn’t hesitate to twine her fingers through his.