He Didn't Come

Riddick muttered, “I’m such an idiot.”

Why the hell did he save that boy’s life? What was his name? Jack. That kid had a serious attitude problem. And that self-righteous old man was getting on his nerves, too. Sure, it impressed Riddick that the kid stood up to a bunch of ‘rats, but acts of heroism were completely foreign to his nature. He was a murderer, not a hero.

Most of the human brain shuts down in cryo-sleep—all but the primitive side. The animal side. It was no wonder Riddick always stayed awake. He had watched Owens smuggle the kid onboard while everyone else slept on. The kid had looked afraid. It was obvious that the kid wasn’t supposed to be there. It was unusual, and Riddick was curious. There was nothing else to think about in the long weeks in suspended animation. He had puzzled about the boy a good portion of the journey. He wished the lockers weren’t airtight. He wanted to catch the boy’s scent. Scent explained so much about everything. Little details that were impossible to see. Things that helped him know and understand his world. It was what made him such a good hunter. Riddick sometimes figured that he was more animal than man.

In every cryo-system there was an automatic mechanism that would wake everyone in cryo-sleep if something were to go wrong, and something had gone very, very wrong. He was being transported back to slam when the attack came. The merc who had caught him was killed immediately during the attack, saving Riddick the trouble of doing it himself. He knew as soon as he found out that he was on a ship taking the ghost lanes that there would be trouble. Riddick had good instincts. He had to, in his line of work. Contract killers had to be able to sense trouble brewing.

The kid and the old guy were both asleep. The kid was intriguing. Riddick got an odd feeling from him. He knew the kid wasn’t a pretty boy, but there was something about him that didn’t give off the most masculine vibe. Maybe he was just late coming into puberty, or something. Riddick didn’t know.

It was strange that the old guy wasn’t afraid of him. Neither was the kid, for that matter. Most everyone was afraid of him. He’d been hired to kill some pretty prominent people over the years. He made news more than once. Each time he was caught, he made headlines. Each time he escaped, he made more headlines. He was practically a celebrity on some planets closer to the center of the Consortium.

He heard the boy stirring behind him. On impulse he called, “Hey, kid.” There was absolute silence from the kid’s direction. Riddick said in a bored voice, “Come on, kid, I don’t bite. Come here.”

He didn’t turn his head as the boy walked cautiously toward him. “Sit down,” he said, purposely nonchalant. He promptly noticed a certain smell that had no place being anywhere near a boy, but pushed it to the back of his mind. He’d puzzle it out later.

The kid slid into the copilot seat, and Riddick interpreted the silence to mean that the kid was scared. Why? He saved the kid’s life, after all.

“So. You’re Jack, right?” Riddick peered to the side and watched the kid looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Riddick rolled his eyes and said, “Relax, kid. It’s okay.” There was really nothing much to do as far as piloting the skiff. There wasn’t enough fuel or thrust to get anywhere. The power cells needed fuel to ignite, and there had been just enough to get the trio launched. They had to just float in space and hope that their beacon would be picked up before they ran out of food. Riddick didn't have anything to keep himself from getting bored. Just like on the ship, the kid made him curious. He offered something to focus on, at any rate. That smell… the smell of blood….

“For someone who’s never heard of me, you’re pretty nervous. What’s wrong, kid?” The kid didn't seem scared, but he certainly was taking an interest in the killer. He hadn’t broken that sideways gaze. What the hell did that mean? Riddick didn’t know how else to interpret it other than fear, but that wasn't it.

Jack shrugged. “Nothing. I'm not nervous.”

“Nothing. Sure.” Riddick believed the kid, but he didn't know what else to say. Riddick wasn’t very good at small talk, and the kid wasn’t making it any easier. “Look, we’re going to be stuck in this skiff for a while, so we might as well cut the bullshit. I've got no desire to spend the next several days in silence with you trying to run from me. It’s not like there’s anywhere for you to go as it is.”

Jack didn’t answer, and Riddick was losing patience. He didn’t want to have to deal with a frightened kid up until they were rescued. Who knew how long that would be? He knew that if this kept up, he would just get pissed off. He was no serial killer. He killed strictly for money most of the time. He didn’t have a problem with killing at all, but when there was no monetary gain, he didn’t see the point. He wouldn't ghost him, but the kid’s silence was getting disconcerting.

Riddick was beginning to regret trying to talk to the kid. That fucking smell was really aggravating him. It smelled just like the boy had started menstruating. Impossible. Riddick couldn’t change the evidence his senses faced, however. The paradox was getting aggravating. He was beginning to regret saving the kid’s life, period. It was turning into too much of a headache, trying to puzzle it out. The kid, if his instincts and senses were correct, was a girl.

He hadn’t meant to save him-her-it, at first. When he killed the ‘rat, he had no idea that Jack was in the cryo-locker. He just happened to be on the other side of the pirate. Riddick had just been focused on saving his own ass, which meant that he had to kill as many ‘rats as he could. When he saw the kid and the hoodoo man surrounded, he had a shiv in his hand already. When the kid started smarting off to the ‘rats, Riddick was distantly amused. It reminded him of a cockroach squaring off with him in a slam, right before he introduced it to his boot heel. Those roaches were aggressive little fuckers. They were known to run right at a person. He didn’t mean to relate the kid to a cockroach, but the correlation was there. It reminded Riddick of when he was a posturing, foulmouthed teenager. Even still, that was no excuse for saving the boy’s life.
Getting soft, Riddick. He didn’t care about other people. He was admittedly self-centered. He had to be. He didn’t even trust his employers, and he definitely didn’t trust anyone else.

He was in a mess, definitely. There was no solution that he could see. He was confused. What the hell was he going to do with these two?

~*~

When Jack woke up, she stretched and looked around for a place to go to the bathroom. She had never been in a skiff before, and didn’t even know if there was a bathroom. Logic would dictate that there had to be one onboard, but she couldn’t find one anywhere.

The skiff wasn’t all that big and a few minutes of poking around soon yielded a small curtain. She pushed it aside. Sure enough, there was a small toilet bolted to the floor. No sink, which wasn’t all that surprising. There was, however, a tiny box of sanitizing cloths. She stepped inside and undid her pants, but when she sat down, she found that she had gotten her period. “Shit,” she muttered. She didn’t have any tampons, and she seriously doubted that the old guy or the hit-man would have one handy in a back pocket.

“I’m royally fucked.” She wadded up some toilet paper and made do with that, but she knew that improvising would only get her so far.

After washing her hands as best she could with one of the cloths she found, she sat back down in the main cabin. Imam was still asleep.

Suddenly, Riddick startled her from the cramped cockpit. “Hey, kid.”

Jack froze. She remembered the way he killed those ‘rats with such ease. It impressed her. If only she had that kind of power. Jack forced herself to remember the tough bitch she once was, before Charles, before the hospital. She could handle anything.

She went up to the cockpit and sat down. She told herself to breathe. He tried to make small talk, but she couldn't think of anything to say. She had just gotten her period, and was stuck with two men for God only knew how long. She didn't trust men, and for good reason. She was incredibly tense. Making matters worse, she was sitting next to her hero.

Riddick was asking her why she was so nervous. She didn't know how to tell him that she wasn't scared of him. On the contrary, she practically worshiped him.

"What's wrong, kid?"

"Nothing." There was no way in hell she would let him know that she had her period. That was the only thing that was wrong. She escaped from the ship, and if she managed to keep her masquerade going strong, she would be fine. She didn't trust the holy man, but she had a feeling that Riddick wouldn't hurt her. She didn't want to explain it away as childish hero-worship.

Her good fortune was so unexpected. She hadn't exactly followed his career her whole life, but whenever he surfaced on the news, she took serious interest. Riddick, in person, saving her life? It was so unpredictable that she didn't know what to expect from him. She was normally pretty good at figuring people out, or how to handle them, at least—she simply trusted no one. Riddick was an unknown variable, however. She didn't want to trust him just because of his reputation, but if he saved her once….

The silence continued, broken only by Imam's intermittent snoring. Jack stared at the stars through the view port.

"Beautiful," she whispered. She remembered seeing things like this from the station where she was born. She hadn't seen it since, and the sight brought vague memories stirring.

Riddick said, surprising her, "Yeah, it is. Most people don't notice it. I've known men who’ve lived their whole lives in space and don't take the time to really look."

Jack wasn't sure how to respond. What do you say to a hit man? She tried to settle for silence, but couldn't stand it.

"I'm not scared of you," she said, somewhat defiantly. It was true. It was a bit unnerving to actually say it, but she had no real fear of him.

Riddick nodded once. "That's good. I don't want to spend the next week tip-toeing around you two."

"Is that how long it will be until we're rescued?" she asked.

"More than likely."

Silence resumed residence in the cockpit. It was a bit more comfortable, though not by much.