False Dawn

Chapter 5

Riddick stood at the farthest point away from the main flow of people as he could get. The ledge along the back wall served as a table, with dozens of stools lined up before it. With drink in hand he stood against the thick bar and gazed out across the room.

Most of the people that worked in the surrounding areas were hiding from one thing or another. You didn't end up on this shithole planet making barely enough to scrape by if you weren't hiding from something. But to look at them now you'd think they didn't have a care in the world.

The clubs that ran along the strip came to life every night. Alcohol flowed to loosen pockets, and barely dressed whores moved through the crowd enticing customers to the rooms available on the second floor.

Every single one of the women had come past him at one point or another, each giving him the come-hither look. He'd tried a few of them out. Since he'd discovered sex at the early age of fourteen he'd been taking advantage of every opportunity to get more. But for a reason he refused to acknowledge he'd stopped his nightly visits with the willing whores after just a few nights.

When he'd found himself pumping into a slender naked body and seeing wide green eyes staring up at him he'd tried to shake it off, to just ignore it. But when he'd called out a familiar name at the point of his release he'd been horrified and ashamed. The woman he left that night had just laughed at him. When he'd called out a 'man's' name while dumping his load into her, she'd undoubtedly only thought one thing . . . the worst. She hadn't tried to approach him again after that night, but had given him scornful looks from across the room.

It had taken several weeks for the 'ladies' working the club to take the hint that he was not interested in them. After repeated blunt refusals most had gotten the message and stayed away, going after more promising clientele. He saw the whispered words passed between them, but didn't really give a shit what they thought of him.

One of the 'ladies', a buxom redhead that was attempting to recapture her fading beauty with layers of make-up, had refused to leave him alone. That she kept the drinks coming was the only reason he didn't stop her from returning to him again and again each night. She made a game of rubbing up against him and whispering lewd comments to him. Every night he left smelling of her pungent perfume, and that secretly pleased him. The last thing he wanted was for Jack to realize that he wasn't out doing what she assumed he was. He knew it bothered her that he went out, he knew what she assumed he was doing, and he wanted her to believe just that.

He was ashamed of what he had come to. Wanting a girl that was only half his age. She was innocent, and he refused to take that from her. Johns had done enough, and he often wished he could resurrect that piece of shit so he could have the pleasure of killing him again.

When he'd learned the truth about her age he'd been nearly staggered. They had just celebrated her seventeenth birthday! He smiled to think how well she had hidden behind a few layers of clothes and a bad attitude. As weeks turned into months she literally became a girl before his eyes. Her skinny frame filled out with weight she was putting on, and her hair was growing out. She’d hidden so well beneath a few layers of clothes and a bad haircut. How had he ever mistaken her for a boy?

He'd started training her to defend herself just so they both had something to do. He needed to work out everyday to stay in shape, and it just made sense to toughen her up as well. She was getting better, and he was proud of her. Not many would willingly come up against Big Evil, even just for practice. When their practice had started he’d had no idea it would be so difficult to be that close to her. Pinning her to the mat, or taking her blows was enough to drive him to distraction. And then there was the problem with smelling her. He knew she didn't even fully understand it, and that she was trying to hide it, but he could smell her arousal, and it was torture.

Riddick growled and tried to stop the thoughts of her. He finished off his drink, and then signaled with the empty glass for a new one. His 'waitress' nodded with that coy smile, obviously pleased at the invitation to come over and grope him again. The woman had as many hands as an octopus had arms, he thought with a chuckle.

He scanned the room again for probably the hundredth time this hour. Old habits were hard to break. He hated spending so much time out in public, but he would choose this over an evening alone with a woman, child, he couldn't touch. When he came back at night she would just rise from the couch where she was endlessly watching the news and smile a goodnight at him before going to bed, long curvy legs left bare by her nightclothes. Was she waiting up for him? It seemed that way, and he liked to think she was, though he hated himself for wanting that. Was he going soft? Damn!

He'd found that when he stayed out really late he would sometimes come home to find her asleep on the couch. God, he loved that. He would stand for long minutes and just watch her sleeping so peacefully. When he finally worked up the nerve to pick her up she would snuggle against him, making him ache even more. He always made sure to take his time carrying her to her room, making the trip take as long as possible. He'd lay her down and watch her smile sleepily as he covered her with the blanket.

His drink arrived, interrupting his shameful but enjoyable thoughts. Minnie sauntered up to him with a broad grin and set the glass down beside his empty one. "Honey, you need a woman to cheer you up. Let me take you upstairs and make you forget your troubles."

Riddick smirked at her, amused at her incessant attempts. He was seriously tempted to relieve himself on her, but knew he wouldn't. It was too much of a shock to realize he was picturing another woman beneath him. "Not tonight, Minnie. Maybe tomorrow."

It was the same thing he said every night and she just smiled up at him as if she knew some great secret. "Okay, honey. You know where to find me when you need it." Again, the same words she said every night. He just nodded and stood still for the next part of the little ritual she had forced on him each night. Instead of stepping around him to take the empty glass she would lean up against him, her heavy breasts smashing against him. Her free hand always came down on him as if by accident, but the light shining in her eyes said differently. On nights when she got really adventurous he would have to pull her hand from his ass or crotch.

"Excuse me, honey," she whispered, her voice suddenly breathy at the contact.

He just smiled patiently at her and nodded, "Thanks for the drink, Minnie."

Her painted eyes stared up at him for a moment, the plea as obvious there as the smell of her arousal. When he didn't react she turned and moved away, letting her fingers trail across his hip. He couldn't help but to smile at her retreating bare back. Then his eyes left her to scan the room again before he leaned back and took a sip of his drink.

After another hour and several more drinks he decided to leave early. Something was different tonight. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he just didn't feel right being in such a crowded place. He normally got quite a few looks, some inviting, most just curious, but tonight it was bothering the hell out of him. He stopped at the bar to settle his bill and leave a tip for Minnie before he headed out into the stifling warm night.

Urika never cooled off. The heat of the sun warmed the tiny planet to nearly unbearable temperatures during the day, which made the warm nights seem wonderfully cool in comparison. The constant sheen of sweat on his skin dried temporarily in the warm breeze as he headed down the street, staying to the shadows out of habit.

He normally took a different way home each night, and sometimes his side trip would take him an extra hour to get home. It was just a way to get to know the area, to know where he could go if he needed to. But tonight he took the shortest route, wanting to reach the relative safety of the house as quickly as possible.

At about the halfway point the streets became almost completely dark because of lack of maintenance and lack of concern. Not that he cared. Removing his goggles so he could see better he immediately noticed a man standing across the street at the entrance of an alley.

Riddick stepped back into the deeper shadows, knowing he hadn't been seen. He watched for a minute and saw the guy looking nervously both ways before looking back into the alley.

He shook his head. Fucking criminals everywhere, and they think I'm bad. He edged forward, staying out of sight. He pitied the poor sucker who was probably being torn apart in that alley, but it wasn't any of his concern. Jack was at home waiting for him, and he didn't care to make this his business.

When he'd gotten far enough past the alley to where he wasn't worried about being seen he started to walk faster. A warm breeze rushed past him and he froze, his head coming up to catch the scent again. No!

He could smell blood, and fear, and woman. His woman. No!

It didn't occur to him that for the past several hours and for weeks before that he had been trying to convince himself that Jack was definitely not for him. The predator had taken over. Jack was in that alley, and they were all going to die.

It took him less than a minute to sneak up behind the 'lookout'. He went down without a sound, his throat cut from ear to ear. Riddick didn't wait for the body to hit the ground before he was moving into the alley.

Light spilled from around a corner at the back of the alley and he saw that there was an alcove there. As he closed in one man staggered back, and into view, wiping at his bloody nose, but still grinning proudly. "Damn! Bitch mighta put up a fight, but she was worth it!" he bragged loudly to someone still out of sight.

"I doubt it," Riddick growled.

The man jerked his head around at the sound, but it was too late. The shiv coming at him sliced through to the backbone, blood spurting as the man went down.

Riddick was already turning to the next 'dead man'. His eyes swept over Jack's prone body with a detached efficiency, his mind functioning on only one level. She was covered in blood, and bruises were already forming in various places. She appeared to be unconscious, but it was hard to tell.

One man was kneeling at her head, holding both of her arms in a tight grip. The other was just rising, his hands still undoing the fly of his pants. They both froze, staring with wide eyes at their comrade who was now forming a pool on the ground. Riddick wasn't so slow. He only spared enough time to look each of them over with a critical eye, noting a busted lip on one and a crooked and swollen nose on the other. Then the one standing received a well-placed slash, causing his intestines to spill onto the ground despite his efforts to hold them in.

The guy on his knees let go of Jack, revealing skin marred by a tight grip and twisting hands. He pushed himself back and away from her, holding his hands out in an attempt to ward off the inevitable attack. "Please, man, I didn't touch her. They did it all. Please, I didn't do nothin."

Riddick stopped and stared down at the man. His breathing was short controlled pants, his entire body tensed, poised for the kill. "Because you didn't get to her yet I'll let you choose," he snarled.

The greasy little guy cowered back further at the rumbled words that seemed to come from everywhere. "Choose what, man? I didn't do nuthin'!"

"How you want to die," was all Riddick managed to say. He could barely restrain himself from ripping into the fucker, wanting to feel the satisfaction of warm blood flowing.

The guy looked at his friend who was still clutching at his leaking organs and gasping in a thick bubbly way. He immediately started crying.

Riddick didn't wait for the answer. His shiv slashed through bone and muscle, and the man's head was no longer where it should have been. He stood for one moment to savor the taste of killing again. Strange what a person could miss.

Then he was on his knees, his hands hovering uncertainly over the form that had once been his beautiful Jack.