Metallic
folder
M through R › Pitch Black
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
2,753
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › Pitch Black
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
2,753
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Pitch Black, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
5
5
***
The city of auruaurus has two main streets, one running north-south and the other east-west. They run almost as far as the edge of the city in both directions, and in a city that spans one thousand twelve miles east-west and nine hundred seventy-eight miles north-south, those are long roads. Traffic signals little the sky, floating electronics at every junction, with eighteen levels of traffic. Johns was on the lowest level, the pedestrian sidewalk, twenty feet below the last tier of automotive traffic.
The city was split into administrative sectors to allow ease of navigation, numbered from one to eight thousand twelve, each encompassing its own city-sized area. Johns was walking in sector seventeen, just east of the city centre, in the sector imaginatively named East Central. The sector was bisected horizontally by a section of Main Street, with perhaps eight hundred streets running off of it. He was walking on west on Main, almost at the corner of eighty-sixth. Thirteen streets to go.
Above him the traffic roared, and around him the rain beat against the pavement. There was no silence on Centauri, at least not for the average citizen. Johns had heard stories on his last visit about the rich leaders of the gambling syndicates who had special rooms in their homes outfitted with high-grade soundproofing. He’d been in a soundproof room once. Top-grade military soundproofing, painted bright, blinding white, so white it had hurt his eyes, until they’d turned off the lights and closed the doors. Then it was black as night and all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart. It wasn’t an experience he’d exactly enjoyed, being alone in the dark with the eerie sound of the blood pumping through his veins. It made him shudder to remember it. But right then he could almost have believed it was worth it. The traffic was just too fucking loud. He wished the rain would stop.
But the rain never stopped.
He check his watch and saw 2pm before he realised it was useless. Centauri had a twenty-seven hour day. What did that make it? His head hurt and his heart was pounding; he couldn’t think straight to work it out and he guessed it didn’t matter anyway. Nine hours since his last injection. No wonder he felt so spectacularly shitty. Give it another fifteen minutes and he’d be shaking and throwing up. He wished he had the morphine with him. Maybe he needed to stop by his room before he went to the boarding house. Maybe he needed some rest. A couple of hours and he’d be good to go. He could get more shells for the shotgun and find his badge – who knew, maybe it’d impress Stacey into giving up Riddick.
Christ, who was he kidding? He just needed to shoot up.
He turned around. A block and a half to his room. He hoped he’d make it before he blacked out.
***
***
The city of auruaurus has two main streets, one running north-south and the other east-west. They run almost as far as the edge of the city in both directions, and in a city that spans one thousand twelve miles east-west and nine hundred seventy-eight miles north-south, those are long roads. Traffic signals little the sky, floating electronics at every junction, with eighteen levels of traffic. Johns was on the lowest level, the pedestrian sidewalk, twenty feet below the last tier of automotive traffic.
The city was split into administrative sectors to allow ease of navigation, numbered from one to eight thousand twelve, each encompassing its own city-sized area. Johns was walking in sector seventeen, just east of the city centre, in the sector imaginatively named East Central. The sector was bisected horizontally by a section of Main Street, with perhaps eight hundred streets running off of it. He was walking on west on Main, almost at the corner of eighty-sixth. Thirteen streets to go.
Above him the traffic roared, and around him the rain beat against the pavement. There was no silence on Centauri, at least not for the average citizen. Johns had heard stories on his last visit about the rich leaders of the gambling syndicates who had special rooms in their homes outfitted with high-grade soundproofing. He’d been in a soundproof room once. Top-grade military soundproofing, painted bright, blinding white, so white it had hurt his eyes, until they’d turned off the lights and closed the doors. Then it was black as night and all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart. It wasn’t an experience he’d exactly enjoyed, being alone in the dark with the eerie sound of the blood pumping through his veins. It made him shudder to remember it. But right then he could almost have believed it was worth it. The traffic was just too fucking loud. He wished the rain would stop.
But the rain never stopped.
He check his watch and saw 2pm before he realised it was useless. Centauri had a twenty-seven hour day. What did that make it? His head hurt and his heart was pounding; he couldn’t think straight to work it out and he guessed it didn’t matter anyway. Nine hours since his last injection. No wonder he felt so spectacularly shitty. Give it another fifteen minutes and he’d be shaking and throwing up. He wished he had the morphine with him. Maybe he needed to stop by his room before he went to the boarding house. Maybe he needed some rest. A couple of hours and he’d be good to go. He could get more shells for the shotgun and find his badge – who knew, maybe it’d impress Stacey into giving up Riddick.
Christ, who was he kidding? He just needed to shoot up.
He turned around. A block and a half to his room. He hoped he’d make it before he blacked out.
***