He Didn't Come

Jack watched his retreat, and felt a burning hatred deep in her belly. Well, no; she wanted to believe it was hatred, but it was a combination of things, really. It was sorrow and anger, but mostly it was fear. And a huge dash of betrayal—can’t forget about that.

He left. He’d saved her life more than once, back on that ship, but he couldn’t save her when she really needed it, could he? He couldn’t become the protector that she’d always craved… but she’d never even voiced this need to herself, so how could he?

Her keeper, the religious fanatic, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off angrily. I’ll get you for this, Riddick, she fumed.

She thought that she’d managed to turn most of her heart off. After her sister left her at the space station when she was six, the only home she’d ever known, her life had been hell after hell until she learned to control her heart. Finally, after Charles… after working for him, after she recovered from the ‘games’ her sick fuck of a boss made her play… she turned what was left of her fragile heart into a cold lump of dead meat inside and resolved never to let anyone in again. Ever.

So how had Riddick managed to hurt her like that?

Easy. She let him.

Stupid. You’re so fucking stupid, Jack! she berated herself fiercely. After she learned that she was rescued by a dangerous murderer, that particular murderer, she completely loved the idea. She romanticized it, of course. Some parts of a thirteen-year-old girl’s psyche can never be fully eradicated, traumatic psychological experiences or not. She imagined him to be some kind of Robin Hood martyr-type person. Martyr for what, she didn’t really know. She only knew that he embodied all the strength she knew she would need, so that nobody could ever hurt her again.

He was Riddick! He was invincible. But unfortunately, that impenetrable shield had come down for her, and she couldn’t understand why he left after he looked at her like that, spoke to her like that. Especially when I had that freak-out on the Reliance.

No, she didn’t want to think about that. She pushed it out of her mind and concentrated on the fact Riddick that hadn’t seen that side of her. She supposed she was just being stupid, but he seemed like he cared about her. He seemed pretty tense when he was saying goodbye.

Oh, God…trying to say goodbye. I lost the only chance I’ll ever have, Jack thought with growing realization. She couldn’t identify just what chance it was, but she sensed that something precious fled from her grasp that first day in New Mecca.

That precious thing had been Riddick. Riddick… of all people to develop a fixation on, she had to go and pick the most dangerous man in the Consortium. Although she felt oddly reassured by his subtle strength, the sane part of her mind reminded her that he was wanted for over two dozen murders. Yet she somehow believed that he wouldn’t hurt her.

And he hadn’t really hurt her physically. He made sure that she was well taken care of in that department, actually. Seeing to it that she slept okay and got fed; things like that. He even offered to get tampons at the space station! She assured him that she was done for the month, but that she appreciated his offer. It was very strange. He treated them as though they were simply another necessity, with the grave indifference he displayed towards everything, including himself. It took her by surprise because he just didn’t seem like the kind of guy to offer to do things like that, much less care about anyone else’s needs at all.

Jack had thought she had seen a good person in Riddick. She thought she had finally found someone that she could trust not to hurt her.

She had stupidly developed an imaginary bond with him. It was Riddick! He was strong, he was like the devil, he was like her god. He represented everything she craved. He represented security, sheer physical stability. Why he did so was beyond her, but he did.

She’d been wrong again, of course. The last time she’d trusted someone she was six and stupid, and it had ruined her life. And now Jack had been betrayed by the only person she felt like she could truly trust again.

Imam’s God really sucked.

~*~

Riddick concentrated coolly on the ship. It was small, but in good condition. Mercs usually had decent stuff. They were rarely certified law enforcement officials, though. Occasionally he would come across one who was legitimate, but for the most part, they were nothing but bounty hunters. The Alliance relied on them to do their dirty work. At least, when they were paid enough. Nothing but mercenaries, they usually give their skills to the highest bidder, but they were treacherous.

They would betray their employer without a moment’s notice or a second thought as soon as a better opportunity came along. Many of them devoted all of their time tracking down escaped convicts such as Riddick. Most retained their independence from the Alliance and utilized scanners, much like the pirates used, to intercept radio transmissions that clued them into jobs that needed doing. In that case, it was winner takes all and sometimes several mercs would go after the same target. They would do anything, really, and were doubly dangerous when they had official jobs direct from the Alliance. They would have the protection of the Alliance in that case, which pretty much gave them free license to do whatever the fuck they wanted or needed to do in order to get the job done. Some of them were somewhat honest, but they were representatives of the underside of the Alliance, tools commonly employed but always expendable.

Riddick quickly hacked the electronic lock and slunk aboard, confident that no one had seen him. The ship appeared to be set up for a three-man crew. A captain and two mates. Perfect. Now, should he wait in here and kill them, or go hunt them down? He liked the idea of a hunt, actually. His nerves were still slightly jaded from the way Jack had looked at him, with her eyes so full of reproach and pain. A hunt would give him something else to focus on, something to calm his nerves.

It was for her own good! She had no idea what kind of life Riddick led, and a hormonal teenager tagging along was death to a man like him. Unpredictable, emotional, and dangerous, both to him and to herself. It only made sense to leave her with Imam. It was best for her.

But since when had he started caring about what was best for other people? Survival was the only game he knew, and that meant his own survival before anyone else’s.

Just when had he become so different from everyone else, anyway? Riddick pondered this, sitting down in the pilot’s seat. The girl was the only one who’d looked at him like that, as though he were worth giving a damn about, instead of simply fearing and loathing him, in about twenty years. As a kid, perhaps. He’d had it rough, sure, but he’d survived just fine.

“I wasn’t living back then. I was just surviving.”

The ex-con who’d completed part of his parole volunteering at the juvenile center had definitely made an impression on the young Richard Riddick, but it wasn’t the one the counselors had wanted. Sitting in the back row of a cramped classroom that smelled of sweat, hate, fear, and oddly enough, of sex, he’d contemplated the shadow-eyed speaker. It was one of those ‘let’s scare the crap out of these kids to they’ll at least pretend to behave’ ploys. They never worked on Riddick, though. He was too strong, he figured… and he was. He also thought that the washed-up former “menace to society” was a pansy-ass government whore. He’d gotten his freedom from prison, but only by serving part of his parole as the virtual slave of the government of whatever shit-hole planet that had caught him. There were hundreds of these reformed bad-asses spread out across the galaxy, trading their dignity and self respect for fresh air and real clothes.

Riddick had been thirteen at the time, and vowed that he would never yield. He would never bend to them, not even if it meant serving his whole fucking life in prison.

Of course, he’d gotten out fairly easily, at least the first time. As he built a reputation he found himself in prison pretty frequently at first, but even as they kept upping the security he found new ways to beat them. He would never yield, he reminded himself each time someone managed to catch him. Never.

Though he was adrift in unpleasant memories, his senses were as alert as ever and he recognized the approach of the mercs whose ship he’d chosen for his own. He pulled his knife and smiled eerily to himself. This was where Riddick the man occupied a small corner of his mind and Riddick the killer took deadly control.

It was time to dance.

He slid out of the pilot’s seat and lightly ran the sharp edge of his shiv against his palm. The blade was in perfect order, and he anticipated finally putting it to good use after the long ride in the skiff.

Shit. Thinking of the skiff brought Jack’s betrayed face swimming up to blind him with guilt that clawed at him even worse than before. Riddick the man emerged again, and the agents were approaching… he could feel the vibrations of their feet thrumming through the floor and into his own boots. Riddick the man had no problems with killing, though it was a bit easier when the deadly-cold side of him was in control. He decided not to worry about it at the moment, though he knew he was going to have to puzzle it out later. He took a moment to conceal himself in shadow. Perfect timing.

Two ill-kempt men staggered into the craft, obviously drunk. This was going to be too easy. Wait… where was the third? One of the men turned around and exited the small ship. His departure made Riddick begin to rapidly rethink the situation. This was supposed to be easy. Easy kill, easy ship, easy escape.

The remaining merc called out after his partner in a slurred voice, “Move it, you two.”

Ah. Riddick relaxed a fraction. The other merc was just lagging behind a bit, probably feeling the effects of his night out more harshly than his partners.

Wait… a woman?