Show Me Your Eyes (Part 5)

Tater Chip Girl

On any other planet, on an ordinary day, a desert sunset would be the object of awe and admiration; lovers would kiss in its fading glow; desert peoples would sing in the spreading dusk among billowing tents as they lit cooking fires and prepared the evening meal. Tourists would take photos of the multi-hued sky to show to envious friends when they returned home.

On any other planet.

On an ordinary day.

As Shazza pushed the sandcat towards the crash ship at top speed over the bumpy red rubble, her passengers turned to watch the swiftly darkening horizon. The double rings of the neighboring planet loomed over them at a crazy angle as the planet itself rose with frightening speed, its bulk heaving into view and hastening to block the light of the three suns, which were now so closely aligned they shone almost as one, a brilliant commingling of orange and blue light.

Riddick viewed this spectacle with detached amusement. He looked over at Johns, who was standing up in the middle of the cat and holding onto the roll bar. This is what happens when ya think with only *one* brain, dickhead, he thought. From this angle, he could see Johns' eyes wandering over to Carolyn's butt as she stood up front behind the cab, next to Paris.

He shook his head and snorted. Here they were in a race for their lives, and all that drugged-up merc could think about was a piece of ass he didn't get. No telling what he'd pull next. Better keep an eye on him.

When the sandcat ground to a halt by the crash ship, everyone leaped off and hurried to their tasks. Johns, Imam and Riddick quickly went inside and unlocked and carried out the power cells they needed for the skiff, dumping them in the back of the cat. Paris ran to one of the damaged shipping containers, hoping to recover at least a few of his more costly things. Jack got out and raised his goggles, gazing fearfully at the darkening sky.

As the last cell thumped into the bed of the sandcat, the three suns merged, sending a brief burst of brilliant gold through one of the rising planet's rings before fading to a dull glow in the fast-growing shadows. The solar-powered motor of the sandcat slowed and spun to a stop with a disappointed moan, leaving them in silence.

Then they heard the sounds.

The screeches, clicks and growls echoed, ghostlike, all around them as the light continued to fade. They seemed to come from everywhere at once, then move and fade and concentrate near the large group of tall, hollow mud spires where Fry had found Zeke's remains earlier that day. It sounded as though giant underground machines were waking up and preparing to burst through the desert floor.

Suddenly, the spires came alive. Thousands of flying things zoomed noisily from the tip of each one, spiraling skyward, their cries eerily resembling the sound of incoming missiles. They poured upward, like water in zero gravity, circling and circling, forming a huge dark helix of winged bodies against the dim sky.

By now it was too dark for anyone but Riddick to see clearly. He thought that was probably for the best, considering what there was to see.

"How many are there?' asked Johns.

Riddick didn't answer. He didn't see the point. All you had to do was listen, and you'd know there were more than you could possibly count. And oh, the dance they were doing - playing with the sky, joyful in their liberation, spreading their wings and celebrating the darkness they loved - it was mesmerizing. The primal ballet went on and on, filling the sky with graceful, hurtling bodies. "Beautiful..." Riddick said under his breath.

Then the helix dissolved, the dance ended, and a large group of the things headed straight towards them.

"People?!" Paris yelled from the doorway of the shipping container, snapping them all out of their fearful trance. "Just a suggestion, but perhaps you should *FLEE!*"

Fry sprang into action. "Come on!!!" she yelled, leaping from the sandcat and sprinting towards Paris. Everyone started running, casting terrified glances over their shoulders at the fast-approaching cloud of creatures.

"Shiiiiit!" Shazza slammed her hand on the steering wheel in frustration, then grabbed the roll bar and swung herself out of the cat's driver' seat and joined the others in their flight. Riddick ran close behind her, bringing up the rear.

"COME ON!" Paris yelled, waving his hands frantically.

Finally, most of them managed to clamber into the shipping container just before it was buzzed by several dozen of the low-flying creatures. They banked sharply and circled back towards Riddick and Shazza, who were still running. Fry watched from inside the doorway. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon..." she muttered under her breath. The things moved up swiftly behind the two runners just as they topped a ridge of dirt carved by the ship when it hit the ground.

"GET DOWN!" Fry screamed.

Riddick and Shazza both dove over the ridge, landing and rolling to a stop side by side in a wide furrow dotted with small debris from the ship. Riddick lay on his side looking right at Shazza, who crouched on her stomach, elbows in the air, hands poised to push her off from the ground. She froze, tensed and ready, desperately darting her eyes around her.

I can make it, she thought. If I run now, I can make it.

She's gonna run, thought Riddick. Stay down, stupid. Still on his side, he carefully slid his hand over the dirt until it bumped into some unidentifiable twist of metal wreckage. He gripped it tightly, waiting and watching.

Fry saw it too. "No...no..no..." She shook her head, willing Shazza not to get up.

When Riddick saw Shazza's muscles tense and begin to push her up, he slid the piece of metal out in front of her, snagging her foot and bringing her crashing back down onto the ground. The creatures were close; he could almost feel the breeze from their wings. In the last split-second before they were on him, he rolled onto his stomach and slammed her down flat with his arm. She tried to scream, but he'd knocked the air out of her. All she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and wait. They lay motionless as the screeching river of alien things whizzed over them, mere inches from touching their flesh. The wind of their passing raised tendrils of Shazza's hair, making them wave crazily over the back of her bowed head.

Finally, when the things had passed, Riddick let go of her and stood up, looking around and casually dusting off his hands. Shazza, still stunned and out of breath, lay on the ground for a moment, not entirely sure what had just happened.

Riddick headed off to join the others. "You comin'?' he asked Shazza over his shoulder.

She slowly came up off the ground, looking around warily, ready for the creatures to show up again. "Yeah..."

They walked together for a few seconds before she spoke up. "Thanks," she said nervously, not looking at Riddick.

He didn't answer.

In the doorway, Paris grabbed Jack's shoulders, gripping them tightly. "Please," he said quietly, "I really think we should go inside. We need to close the door." He pulled Jack inside with him, followed by Shazza, who shot Riddick a tight, uncomfortable smile as she went by.

Fry and Riddick were the last ones left outside. As they turned to go in, they heard the things start whooping loudly, and a crumbling sound like a plaster wall collapsing. Riddick pushed his goggles up onto his forehead and looked out at the cluster of mud spires - the creatures were knocking them down from the inside. He could see their heat signatures as they rose from the dusty wreckage, filling the sky with shimmering dots of light visible only to him.

"What is it, Riddick?' Fry whispered tensely, straining to see what he was looking at. "What is it now?'

"Well, let's just say..." he answered, "I ain't your worst nightmare anymore."

As they watched, the eclipse moved into its final position, sending a last desperate burst of light over the horizon before winking out and leaving them in total blackness.

When they'd entered the shipping container and pulled the door shut behind them, Fry started inching forward in the dark, moving towards the thin, distant beam of a handlight in a passage somewhere ahead of them. Her foot caught on something, and she uttered a little cry as she felt herself begin to fall. Riddick caught her, pulled her upright, then swung her up into his arms and started carrying her towards the others. Neither one spoke as Riddick held her against him and stepped carefully over the obstacles in his path, finally setting her down just outside the dimmest reaches of the handlight's glow, where no one could see them.

She swayed a little as she tried to stand on the uneven metal surface, and Riddick steadied her with his hands, placing them firmly on her hips. Her heart jumped and started beating crazily when she remembered what had happened the last time he'd touched her like that. Knock it off, Fry, she told herself firmly. This is no time for a trip down friggin' Memory Lane. She swallowed hard and tried to calm herself. "Thanks," she whispered weakly as they stood there.

"My pleasure," he whispered back, his lips against her ear. She shivered at the hot puff of breath on her skin, and then started walking carefully ahead into the light to join the others. Riddick let his hands linger on her until the last possible moment as she slowly slid out of his grip. He didn't want to let go. He knew she didn't want him to, either.

But now was not the time to dwell on that.

Johns was carrying the handlight they'd seen. Soon after they joined the group, Imam found another on the floor and turned that on as well, sweeping the beam around the small, tilted compartment in which they now found themselves. Flicking noises and tiny, repeated spits of orange sparks told them that Paris was desperately trying to make his old-fashioned cigarette lighter work.

"You remember the boneyard?" said Johns, pointing his light around too. "These just might be the fuckers that killed every livin' thing on this planet."

Shazza sighed and leaned her back against a wall. "What the bloody hell are we gonna do now?"

An orange tongue of flame leaped up in front of Paris as his lighter finally came to life. "Are these the only lights we have?" he said in a trembling voice, looking around. "Is - is this everything?"

Fry kicked and poked through all the pieces of junk littering the floor. "No, there's a cutting torch on the floor here somewhere, I just can't find it..."

Imam raised his hand, signaling for silence. "Wait! Please, everyone..."

Everyone stopped talking and froze, alert and listening. Some of them leaned in and placed their ears against the wall. The creatures, which were whooping, clicking and thumping just on the other side of it, sounded close enough to touch.

"Why do they do that, make that sound?" Jack whispered.

"Perhaps it's the way they see," said Imam, "with sound..."

Everyone whipped around to face the other end of the compartment as the noises got closer. There was a loud metallic scraping, then a sound similar to a child running a stick across the pickets of a fence. The noises trailed up one wall, down another, then over the metal above them as Johns and Imam traced their path with the beams of their handlights. It sounded as though the creatures were almost in the room with them.

Fry swallowed nervously. "There could be a breach in the hull, I dunno..."

"C'mon, Johns," said Riddick, his tone mocking. "You got the big-gauge." Here's your chance to play hero, big boy, he thought.

Johns snorted. "I'd rather piss glass. Why don't *you* go fuckin' check?"

There was a sudden flurry of activity as Paris jumped up and took off in the direction they'd come. "I'm not staying here for one more second!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"Where you goin?' Johns turned around and aimed his handlight towards the fleeing man. "Hey! Come back here!"

"Paris!" Fry shouted, going after him.

Johns followed. "Sit him down!"

"Paris, get back here!" Shazza started moving too, but stopped when she saw that Imam and Fry had grabbed Paris and pushed him down into a sitting position.

"You don't know what's *out* there!" Fry yelled into his face as she gave him a hard shake.

"I know what's in *here*!" he yelled back in a desperate, terrified voice.

Imam had found another door and was using a piece of twisted metal pipe to force it. As soon as he and his sons yanked it open, everyone quickly climbed through into a small chamber piled with shipping crates and debris. Imam secured the door with a padlock, and then leaned back against it, heaving a sigh of relief.

"Now we're trapped in a much *smaller* space," whined Paris. "I *hate* this!"

As the alien noises continued, Johns shone his handlight around the compartment, looking for another way out. Suddenly, a foot-long claw pierced the metal door next to Imam's head. He cried out and ran over to stand beside Johns, who began firing shorts bursts at the door.

Paris, who was sitting behind Johns, gasped and jumped at a sudden small, explosive sound beside him, and turned to see that Riddick had found the cutting torch and lit it using the flame from Paris' lighter. As Johns continued firing his gun, Riddick cut a large hole in the wall and kicked through it to the next compartment, handing the torch to Fry, who crept in bearing it aloft right behind him.

When everyone was in, Johns and Imam replaced the piece Riddick had cut from the wall and shoved a heavy cargo case against it to hold it shut. Riddick walked ahead into the blackness of the compartment, his goggles raised to his forehead, moving past hanging cargo netting and tumbled crates and pallets to see if any of the creatures had made it this far in.

They had.

As Riddick approached the far end, he heard the unmistakable sound of tearing flesh and breaking bones. He stood very still, his senses alert, tracing the source of the sounds to a tall stack of barrels on his left. Atop the stack was one of the creatures eagerly ripping apart and devouring one of its own. Silently, Riddick backed away, his face fading into a pool of blackness between two toppled piles of cargo.

Just then, Hassan's frightened face appeared beside him, fearfully peeking around. Too late, the boy heard the noises of the creature's meal, and backed against the wall in horror.

"*Extremely* bad timing," said Riddick in a low voice, partially emerging from his hiding place so Hassan could see his face.

The thing atop the barrels had heard them, and was now crouched there alertly, switching its tail like a cat, its face towards the two humans as it sounded out their precise locations using its sensitive sonar. The terrified Hassan, shaking and breathing rapidly, darted his eyes from side to side, uncertain which way to go.

He's a goner, thought Riddick. "Just don't run..." he said softly - as if this scared little boy would actually listen to him.

Fry, who was watching Shazza cut into the next compartment with the torch, heard his voice, but was unable to pinpoint its location. "Riddick?"

"Don't...stop...burning..." Riddick answered slowly, his eyes never leaving the creature in front of him.

Fry frowned - something in his voice didn't sound right. "Gimme your light." Fry held out her hand to Johns, who gave her his handlight, and she walked off to look for Riddick.

Now the creature was moving, making its way noisily over the cargo stacks to Riddick and Hassan. It wanted a taste of this new prey. They slowly turned their faces upward as the thing appeared above them, perching precariously on the large, wobbly crate behind them. Balancing itself carefully, it opened and extended one of its huge, sharp claws and reached down to the two humans.

Imam's frantic voice came to them from the other end of the compartment. "Hassan! Where is Hassan?"

Emboldened by the sound of his father's voice, Hassan cast his eyes about, preparing to run to safety. Riddick saw the boy's eyes flicking wildly back and forth between the creature's approaching claw and the direction in which his father lay. Nice knowin' ya, kid, he thought.

And Hassan was gone, running blindly off into the darkness. Riddick watched as the boy ran straight into an ambush - a second creature that lay in wait reached out and sliced him in half instantly. The thing poised above Riddick's head launched itself from its perch and hurtled across the compartment to join its fellow for a fresh meal of human meat.

As the sickening rending noises began, and Hassan was devoured, Riddick turned his head and found himself almost face to face with yet another of the things - now it was it was time for *him* to run. He took off at top speed, rounding the corner and heading towards the others. He knew the thing was right behind him - maybe Johns could shoot it before it got him.

Halfway there, he was blinded by the beam of one of the handlights being shined directly in his face - they hadn't seen him coming. Riddick cried out in pain, throwing up a hand to protect his eyes, and fell into a side passage. The creature pursuing him landed, cheated of its meal, and leaped immediately back up to the top of the cargo stacks. Johns raised his gun and fired blindly where he thought he'd seen it go as Fry tried to follow it with the handlight.

Nobody moved when the gunfire ended. They looked around, sweeping the handlight's beam near the ceiling, unsure if the creature had been hit. A prone Riddick waited silently where he had fallen. Without warning, the body of the thing came crashing down in front of Johns and Fry, who screamed and jumped back, staring breathlessly at it for a tense moment.

"Is it alive?" Shazza whispered, as Fry shone her light on it. They noticed that wherever the beam from Fry's handlight hit the creature's body, its skin sizzled, smoked and blistered.

"It's like the light is scalding it," said Paris.

Fry ran her light slowly all along the body, checking. The effect was the same. "It hurts them," Fry said. "Light actually hurts them."

They all straightened up quickly and cast their beams about when they heard more noises echoing around them. His eyes recovered now, Riddick rejoined them.

"Hassan?" Imam called out. "Is that Hassan?"

"We'll burn a candle for him later." Johns shook his head and started walking back the way they'd come. "C'mon, let's get outta here."

Fry looked over the pile of equipment in the middle of the tiny room they'd entered and sealed themselves into. The flaming cutting torch sat in the center of everything, on top of a crate, serving as a sort of campfire. "Okay," she said appraisingly. "So we got one cutting torch. We got two handlights. There's gotta be something we can rip outta the crash ship."

Paris spoke up. "Spirits. Anything over forty-five proof burns rather well." He was clearly displeased at having to waste his precious libations in this manner, but then he was the one who said life was tolerable when one had the luxuries. And right now - on this planet, at least - staying alive was definitely a luxury.

"How many bottles ya got?" asked Fry.

Paris thought for a moment. "I don't know - maybe ten."

"Light tubing," Shazza piped up. "There's gotta be a few dozen meters of that. The power source is fairly small, we should be able to take it with us if we all pull it."

"Good." Fry turned to Johns. "Okay, Johns - you got some flares..." she paused to think. "So - maybe we got enough light."

"Enough for fuckin' what?" Johns replied testily. It was close to spike time again, and he was feeling it.

She glared at him. "We stick to the plan. We get the four cells back to the skiff, we're off this rock."

"Look," said Paris, moving over to stand beside Fry, "I hate to ruin our beautiful theory with ugly fact, but that sandcat is solar. It won't run at night."

"So we carry the cells," Fry said resolutely. "We drag them, whatever it takes."

Jack looked around with a terrified expression. "You mean tonight?" he asked in a trembling voice. "With all those things still out there?"

"Allright, now how long can this last - a few hours?" said Johns. "A day, tops?"

"I had the impression from the model," Imam answered in a solemn tone, looking down and fiddling with his prayer beads, "the two planets were moving as one, and there would be a lasting darkness."

"Mmm..." Johns pondered that for a second. "These suns gotta come up sometime, and if these creatures are phobic about light, then we just sit tight, and we let the sun come up." He looked up at Fry as if to say, see? problem solved.

"I'm sure somebody else said that," she answered. "Locked inside that coring room." Goddamn chickenshit, she thought. You were pretty fucking brave when you had me bent over that barrel, asshole.

Shazza, who was standing next to Fry, looked down and shuddered, remembering the piles of skeletons they'd found in the coring room pit - and how Zeke was now one of them.

"We need to think about everybody now," Johns shot back, his voice raised. "Especially the kid," he said, pointing at Jack. "How scared's this boy gonna be out there in the dark - "

"Don't use him like that," said Fry, her tone flat and threatening.

"Like what?"

"As a smokescreen," she said. "You deal with your own fear."

Johns was getting tired of this bitch jerking him around, usurping his authority. He sure as hell wasn't trusting his life to some slut who fucked convicts. Or tried to sacrifice his life to save her own. "Why don't you shut your fuckin' mouth for two seconds and let me come up with a plan that doesn't involve mass suicide!"

Fry and Johns locked eyes for a long moment as the aliens whooped and scratched at the metal walls outside their hiding place. "I'm waiting," she said softly, a challenge in her voice.

He said nothing, just stared back at her. Keep it up, bitch, he thought. You'll get yours, believe me.

"How much d'you weigh, Johns?"

Johns rolled his eyes at her. "What's it matter, Carolyn?"

"How much?" she barked harshly, interrupting him.

He rolled his eyes again and sighed. Was there a point to this? "Around seventy-nine kilos, to be exact, but - "

"'Cause you're seventy-nine kilos of gutless white meat, and that's why you can't think of a better plan - "

"Is that fuckin' right..." Johns leaped to his feet, whipping out his gun. That's it - she's history. Riddick stood up beside him. Shazza jumped protectively in front of Fry, her hands balled into fists.

Johns aimed the gun at the underside of Riddick's chin. "Where *you* goin'?"

Imam shook his head sadly, disheartened by the arguments and outbursts. "Solves *nothing*..."

There was a light tapping noise, and Johns felt something striking gently and repeatedly at his crotch. Riddick raised his goggles to his forehead and turned to look pointedly at him as the tapping continued. He knew without checking that Riddick was holding the same knife there now that he'd used when Johns had tried to rape Fry earlier.

"Okay..." he whispered, slowly lowering his gun and backing away to take his seat again. His eyes were hard as glass, filled with a cold deadly rage as he and Riddick stared each other down.

You're dead, motherfucker, they said.

We'll see about that, Riddick's eyes said back.

Fry stepped over to crouch beside the terrified Jack. "They're afraid of our light," she said softly, putting a comforting arm around him. "That means we don't have to be so afraid of them."

"And you are sure you can get us there?" asked Imam. "Even in the dark?"

"No," said Fry. "I can't." She stood up and nodded towards Riddick. "But he can."

All eyes turned expectantly to him as his own turned to Carolyn. We can do this, her expression said. We're a team, you and I.

It's sure lookin' that way, said his.

None of which escaped Johns' notice.

Show Me Your Eyes (Part 6)

Holding the flaming cutting torch in one hand and bracing herself with the other, Fry carefully pushed open the sliding metal door of the shipping container with her hip and swept the torch back and forth just outside, making sure the way was clear. Things were fairly quiet now - the only sign of the creatures at the moment was some far-off whooping and flapping. With luck, it would stay that way.

Imam followed close behind, bearing a handlight, as Fry cautiously stepped out onto the dirt. Paris came next, carrying a crate full of his finest alcohol, which he'd salvaged from inside. Then came the boys, huddled together and clinging to each other as they looked around fearfully. Shazza and Riddick were next. Johns brought up the rear, walking backwards and sweeping the darkness behind them with his gun and handlight.

"Stay close," Fry whispered as they made their way to the torn hulk of the ship's main hull. When they reached it, Fry walked ahead as the others held back at her signal, using her torch to check for any alien presence. But she knew that wasn't enough.

"Riddick," she whispered, turning back to look at him. He came forward, raising his goggles to his forehead. As he brushed past Fry, he laid a hand on her thigh, gently moving her out of his way. His stomach gave a tiny leap as he touched her, glad for even this brief contact.

He stepped up to the entrance, his silvery gaze carefully and slowly scanning the dark interior. Nothing. "Looks clear," he announced, replacing his goggles over his eyes.

Johns advanced cautiously to stand beside him, his gun and light aimed into the wreck's interior. In a sudden blur of sound and motion, one of the alien things came swooping out of the wreckage, directly towards them, knocking Johns and Riddick aside in its haste to escape the handlight's beam. The others ducked as it swept over them, heading out into the blackness to join its countless companions.

Fry was the first one up, holding up her torch to check on the others, who were still cowering on the ground.

Johns lay on his back where he'd fallen when the creature knocked him down. "You said *clear*!" he hissed at Riddick.

"I said it *looks* clear," Riddick replied calmly.

Johns flicked his eyes warily to the wreckage, then back to Riddick. "Well, what's it look like now?"

From his prone position across from Johns, Riddick carefully raised his head to peer into the twisted metal shell again. "Looks clear," he said, turning back to Johns.

Once inside, the group wasted no time. Shazza, Fry and Jack set to work extracting the lengths of blue light tubing from the conduits on the walls. Paris settled himself on the floor to make wicks from pieces of rope, which he stuffed deep into his bottles of flammable alcohol to serve as lamps. Johns gathered more ammo for his gun. Imam threw down a broken section of an antique rowboat (with no small amount of silent cringing from Paris) to serve as a sled, and began loading power cells onto it. The power source for the light tubing soon joined them, as did Paris' crate of completed makeshift lamps.

"I'm runnin' about ten paces ahead," Riddick instructed Fry as she followed him to the door. "I want light on my back, but not in my eyes." He shot a quick look at Jack as he passed him. "And check your cuts - these bad boys know our blood now." The seated Jack looked up fearfully at Riddick's words.

When everything was ready, Riddick pushed open the heavy metal door; the group stood huddled together in the doorway, reluctant to move forward.

"Are we actually going to do this?" Paris said in a hushed voice, holding one of his flaming bottle lamps. The others glanced at him, clearly thinking the same thing, then back out into the darkness, where distant - and not-so-distant - alien noises could be heard.

"We stay together, we keep the light burning," Fry said firmly, hoping she sounded confident enough. "That's all we gotta do to live through this thing." She looked around to make sure everyone was there. Johns was missing, and she knew right away where to find him. Moving back through the group, she went to the rear section of the wreck and ascended the metal stairs to the next floor.

Sure enough, there he sat, leaning back against a wall, eyes closed, his face dreamy and distant. One of his hands toyed languorously with a freshly emptied morphine cartridge, the contents of which were currently making their way through his system. Fry shuddered when she saw him, remembering the last time she'd come upon him while he was spiking, and what he'd tried to do to her. Well, there was no chance of that now - not with Riddick and the others right below them, within earshot.

"You ready, Johns?" she asked, trying not to sound too disgusted.

"Mmmmm...." he moaned back at her, still wrapped in the cozy blanket of his high.

She sighed and tapped her hand impatiently on the stair railing. "Look, we're just wasting light here."

Johns heaved a big, relaxed sigh. "You give 'im the cells, and a ship, and he'll leave you all out there to die," he slurred after a moment. "He'll leave all of you. Even you, Carolyn." He half-opened his eyes and rolled them over to look at her. "You think he'll treat you special just 'cause you fucked him?"

Fry kept her face expressionless, ignoring his dig. "I don't get it, Johns. What is so goddamn valuable in your life that you're worried about losing? Is there anything at all?" She turned to go back downstairs. "Besides your next spike, that is..." she shot back over her shoulder.

A few minutes later, Johns came down and joined them, taking his place at the front of the sled with Imam, directly behind Riddick. It was time. Riddick pushed his goggles up onto his forehead, took a last look around, and started running. The rest of the group jogged along around the sled, following the strap of small lights he'd slung onto his back. Jack and Suleiman, Imam's remaining son, ran on either side; Paris, Fry and Shazza ran behind. All of them except Riddick wore a coil of light tubing slung over one shoulder, each coil attached to the power supply in the sled by a long, glowing thread. From above, they resembled a thin, wobbly spider made of blue neon spaghetti.

Had they seen what lurked just outside the bluish glow, what silently parted before them and closed behind them like water as they passed -

Had they seen, they just might have run a bit faster.

But Riddick saw.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, he thought, for I am the meanest motherfucker in the valley.

Just bring it, you hammerheaded fucks. I dare you.

And he kept running.

Eventually, the group slowed to a walk. The hollow, ghostly whoops of the creatures continued to sound around them. It was hard to tell how close they really were, and impossible to see any of the things.

The cutting torch Paris had been carrying finally guttered and went out with a "foomp". He reached down into his crate of bottle lamps on the sled, knocking one of Johns' flares out onto the ground as he did so. It went rolling over the rocks, leaving the small circle of light they were in.

"Wait!" said Jack, stopping and taking off his coil of light tubing. He scrambled over to the spot where the flare had landed and started feeling around for it.

"Jack!" Fry yelled, too late to stop him. They were halted now, and all eyes were on Jack - or rather, the spot where Jack had been.

Riddick's eyes went past Jack, to the things that waited to pounce on him.

Almost too late, Johns saw them too. He threw off his coil of tubing, cocked his gun, and fired several times into the air over Jack's head. Imam quickly removed his tubing and threw himself to the ground beside Jack, grabbing the boy and rolling him closer to the sled. Fry and Shazza, unable to see all that was happening, kept yelling Jack's name.

In all the confusion, Paris had simply dropped to the ground, still wearing his light tubing, and crouched there, waiting for things to calm down. Riddick stayed where he was, motionless in the dark, waiting. Johns fired more random shots where he thought he'd seen some of the creatures. When one of them braved the light and swooped down on the group, it was finally too much for Paris. He took off, crawling blindly away from the sled, breathlessly chanting, "This can't be happening, this can't be happening..."

"PARIS!" Fry screamed. "COME BACK HERE!"

In his blind panic, he heard nothing, and kept crawling desperately, stretching out the length of tubing connecting him to the power source in the sled. Before anyone could get to it, the power source tipped over and fell onto the ground, disconnecting the tubing and shorting itself out with a spit of blue sparks. It wound down with a mechanical whine as the light gradually faded from the tubing everyone was carrying, leaving them in total darkness.

Nothing more was seen of Paris but a brief burst of flame from the direction he'd gone. Then the crunching and tearing noises began.

Fry started a flare and touched it to the tops of several bottle lamps, which the others then held up, looking around them. Riddick walked back to join them from his spot ahead in the dark.

"Well, it's good to see *you're* okay," said Johns sarcastically.

Riddick ignored him and looked out into the darkness where Paris had gone. The creatures were tearing the man's body apart and running about with the pieces, trying to fend off their hungry companions. He watched as Paris' head was rolled up onto a small ridge and batted around by several of the things.

Fry moved to stand beside him, her breathing still rapid, a flare held high over her head. She heard the noises too, but saw nothing. "Do I even wanna know?' she asked.

Riddick turned and let his eyes linger on her profile in the greenish light cast by the flare. No, you *don't*, he thought. And you won't. Not if I can help it.

They'd been walking for a while now, longer than any of them remembered walking on their first trip to the settlement. And this time, they had to worry about conserving fuel and not getting eaten. Fry's flare started burning out, so she used it to light another of the bottle lamps.

"Are we gettin' close?" Jack whispered.

"Can we pick up the pace?" Fry yelled up to the front of the group.

Suddenly, the sled came to a halt. Johns and Imam aimed their lights at the ground, examining a disturbance in the dirt that looked like something heavy had been recently dragged across it. Something like a sled loaded with power cells.

Johns walked ahead to Riddick, who had also stopped and was down on one knee, a look of concentration on his face. "You wanna tell me what the hell's goin' on?" Johns demanded.

"We crossed over our tracks," Fry whispered in answer to Jack's questioning look.

"What the bloody hell for?" Shazza whispered back. "I thought you said he could get us there."

"Why have we circled?" Imam asked Riddick sternly. "Are we lost?"

Riddick held up a hand for silence "Listen..."

Imam was becoming more agitated. "Do you even know where we are?"

"Listen!" Riddick shouted, quickly standing up.

They listened. The sounds of the creatures were all around them, but seemed to be much louder in the direction they'd been headed.

"Canyon ahead," said Riddick. "I circled once to buy some time to think."

"I think we should go now," said Imam, as the alien screeching got louder.

'Oh, I dunno 'bout that," Riddick replied. "That's Death Row up there. 'Specially with the girl bleeding."

"What?" Johns frowned and looked over at Fry and Shazza, who looked down at themselves to check for wounds. There were none. "What the fuck are you talkin' about?" said Johns. "They're not cut."

"Not them," said Riddick, turning to look past the women to Jack, who was standing between them. "Her."

Fry and Shazza looked confused for a moment, then turned abruptly and looked at Jack. The girl started trembling and backing away, her frightened eyes skittering from one face to another.

Johns glared at the girl, his lips tightening with anger. "You gotta be kiddin' me..."

"I just thought it'd be better if people took me for a guy." Jack started rambling in a shaky voice, near tears. "I thought they might leave me alone..."

Fry exploded. "Jesus, Jack, why didn't you tell us?!"

Jack dropped to a crouch, wrapping her arms around her knees. "They're always messin' with me..." she mumbled, weeping now.

Fry and Shazza knelt on either side of her, setting down their flaming bottles, and wrapped comforting arms around her shoulders.

"It's allright, sweetie," Shazza whispered soothingly.

Fry pressed her cheek to Jack's close-shaved head. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry, sweetheart...are you really bleeding?"

Jack's face ran with tears now. "Coulda left me at the ship," she sniffled. "That's how come I didn't say somethin' sooner."

"They been nose-open for her ever since we left," Riddick said to Johns and Imam. "In case you haven't noticed, they go on blood."

Fry stood up and addressed the men. "Look, this is *not* gonna work. We're gonna have to go back."

"What'd you say?" Johns turned to her. He didn't quite believe what he was hearing. "You're the one who got us out here in the first place and turned us into sled dogs..."

"I was wrong, I admit it, okay?" Fry said quickly, cutting him off. "Can we just get back to the ship?"

Johns had just about had it. Women, he thought. Stupid, useless cunts, every goddamn one of 'em. 'Specially this one, dragging them all out here, and then expecting them to go back because of some dumb little bald bitch with the curse on her.

"I dunno, Carolyn," he said, his voice dangerous and edgy. "Nice breeze, wide open space - I'm startin' to enjoy my fuckin' self out here!"

"What, are you high again?" said Fry, stepping closer to him. "Just listen to yourself, Johns."

"Dammit, you're right, Carolyn - what's to be afraid of? My life's just a steaming pile of meaningless shit anyhow." He was yelling and waving his arms now. "So I say *mush on*. Canyon's only a coupla hundred meters and after that it's Skiff City." He thrust his finger into her face again. "So why don't you butch up, stuff a cork in this fuckin' kid and let's go!"

"She is the captain!" Imam said firmly. "We should listen to her!"

Time to deal those aces, thought Johns.

"Listen to this slut? Are you kidding me?" Johns wore a triumphant expression. He was about to become the hero here, and he knew it. Knock that bitch down a few pegs, right where she belongs. "Why don'tcha ask her what she was doin' when she was supposed to be gettin' our ride ready."

Fry's stomach lurched with panic. No, no, she thought. He wouldn't. She spoke, trying to keep her voice calm. "This does not help us..."

"She was in there spreadin' her legs for our buddy Riddick here." He waved an arm in Riddick's direction. "No wonder it took her so long, huh?" He looked over at Shazza. "Tell 'em, Shazza - you saw 'em goin' at it. Go on, tell 'em."

Shazza just glared at him and said nothing.

"Knock, it off, Johns..." Fry growled at him. She was momentarily glad for the darkness - she knew she was blushing.

Next card, thought Johns. "And during the crash she tried to blow the whole passenger cabin, tried to kill us in our sleep..."

Oh fuck, thought Fry. The knot of panic in her stomach turned to nausea.

"What's he talkin' about?" asked Jack in a quavering voice.

"Shut your mouth!" Fry screamed at him, but she knew the damage had already been done. So did he.

"We are fuckin' *disposable!*" Johns yelled, jabbing a finger in Fry's face. "We're just walkin' ghosts to you, aren't we?"

"Shut your *fuckin' *blowhole*!" Fry yelled back, lunging at him.

Johns brushed her aside easily, flinging her to the ground, where she remained on her hands and knees, defeated.

Imam ran forward and grabbed Johns by the arm, eager to end this conflict. "Fine, fine! You've made your point! We can *all* be so scared."

Johns looked down at the prostrate woman, a victorious smile on his face. Oh, this was sweet, sweeter than he thought possible, bringing her to her knees in front of everyone. Now they all knew who was *really* in control here. Too bad he couldn't fuck her while she was down there. Oh well - maybe later.

"Well, Carolyn," he said, his tone condescending, "How much do you weigh now?" He struck another flare, his eyes locked to Imam's, daring him to issue a challenge. "Verdict's in - the light moves forward." He started walking towards Riddick, the others slowly following at a distance, casting glances back at Fry, who was still crumpled dejectedly on the ground in the dark.

That was your last mistake, Johns, thought Riddick as he moved forward.

Go on, take me, here I am, Fry thought to the creatures she still heard around her. I'm worthless. I'm a piece of murdering shit, and they all know it now. I was never fit to lead these people. Come get me, I don't deserve to live.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the glow of a bottle lamp, then a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Get up, love," Shazza's soft voice said. "You can't stay down there."

Fry closed her eyes and felt a few tears slide out from under her lids. She didn't move.

"C'mon," said Shazza, more firmly this time, grabbing Fry's arm and pulling. "Up you go..."

Fry raised herself to stand weakly, watching the bobbing flames of the others' bottle lamps move farther away. Ahead of them she could still see the strap of lights on Riddick's back.

"Just leave me here," she whispered hoarsely. "You don't need someone like me."

Shazza started walking to catch up with the group, tugging Fry along with her. "Nonsense," she snorted. "I'll do no such thing."

"I almost killed you and Zeke," Fry whispered as they walked faster. "How can you even stand to touch me?"

Shazza sighed. "Pilot's life ain't easy," she said matter-of-factly. "Bloody rough decisions to be made, and only a few seconds to do it. Can't say for sure I wouldn't have made the same choice as you." She moved her hand from Fry's arm to the back of her neck and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "Chin up, love. Don't let that bastard have the satisfaction. You hear me?" She shook Fry gently to emphasize her words. "He had no business treating you like that."

Fry looked over at her in the dim light from the bottle lamp. Shazza looked back, her eyes glistening with tears. To her surprise, Fry saw no hatred there, and managed a small grateful smile before her face twisted into relieved weeping. By the time they caught up with the others, both women were calm, and their faces were dry again.

Johns had gone ahead of the others to join Riddick. He had a final ace up his sleeve, and he needed the convict to help him play it. Should be a piece o' cake, he thought. Fucker still thinks he has a chance o' goin' free. He knew Riddick would do anything to keep that chance alive. In fact, he was counting on it.

He walked silently beside Riddick for a while before speaking. "Ain't all of us gonna make it."

"Just realized that?" Riddick answered.

"Seven of us left..." Johns said in a casual tone. Work him up to it, take it slow. "If we could make it through the canyon and lose just one that'd be quite a feat, huh?"

Riddick shook his head. "Not if I'm the one."

"Well," said Johns, "What if you're one of six?"

They stopped. One of the creatures had made a noise, and it sounded close - very close.

Riddick swept his eyes back and forth, scanning the darkness. "I'm listening."

The others were far enough behind so they were unable to hear what the men were saying. "What are they doin' up there?" Jack asked nervously.

"They're talking about the canyon, I suppose," said Imam. "How to get us through."

"Battlefield doctors decide who lives and dies, it's called triage," Johns continued. He thought he was doing pretty well so far, making a good case.

"Kept callin' it murder when I did it," said Riddick.

Johns shrugged. "Either way, I figger it's somethin' you can grab onto." Like the animal you are. He hesitated for a moment, and then plunged ahead with his plan. It was now or never. "Okay, here's what I have in mind. We hack up a body and trawl with it, like bait. We got extra cable on the sled. We drag the body forty, fifty feet behind us..."

Riddick nodded. "Nice embellishment."

"Well, I don't wanna feed 'em," said Johns. "I just wanna keep 'em off our scent."

Riddick stopped, turned and looked back at the others. "So which one caught your eye?"

"No, no, don't look," Johns hissed, keeping his eyes deliberately aimed ahead of him. "Christ, what the hell's wrong with you?"

Fry was getting nervous. Something just felt wrong, with those two up there alone, walking companionably side by side and conversing. She knew instinctively that Riddick wouldn't play along with that unless there was a very good reason. Something bad was about to happen.

Her gut feeling was confirmed when she saw Riddick stop, turn around and look right at her. Johns was on Riddick's right - Riddick had turned to the left so Johns couldn't see his left hand fluttering by his hip, gesturing to Fry that she should hold the others back. She heard Johns hissing at Riddick under his breath as he did this. No words were clear, but she was pretty sure he was telling him not to turn around.

"Imam, slow down," she said quietly, her eyes never leaving the two men ahead of them. "Just a little more space between us and them."

"Allright, enough o' this shit," said Johns with an air of finality. "You do the girl, and I'll keep the others off your back." Then they'll practically beg me to kill you - if they don't do it themselves - and I'll save the day *and* get the girl. Perfect.

Riddick stopped walking and didn't reply.

Johns stopped behind him. "It's not too big a job for ya, is it?" he said tauntingly.

Riddick turned to face Johns. "I'm just wonderin' if I don't need a bigger piece o' bait."

"Like who?"

The men locked eyes. It didn't take Johns long to read Riddick's intentions, but by the time he did, it was too late.

Riddick swung first, knocking the flare out of Johns' hand. It landed nearby, casting a dim green circle of light on the patch of ground where they stood. He grabbed Johns' gun, meaning to shoot him, but Johns blocked him and the shot went wild.

Run, Carolyn, Riddick thought. Run right now.

Fry heard the gun go off and halted the group. Oh, shit - here we go. "Leave the sled!" she yelled to the others. She started running back the way they'd come. "Let's move!" The group broke apart, then quickly gathered behind her, flames trailing in the breeze as they ran.

They heard several more shots and some grunting, then nothing. Please, Riddick, thought Fry as she ran, sweeping her bottle lamp back and forth before her. Please let that be *you* shooting.

"Let's go, let's go!" she called to the group, making them run faster to keep up with her. She didn't want any of them to be hit by a stray bullet. The alien noises were closer now, and much louder. They were excited by this noisy conflict. They knew there would be blood.

The gun lay where it had landed when Johns had finally knocked it out of Riddick's hand. The two men circled each other like wild animals, eyes locked, muscles tensed, nostrils flared. Riddick pulled off the strap of lights he'd been carrying and dropped it on the ground behind him.

They each drew their knives and kept circling, spiraling inexorably inward until they were almost touching. Then Riddick struck like lightning, and Johns' knife flew from his hand. Riddick punched him, knocking him off balance.

Johns twisted as he fell backwards so that he landed on his hands and knees. A sly grin spread over his face as he grasped a large, clublike bone fragment he found under his hand. He knew Riddick couldn't see this - he closed his hand tightly around it, preparing to whip it around and knock Riddick off his feet.

In those few seconds, Riddick moved up behind him and cracked the butt of his knife handle against the base of Johns' skull, stunning him. Johns fell forward, landing on his face in the dirt. Gotta get up or I'm dead, he thought groggily, but he couldn't make his body move fast enough.

Riddick advanced until he straddled Johns' body and pulled him up hard by the hair, bending his head back at a painful angle and slapping his shiv on the man's throat. He lowered himself to one knee behind him so he could speak directly into his ear. Johns felt Riddick's hot breath panting against his face and had a fleeting image of a lion getting ready to rip his throat out.

"Can I tell ya a lil secret, Johns?" Riddick whispered. "You were dead the second you put your hands on her - you just didn't know it yet."

He jerked Johns' head back even further, making him cry out weakly and claw the air, then removed the shiv from his throat, moving it behind Johns and bringing it up between his legs. Johns felt it and started whimpering wordlessly.

Just before Riddick cut, he remembered that this was the same knife Carolyn had licked when they were alone together in the skiff. Traces of her saliva were probably still on it. Perfect, he thought. Poetic justice - the closest your dick'll ever get to her mouth.

He brought the knife back hard, slashing through Johns' genitals. He felt the tough cloth of the pants ripping, the satisfying give of soft flesh parting under the blade, then the gratifying crunch of tendons being sliced.

"That's for Carolyn," he hissed hotly into Johns' ear before he shoved him violently away and let him fall forward as the green flare finally burned out, leaving them in almost total darkness.

Johns lay twitching spasmodically in a fetal position on the dirt, paralyzed by a blinding, white-hot pain unlike anything he'd felt in his life. His eyes overflowed with tears, and he couldn't even produce any sounds, just raspy, hitching breaths. He clamped his hands protectively between his legs - not that there was much left to protect anymore - as blood soaked his pants and spilled out onto the dirt.

Riddick scanned the air above them, stood up and started backing quickly away into the dark. "Gotta run - looks like your dinner date's here." And he was gone. He grabbed his lights on the way, holding them behind him as he continued walking backwards until he was concealed by a large stand of bones a few yards away. He watched as the thing he'd seen flying overhead landed next to Johns and, without further ado, bit off his head.

Don't bother lookin' for the heart, he told the thing silently. There ain't one.

Show Me Your Eyes (Part 7)

Fry kept running, leading the others into the dark. She had no idea where they were going - she just knew it was away from the gunfire. She thought she'd caught a glimpse of Riddick with Johns' gun, but couldn't be sure. Several shots had been fired, and she hoped at least one of them had hit Johns.

She wanted Johns dead - that, at least, she could admit to herself without any guilt. That, and that she wanted Riddick to reappear, alone and unharmed. Please be okay, she thought desperately as she ran.

When the shots stopped, she brought the group to a halt. They drew together, breathing hard, facing out into the dark and sweeping their lamps around to see where they were. The eerie noises of the creatures still surrounded them, moving in and fading away over and over. It was impossible to tell how close they really were.

Fry startled the others with a sudden scream as she turned around and almost ran into Riddick, who appeared soundlessly out of nowhere - alone. Their eyes met and held for a long moment, and she knew without asking that Johns wasn't coming back.

"Where's Johns?" asked Imam.

Riddick turned to look at him. "Which half?"

Imam sighed and closed his eyes.

"We're gonna lose everybody out here," Jack said in a trembling voice. "We shoulda stayed at the ship."

"He died fast," Riddick replied, moving to the head of the group. "And if we have any choice about it, that's the way we should all go out." He stopped beside Jack, who was looking off into the distance, her face crumpled and wet with tears. "Don't you cry for Johns," he said to her quietly. "Don't you dare."

When everyone was lined up and ready to go, he started running, quickly leading them back towards the head of the canyon.

They found the sled undisturbed. Riddick took out the power cells and moved them to a patch of ground away from the others. He wanted to be left alone as he strung the cells together with rope from the sled so they could be dragged more easily through the obstacle-filled canyon. He'd set up next to one of the large skeletons they'd found earlier, hanging his lights on a protruding bone. It looked almost like a cozy little campsite.

Camping in hell is more like it, he thought, looking around at the endless piles of dry bones.

One set of bones in particular caught his eye - it had belonged to one of the alien creatures they were now trying to avoid. He approached it from the front, noticing that one of the sensory horns that made up its hammer-shaped head was broken off. He found it on the ground and held it up to the skull, restoring its shape.

Hmm...now this was interesting...

He moved his head forward until it was almost touching the protruding center of the alien skull, looking from side to side and measuring the distance between the ends of the horns with his outstretched arms. If this were a live alien, it would be unable to sense him with its sonar if he stood in front of it as he was doing now.

Aha - blind spot. Good to know.

He released the bone, letting it fall with a hollow clatter on top of the others, then stepped over and sat down on part of the larger skeleton as he busied himself tying the cells together.

He looked up when he heard bootsteps crunching in the dirt, moving towards him - it was Carolyn, bearing one of the bottle lamps. She took a seat beside him, setting her bottle on a nearby chunk of bone. Riddick continued his task in silence, secretly glad she was there. She said nothing, just watched him work until he finally spoke in a low voice.

"He wanted to hack up the girl for bait so we could get through the canyon."

She nodded. No big surprise there. "And you were supposed to do it for him."

Riddick pulled a piece of rope through the end of a power cell and made a knot in it. "That was the plan."

She nodded again, then fell quiet for a while before asking her next question.

"Did he really die fast?"

Riddick shrugged as he tied off the last knot and leaned back against the big skeleton, placing his hands on either side of him. "I think he woulda liked it faster."

Carolyn stared straight ahead of her into the darkness, her face hard with anger. "Good," she whispered fiercely.

He looked over at her, studying her expression in the dim light. "Gave him your regards," he said, a bit more quietly this time. "Figgered it was polite, since you couldn't be there."

She turned to face him, her hard mask softening suddenly. Without thinking, she reached down between them, curled her hand around Riddick's and squeezed. He squeezed back, still watching her face.

They didn't speak. They didn't have to. The gratitude in her eyes was clear, as was the vindication in his.

Riddick's gaze abruptly moved past her, and she turned to see that Imam was approaching. He stopped at a respectful distance, noting their clasped hands.

"The others are ready to go now," he said. "We should start soon."

"Okay," Fry nodded. "I'll be there in a sec."

Imam nodded back, then returned to the rest of the group to wait.

She looked at Riddick and squeezed his hand again. "Be careful out there," she whispered.

He saw fear in her eyes - fear for *him*. Now *that* was a first. "I'll try to stay in one piece." His expression didn't change, but he squeezed back again, this time much more firmly.

She swallowed hard, feeling the threat of tears. "You do that," she said, slipping her hand out of his as she stood, picked up her bottle lamp and headed back to the others.

He watched her go, giving himself a brief moment to savor her touch and the look of concern in her eyes. I'll be careful for both of us, he thought. Then he got up, gathered the ropes in his hands, and started dragging the power cells towards the canyon.

He left the cells at the opening and went a short distance in, ahead of the others, to scan for aliens and plan the fastest route through the jumbled debris of rocks and bones. In the distance, he could see the things perched here and there, fighting and tearing at each other, smacking their heads together in combat. The loud cracks of their colliding skulls echoed throughout the canyon, joining the loud whoops and clicks already sounding around them.

"Only see one way," he said, indicating with his hand a path straight through the middle of the canyon. "That way. It's the only way off this rock." The others exchanged fearful glances. "Just keep the girl between you," he added as he went back for the cells. He picked up the ropes attached to them and gripped them tightly behind him, giving them a tug to make sure the cells were all pointing the same way. The others stood grouped ahead of him, waiting for his signal.

"Move," he said.

They didn't. "Are you sure you can keep up - " Fry began.

"MOVE!!!" he bellowed, cutting her off. They jumped at the sound of his voice and took off as if touched by a live wire, jogging through the darkness, lamps raised high, eyes nervously scanning the darkness. Riddick followed as fast as he could, digging his boots into the dirt, muscles straining as he dragged the four heavy cells behind him.

About halfway through, a frighteningly familiar racket started somewhere up ahead of them, at the other end of the canyon. As it quickly grew closer and louder, they realized it was the same sound they'd heard when the low-flying cloud of aliens had buzzed them at the crash ship earlier. The canyon walls intensified the screeching and flapping, making it sound as though the things were already on top of them.

The wheeling flock of flying creatures moved as one, making a graceful loop in the air before descending on the canyon, whizzing through it like an armada of fighter ships, swinging low enough to surround and touch the small group of humans. They crouched as they ran, holding their flaming lamps above them to ward off attack. A few of the fast-moving aliens smacked into Riddick, knocking him off balance as he struggled to pull the cells.

Finally, the things arced back up into the sky above the canyon, and the group straightened up and continued running. Now they began to notice random spatters of a thick, bluish liquid falling on them and around them.

"Don't look up!" Riddick shouted.

Fry stopped running and did.

"Don't look up!" he repeated.

In the flame from her lamp, Fry could see the things not very far overhead, crashing together and ripping out chunks of each others' flesh.

"They're killing each other!" she shouted, just as a lifeless alien body came hurtling out of the sky, headed right for her.

Still dragging the cells, Riddick grabbed her and pulled her forward with him just as the thing was about to land on top of her. Alien body parts rained down around them with sickening, meaty thuds as they kept running, finally rounding a bend and stopping when they saw a huge skeleton blocking the way.

"Move! Keep moving! Keep moving!" Riddick yelled.

He pushed past the others and swiftly began lifting and tossing aside bones to clear a path for the power cells. As they passed through that skeleton and entered a second, something grabbed Suleiman's leg and started pulling him away from the group. His bottle lamp flew out of his hand and smashed on the ground as he struggled and screamed desperately for his father in Arabic.

Imam and Shazza grabbed the boy and held on, trying to pull him away from the alien. The pool of alcohol from Suleiman's dropped lamp suddenly burst into flame, forcing the thing to release him and flee into the darkness. The boy's leg had been injured, so Imam made a quick bandage from his turban and wrapped it around the wound as Fry held up two bottle lamps so he could see.

Riddick didn't stop - he kept dragging the cells as the others tended Suleiman's wound. A worried Jack went ahead, her handlight trained on his back.

"Riddick?" she called, casting nervous glances behind her. "Riddick, wait!"

Blood. The alien smelled it. It was fresh, and coming from the small, soft creature standing alone in the canyon, separated from its group. It seized its opportunity and swooped in for the kill.

Jack looked up when she heard wings flapping and saw the thing coming at her. She dashed for cover under a nearby skeleton, falling and skidding underneath a large, curved plate of bone just as the alien landed on it. The bone gave under the thing's weight and crashed down on top of Jack, pinning her to the ground. The creature bashed its hard head against the bone repeatedly, trying to beat a hole through it and get to Jack.

Riddick stopped and stood still, listening to Jack's terrified cries. Too bad, kid, he thought. Law of the jungle. Survival of the fittest. But he knew what would happen if he let the girl die - the others would come after him, even Carolyn, and he'd never get off this rock alive.

As he thought this over, Fry advanced on the alien, holding a bottle lamp and Jack's dropped handlight. She swept the handlight's beam over the thing's sensitive skin, hearing the hiss as it started to burn.

"Get offa her!" Fry yelled, coming in even closer. She was almost face to face with the creature as she shone the handlight on it and repeatedly thrust the flaming bottle lamp in its face. It whipped its tail at her again and again, finally knocking the handlight out of her grasp and sending it flying towards the canyon wall, where it smashed and went out.

Finally, Riddick dropped his ropes, pulled off his goggles and turned back. He ran at the thing with an animal cry as it jumped off Jack and headed for him. He spread his arms and locked his hands around its wrists just as it went for him. Its snapping head thrust forward, unable to reach him. Its huge claws opened and closed above Riddick's hands. He knew he couldn't hold this thing off forever - he grappled both its wrists into one of his powerful hands and held them up and away from him as he swiftly drew his knife and plunged it repeatedly into the alien's soft underside.

Stunned and confused, the thing backed away from him - none of the other soft creatures it remembered had ever delivered a sting like this. Riddick whirled again and again, each pass of his knife opening another huge gash in the thing's belly, spilling its steaming guts into a pile at Riddick's feet. Its body emptied of everything, it finally went limp and crashed to the ground. Riddick straddled the alien corpse, grabbed its head by the horns and twisted hard, breaking its neck with a loud crunch.

He stood over the body, a look of satisfaction on his face. "Did *not* know who it was fuckin' with."

Suddenly aware of his surroundings again, he looked up to see the others gaping at him in amazement. Sheathing his knife, he went back to the power cells, picked up his ropes, and started pulling again. "Let's go," he called back to the awestruck group.

They followed as quickly as they could with Suleiman limping from his leg injury. They'd only gone a few yards when the boy fell, unable to walk any further. Imam hoisted him into his arms and started walking again, only to stop immediately when he realized with a shock that it had begun to rain.

Everyone looked up to make sure it wasn't just more alien blood. It wasn't.

"Oh, no..." said Fry, glancing desperately at the guttering flame of her bottle lamp.

"Jesus bloody Christ..." said Shazza, trying to shield her flame from the rain with her hand.

Riddick's harsh laughter rang through the canyon as he stopped and turned to look at Imam. "So where the hell's your god now?" he said, grinning ironically.

The group moved to the canyon wall, Shazza and Fry trying to keep their lamps lit. Imam settled his injured son with his back against the stone and tightened his makeshift bandage. The rain was coming down hard now, hissing as it struck the tops of the lamps. Riddick stepped up onto a jutting piece of rock to see how far they had to go.

"Riddick!" Fry called from her spot beside Shazza. "Are we close?"

He said nothing, only gazed off into the distance.

"Just tell me that the settlement is right there!" she shouted, her voice tearful and exhausted.

Imam turned to look at Riddick, waiting for his answer, and felt the end of Suleiman's bandage start slipping through his hand. He whipped back around, and his son was gone, shooting upwards as a prehensile alien tail hauled him by his neck up the wall to his death. Imam fell to the ground, weeping and crying out in Arabic to his lost son. Jack, Fry and Shazza could only look on in horror.

Another one bites the dust, thought Riddick. This shit's gettin' old. From where he stood, he could see the settlement just over a ridge. These others had slowed him down enough already - it was time for a decision.

"We can't make it," he said, his eyes still on the group of buildings ahead in the dark. He leaped down from his perch and scanned the opposite wall, quickly finding what he was looking for.

"Hide here! Now!" he shouted to the others. They rushed to the small cave he indicated and hurried inside. He stopped Fry when she tried to go in. "You're comin' with me," he said, pulling her back by her arm.

Fry leaned into the cave and handed Imam her lamp before Riddick covered the opening with a huge chunk of bone. "We'll be back soon," she said. "Just stay in the back of the cave, okay?"

Shazza nodded. "Be careful!" she said, and then the cave was closed, leaving the three of them in darkness broken only by the wavering flames of the two lamps.

Still holding Fry's arm, Riddick rushed her over to the power cells, which he'd left just below the ridge. "Grab on," he said. "Help me with these things." She lined up beside him, and they pulled together like a horse team, slipping and sliding as their boots dug into the mud, fighting their way to the top of the ridge, panting furiously in the rain.

The lamp Fry had left in the cave had gone out. Shazza took the top off her still-burning bottle and waited as Jack removed the rope wick from Fry's and squeezed the last bits of alcohol from it into Shazza's. Imam stayed by the cave's opening, peering out into the darkness through a sliver of space between the bone and the rock.

Until then, the creatures had been pretty quiet, but now they seemed to be gathering near the cave, homing in on Jack's blood scent. The eerie noises grew closer and more numerous as Jack and Shazza watched the flame of their last lamp grow smaller and smaller, and finally wink out, leaving them in total blackness. Imam backed away from the opening to huddle at the rear of the cave with the others. It sounded as though several of the things were sitting right outside, waiting for them to come out.

Or worse, trying to find a way in.

Fry and Riddick went on doggedly, splashing through puddles and slipping in mud until they reached the skiff.

Fry was a bit confused. It hadn't really been that far - why had he made the others wait in the cave?

"I thought it would be farther," she said to him. "We could've made it."

Riddick didn't answer.

"Why did we leave them in the cave?" she prodded.

"Safer that way," he grunted, not looking at her, as they yanked the heavy power cells up onto the gangway and into the skiff. "We can set down in the canyon and pick' em up. That way they don't have to stay out in the open very long."

"Oh..." Fry frowned. Well, that *kinda* made sense. But they could all be here right now. Something didn't feel right.

Riddick powered up the skiff while Fry untied the ropes from the power cells. She looked around the interior as she worked, noting with satisfaction that everything was in order. She'd made sure they had a basic, if small, med kit, water from the settlement's pump, and a few sealed food packets they'd managed to scrounge out of the crash ship. Not exactly gourmet fare, but it would at least give them something to put in their stomachs. They had no idea how long they'd be closed up in this thing.

While Fry had been running the systems check earlier that day, Shazza had sent the children on an errand to find every sleeping bag, pillow and blanket in the settlement and bring them to the skiff. There was more than enough bedding for everyone, and it had all been shaken out, bundled and strapped securely into several of the seats on the flight benches lining the sides of the skiff. Count on her to think of something like that, thought Fry. Johns sure as hell wouldn't have. She felt a little leap of joy when she remembered that he was dead, followed by a sharp pang of sadness when she remembered that all but one of the children who'd put those things here was also dead.

She snapped back to attention when she heard the metallic clang of a power cell being slammed into its bay, and moved out of the way as Riddick grabbed one after the other off the floor and repeated the process. When they were all locked in, he stepped past her to the rear of the skiff and turned the switch to raise the gangway. As it lifted off the ground, Riddick went up front, unslung the lights he'd been carrying and hung them up before settling himself into the captain's chair.

Fry stayed where she was, watching the gangway come up. Something was very wrong here, she could feel it. She reached out and turned the switch again, making the gangway go back down.

Riddick turned to look at her. "Carolyn, what the fuck are you doing? Close that thing and let's go."

She walked to the front and stood over Riddick's chair. "Look at me, Riddick. Look me in the eye."

He did.

She searched his face for a moment before she spoke. "You're not going back for them, are you?"

An eternity seemed to pass as their eyes locked and held. For most of his life, Riddick had trained himself to reveal nothing of what went on inside him. He was damn good at it, too - but now, for the first time in years, he felt someone's eyes go through him, seeing everything he didn't want to be seen.

Fry's face tightened. "Bastard!" she spat at him. She grabbed the lights he'd hung up and stomped back towards the gangway. "You stay here," she yelled over her shoulder. "I'll go get the others." She stopped at the hatchway and turned back to look at him. "You better be here when we get back."

"Carolyn!" Riddick shot up out of his chair and walked quickly over to stand beside her. She regarded him with unflinching fury. "Carolyn, listen to me. They'd be dead by the time we got there. They're prob'ly dead already."

Fry shook her head and continued down the gangway. Riddick grabbed at her arm, but she shrugged him off and kept walking. "Hey!" he yelled at her. "You really gonna run off into the dark by yourself? You sure you wanna do that?"

She stopped in the rain at the bottom of the gangway and turned back to him. "No, I don't!" she yelled back. "I want to fly this goddamn skiff over there and *get* them!"

Riddick strode down the gangway to stand right in front of her, reaching up to cup her face in his hands. "Carolyn," he whispered. "Listen...they're as good as dead. No one's gonna blame you for saving yourself. If I'd left you there, you'd be dead too."

She seemed to be softening a bit. Good, that helped. He moved closer, bending down so their foreheads touched. "It's just us now - you and me. Is that so bad?"

Fry looked up into his eyes, tears forming in her own. She wanted to do what he said, he could tell. If he could just get her back into the skiff...

She let the lights she was carrying drop onto the gangway and slid her hands up onto his chest.

Good, good, he thought. She's comin' around...now if we can just get the fuck outta here...

The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back in the mud and rain at the bottom of the gangway, with Fry straddling his ribs. She bent down, bringing herself nose to nose with him. "Now you listen to me!!!" she screamed into his face. " I am *not* leaving *anyone* on this rock with those fucking things!!!" Her fists pounded his chest as she spoke, emphasizing her words. "You hear me, Riddick?!?"

He grabbed her and flipped her off him. She landed on her back with a grunt, and he was on her before she could move, straddling her body as she had his. He whipped out his knife and held it to her throat.

"Get that fucking thing off me!" she yelled, pushing at his knife hand. "Get it off me!"

"SHUT UP!!!" he shouted into her face.

She stopped struggling and lay still under him, breathing hard. "I'm telling you right now, Riddick - the only way you're leaving without them is if you kill me first."

He leaned down, getting right in her face. "You think I won't?" he said, putting more pressure on the knife.

"I *know* you won't," she answered, her eyes meeting his fearlessly.

Riddick slammed a fist into the mud right beside her head. "Then you don't know me very fuckin' well, do ya?" he growled at her.

She regarded him for a moment before she answered. "Okay, then," she finally said. "Do it." She grabbed his knife hand and pushed the edge of the blade into the underside of her jawbone, nicking herself. "Here, I'll help you."

Riddick watched the blood trickle from the tiny cut and wash away in the rain. His sharp senses told him that there was no fear in her - not even a little. She wasn't begging for her life. She'd even made the first cut for him. Well, fine, he thought. If that's how you fuckin' want it...

No one, not even Carolyn, was keeping him here for one more minute. He was getting off this rock and going free, no matter what.

He positioned the knife for his favorite throat cut. The ol' ear-to-ear grin, he liked to call it - start just below the right ear and slice straight on through to the left, leaving a big red smiling gash. The tip of the knife was in place. He started to apply the necessary pressure - proper pressure was important here - and was stopped by her eyes.

What he saw there defied description. He saw no fear, no hatred, no anger, not even resignation. In fact, what he saw was the last thing he expected to see - the same look she'd had when they were alone together in this very skiff earlier today, right after he'd made her come for the first time. The look that had made him think of angels' eyes.

It's a trick, his killer instinct said. Ignore it. Do what you gotta do.

He gripped the knife handle tighter and tried to press down, really tried - but he couldn't. He closed his eyes, thinking that would help, but he still saw her face, and that look. He opened them again, determined to face her down.

Go on, just do it, he told himself. It ain't like you've never killed before.

He was red-faced and shaking now, his jaw clenched, the veins popping out on his forehead. What the fuck's *wrong* with me? The knife blade was in place, ready to cut, but no matter what he did, he couldn't make himself start.

"Riddick." Carolyn's calm voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "What are you waiting for? Go on, finish it. I'm ready."

He leaned down to growl at her through clenched teeth. "What the *fuck* do you think you're doin'?" He shook her hard. "Are you outta your fuckin' mind?"

She reached up to touch his face. "If someone's gotta take me out," she whispered, "I want it to be you."

He froze, his knife still poised to cut. *Now* what??? his stunned brain asked.

Somewhere deep inside him, a fragile vessel quietly shattered, its contents spilling, flowing like warm syrup, enfolding and penetrating that hidden, disused thing he had once called his heart. His expression now was one of utter confusion. His knife hand was shaking badly, and he slowly withdrew it, careful not to nick her again, and held it just a few inches above her throat. His face was almost touching hers.

Do it, ya pussy! his killer instinct said.

I can't. I can't.

Sure ya can, it purred soothingly.

He turned the knife in his hand so it pointed downward and moved it to her chest, positioning the tip right over her heart.

One shot, straight through, nice and clean, and you're off this rock. You're free, no baggage.

His knuckles whitened with the force of his grip on the knife handle. He gritted his teeth and told his hand to push the damn blade in, just push it.

He couldn't.

Carolyn lay still under him, looking up at him with those eyes, those eyes full of light and - something else...

Riddick sat up on his knees and uttered a harsh cry, gathering his primal force as he raised his knife for the kill - and brought down the blade with all his might.

Show Me Your Eyes (Part 8)

The sounds were painfully close now. The huge chunk of bone covering the cave's opening rocked a bit now and then when one of the creatures tapped on it. Jack, Shazza and Imam sat huddled together in the dark at the rear of the small cleft, clasping hands and staring fearfully towards the front.

"How long have they been gone?" Jack asked, her voice trembling.

"Too bloody long, if you ask me," Shazza replied.

Imam placed a comforting hand on Jack's shoulder. "Stay calm, child. They'll be back soon."

Another blow on the bone door made them jump and huddle closer together. Shazza looked down at their hands, and closed hers more tightly around Jack's, thinking how odd their skin looked in the ghostly blue glow.

Hang on a minute, she thought. Blue light? Where the bloody hell did *that* come from?

She looked up at the ceiling of the cave to find that it was covered with fat blue glowworms. Jack and Imam followed her gaze.

"Crikey..." she whispered, running her amazed eyes over the ceiling.

Imam stood and gently teased a couple of the worms down into his palm, where they lay wriggling and glowing like tiny blue lamps. He looked at Shazza, then at the empty bottles. Wasting no time, she grabbed one, stood up and started plucking worms from overhead and stuffing them into it. Jack took the other and did the same. When they were finished, they'd filled up all of Shazza's bottle and half of Jack's. Using her pocketknife, Shazza noisily scraped off the wet labels to let more light come through.

They set the two bottles side by side on the rock in front of them. The glow was much more intense now, almost as bright as the light tubing they'd gotten from the crash ship. To their great relief, the tapping outside started gradually tapering off as the light seeped out through the small spaces around the bone.

"I hope they come back before the worms die," Jack whispered.

Riddick sat motionless on his knees in the rain, straddling Carolyn's body at the bottom of the skiff's gangway. He didn't look down at her - his eyes were fixed blindly on some distant imaginary horizon, his hands resting limply on his thighs as his face tried without much success to decide what expression it should be wearing. His lips moved slightly, as if he were trying to say something, but nothing came out.

After what seemed like hours - or days or years, for all he could tell right now - he lowered his eyes, fixing his gaze on the handle of his knife, still standing upright where he'd plunged it only seconds ago. A frown of confusion knitted his brow as his stunned brain did its best to process what had just happened.

Why? Why? repeated endlessly in his head. Why'd I do that? What's happening to me? Am I crazy?

He found himself staring stupidly at it, entranced by the raindrops that struck it and rolled down its length like liquid diamonds, catching the light from the open skiff hatch, making tiny winking rainbows as they spilled over onto the silvery blade, pooling around it where it met the muddy ground.

Carolyn slowly raised herself onto her elbows and slid out from under him, bringing herself up to rest on her knees before him. She moved forward until their bodies touched and lifted her hands to hold his face as he'd held hers only moments ago.

"Riddick," she whispered, touching her forehead to his.

He tore his eyes away from the knife and looked at her. She should be dead right now. That knife should be buried in her heart instead of the ground, and he should be lifting off from this rock and heading for freedom.

But now, gazing into those eyes, imagining them empty and lifeless, staring up sightlessly into the dark, rainy sky as he flew away - he just couldn't do it. His arms came up unbidden and locked around her, pulling her tightly against him. He was grateful for the storm, the way its droplets collected and ran down his face, making everything look like rain.

Riddick's mind whirled with questions - how, why, what do I do now - and for some crazy reason, felt that Carolyn had all the answers. But how was that possible? They'd met what - less than a day ago? She didn't even know him.

You really sure 'bout that? his mind interjected.

"Riddick," she said again. "We have to go. They're waiting."

With great effort, he dragged his mind back to the situation at hand. Yeah, waiting. Waiting in that cave where I left them to die.

Very gently, Fry unwound herself from his arms, stood and bent down to unsheath his knife from the ground, wiping it clean on her pants and extending it to him handle-first. After a moment of hesitation, he took it and held it in front of him, looking down at it, remembering what he'd just tried to do with it - and here she was, handing it back to him as if nothing had happened.

"Let's go," she said, holding out her hand. Still in a daze, he grasped it and lifted himself to a standing position. His legs shook so badly he would have fallen if she hadn't caught him. They stood there in the rain holding each other for a minute as he tried to calm himself enough to walk without help. He felt her hands gently prodding him to turn with her and go back up the gangway into the skiff. She picked up the dropped lights as they walked and hit the switch to close the hatch behind them.

He tucked the knife into his pants before taking his seat in the copilot's chair and strapping in. Fry hung up the lights, then busied herself with buttons and switches as she talked rapidly, her eyes flicking back and forth, scanning indicators as she pushed her dripping hair back from her eyes.

"Okay, here's the deal ," she said. "We set down in the canyon, close as we can get to the cave, and get them out, then we go back to the crash ship and get the rest of the power cells. We'll strap 'em into the empty seats on the flight benches. No telling how long we'll be this thing, so it won't hurt to have extra fuel."

He nodded wordlessly. Her brisk efficiency put Riddick back in gear, gave him something to focus on besides whatever was going on inside him. The last thing he needed right now was to sit still and dwell on it. There would be time for that later.

The sounds outside the cave were almost gone now, but they could still hear distant whooping and clicking as the creatures watched from wherever they were now, waiting for the light to go out, and the ever-present layer of fighting, screeching things somewhere above them, still sending down random pieces of each other to splatter on the canyon floor.

A few of the worms were already dead, and their glow was starting to fade. It was only a matter of time before the rest of them followed suit. Jack tapped the bottles, trying to make the worms move a little and maybe not die so quickly.

"C'mon...c'mon..." she pleaded with them as she tapped. "Stay alive, please..."

Suddenly, the thunderous noise of the skiff engines filled the canyon as the little craft swung into position and lowered itself to the ground outside the cave, sending rays of light shooting in through the gaps in the bone door. They leaped to their feet and scrambled to the opening to see the gangway lowering, then Riddick moving down it and towards the cave. They stood back as he approached and rolled aside the huge chunk of bone.

"C'mon, let's move!" he yelled.

Shazza and Jack ran ahead to the skiff's bright, open hatchway, quickly finding seats and securing themselves with their flight harnesses. Imam walked with Riddick, clapping a hand on his shoulder as they moved up the gangway.

"You asked me before where my God was, Mr. Riddick," he said. "And now you have your answer."

Riddick glanced over at him briefly before closing the hatch. "We'll see about that, father," he answered, moving past Imam to the front of the skiff. "We still gotta get the rest o' the power cells."

Imam locked his flight harness into place and waited as Fry sealed the hatch and revved up the engines. "Here we go!" she yelled towards the back. And they were off the ground, zooming along just below the layer of battling aliens over the canyon. Some of them smacked into the skiff as it moved, but not hard enough to throw it off course or knock it down.

Riddick leaned forward and scanned the ground as they flew, searching for the section of the ship that contained the power cells. The skiff's headlamps swept the sands, showing briefly in their glare the huge bones of the long-dead creatures they'd found as well as fresh alien bodies lying where they'd fallen, some being eaten by their fellows, who screeched and flew away as soon as the light touched them.

Like roaches in the kitchen, he thought.

"There." He pointed, indicating a towering hunk of torn metal with the useless sandcat parked nearby. Fry nodded and slowed the skiff, turning it so the the hatchway would face the opening of the wreckage. As they landed, one of the alien things came flapping out of the twisted metal, frightened by the flames of the engines. Riddick started unstrapping as soon as they were on the ground.

"How many?" he asked Fry as he got out of his chair and grabbed the lightstrap.

"All of 'em," she answered. "Should be seven left. You'll need help."

Imam heard this and undid his harness, standing to join Riddick at the opening hatchway.

"Stay right behind me," Riddick said as he slowly advanced down the gangway, holding the lights behind him, scanning for the presence of any more creatures. Imam did as he was told, walking with one hand on Riddick's back and nervously casting his eyes about.

"Looks okay - let's make it snappy." Riddick slung the lights over his shoulder and headed for the cell bays. It took several trips to get all the remaining cells - Riddick took two at a time, but Imam could only carry one. Fry helped Jack and Shazza strap the cells securely into the empty seats, shoving some of them in tightly next to bundles of bedding.

"You sure these straps'll hold all this weight?" Shazza asked Fry as they worked. "These cells are pretty heavy."

"They should, yeah," Fry replied, pulling a harness taut across a pair of cells. "They were made to hold adults, and two of these things weigh about as much as an adult, so they should be okay."

"Allright," said Shazza. "I just don't want any nasty surprises when one o' these bloody things comes loose and flies at me."

When all the cells and people were secured, Fry turned off all the skiff's exterior lights and sat quietly, doing nothing. The passengers in the back looked questioningly at each other and shrugged.

Riddick frowned at her. "What are you doing?'

"We can't leave yet," she answered firmly, staring straight ahead. The creatures had smelled Jack, and were back on her trail again, landing and gathering outside the skiff, making their eerie noises and butting their heads against the hull.

Jack grabbed Shazza's hand and gripped it tightly. "Why aren't we going anywhere?" she whispered. Shazza shook her head and shrugged, her eyes big with fright.

"What are you talkin' about?" Riddick asked Fry, looking outside and noting the growing flock of aliens.

"I don't wanna be rude," she said quietly, narrowing her eyes. "We can't just leave without saying goodbye." She listened as the things moved closer to the skiff, the tapping and screeching getting louder. Riddick watched her face grow hard and her lips tighten.

What the hell is she up to?

Then, without warning, she shoved the ignition handle forward. The aliens' predatory screeches turned to screams of agony as dozens of them were caught in the explosive bursts of flame from the engines.

"Sweet dreams, you little motherfuckers," she growled as the skiff shot up into the air. Alien bodies bounced off the hull as she pushed the craft upward through the darkness, her face smoldering with angry satisfaction.

As they cleared the planet's atmosphere, Riddick sat back in his chair and stared at her, filled with an unexpected sense of pride.

You tell 'em, baby, he thought. *That's* my girl...

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