Chapter 43; Checkmate
The air in the corridor chilled as Riddick and Darrin circled one another, jabbing punches that each blocked with ease, testing. Garritt’s body was humming with excitement. He was finally going to fight Riddick. He grinned. "I’m gonna take her from you, Riddick. I'm gonna take her and use her. I‘m gonna drink her blood."
He could hardly keep from turning his gaze to the girl. She was so close. If he could beat Riddick, then she was his. He could almost taste the power inside her; could feel it tugging at him. His mind went over the ritual he needed to perform once he had her. It was a quick one, requiring him to taste her blood. He could almost taste the metallic tang on his tongue, hot and sweet.
*What will it feel like to have all that power? What will it feel like to have a whole race of people at my feet?*
Riddick's fist lashed out, catching him in the cheek, but Garritt kept grinning, spitting blood and saliva onto the floor. The tattoo mark on his arm was itching again, always itching it seemed. He fought the urge to stop and dig his fingers into the flesh, to rip out what felt like bugs crawling under his skin. It was enough to drive a sane person mad.
Garritt swung at Riddick, as Riddick hit him in the belly. Any pain he felt was negligible; it didn’t matter, as long as the outcome was Riddick dying. Garritt channeled that pain, lowering his head and butting it into Riddick, using his body to ram the other man against the wall. Riddick grunted. Satisfaction surged through Garritt at the sound and he laughed, driving his head upward. There was a thud as Riddick’s head hit the wall. Garritt brought his fist around, aiming for Riddick’s nose, imagining the girl lying with her wrist cut, her power flowing into him..
The blow never connected. That one, brief second, cost Garritt everything.
Riddick exploded with energy, beating Garritt back with first one punch, then another. The air began to ring around him. His mind couldn’t seem to work about this nick in his plan. How could Riddick be beating him? How was it possible for a full human to beat him? Him? He was part Ancient! It wasn’t possible!
*No, no, no, can’t be....*
From somewhere, Riddick pulled a knife; where, Garritt didn’t know. Wasn’t that a signature thing with Riddick though? Garritt had a partial breaths time to see it flashing towards him. There was a sting at his neck, red wetness splashing Riddick. Garritt sagged back, his hand going to his throat. Everything was growing disjointed, hazy. He opened his mouth. It couldn’t end like this. It couldn’t end with him the dead one, not after all his planning. It couldn’t.
"Jack is mine." Riddick’s voice was rough, his arm drawing back again, the knife flashing downward.
~~~~~~~~~~
Jack flinched as Riddick’s second, brutal slice nearly cleaved the man’s head from his body. She couldn’t figure out how she was going to tell Alexa. *How? How do I tell my best friend that I killed her brother? It wasn’t him though, not really. It wasn’t Marc. Marc was gone, long gone...No, he wasn’t. He was still in there. How...?* In a fog, Jack saw Riddick come to her and crouch down. His shirt was saturated with blood.
*No time, Jack! We’ll figure out what to tell Alexa later!*
Her eyes rose to his. His hands were warm on her arms, his grip firm. There was urgency in his gaze. It occurred to her that time was precious, and they had very little of it left if they hoped to escape this ship. With an indrawn breath, she let him raise her to her feet.
There was no time to search for her clothes. Riddick’s hands slid down her bare arms, one releasing her, the other grasping her hand in a firm grip, pulling her with him down the corridor. Jack managed a last glance at Marc’s body crumpled against the wall before they went around the bend in the hall. The lights dimmed, and in places went out completely.
At first, adrenaline pumped through Jack in a second, heady rush of urgency, but it waned quickly, leaving her winded. Her legs burned, her lungs ached, breaths wheezing from her in harsh puffs. Riddick wasn’t even breathing heavily as he tugged her with him at a fast pace. Their feet pounded on the floor, Riddick’s boots slapping. She could hear her feet making softer slapping sounds beneath the rapid staccato of his footfalls. The pace he set was far faster than she could have run without him urging her.
"Come on, Jack!" His voice was guttural and thick to her ears.
They reached a docking bay. The door slid open and jack cried out, yanking her hand free from Riddick’s, the jerking movement making her lose her balance and fall to the floor. *Oh God, the smell!* Her eyes lit upon the blood coated floor. Her feet would have to touch the gore splattered panels. "No...." It came out a low moan.
Riddick turned and reached for her in one smooth movement, even as her rear hit the floor with bruising force. His hands once more grasped at hers, and he hauled her to her feet and across the floor before she could protest. Jack cringed with each step.
*You’ll wash, Jack. Calm.*
They were almost to the ship when the ramp rose. They skidded to a halt.
"What the fuck!" Riddick growled out.
The ramp lowered, yet neither of them moved towards it.
Carolyn Fry came partway down the ramp. Her skin was a mass of silver markings that seemed to writhe and glow. Her sneer exposed white teeth. She placed her hands on the ship on both sides of the ramp, striking a pose. "Strong survival instinct. I admire that in a man."
Riddick’s mind closed off from hers, and Jack leveled a sharp glance at him. His fingers closed tighter on hers.
"Step inside." Carolyn laughed.
"Fuck you!"
Jack found herself closer to Riddick, his grip on her hand almost hurting. Riddick’s answer seemed to amuse the creature that had been Fry, her tinkling laugh a grating irritant on Jack’s nerves.
"I’ll make it easy on you." She held out her hand, voice becoming deeper, a parody of Riddick’s throaty purr. "Come on. Come on." Fry shook her head. You don’t know anything about me. I will leave you here." Coming a few more steps down the ramp, she sighed as though with a fond memory. "Do you remember those words Riddick? I do. Did you ever... share that bit with her?" Her gaze moved to Jack and Jack shivered. "He ever tell you he was planning on leaving you? On leaving us? I got to the skiff just in time Jack. Riddick was strapped in and ready for take off. He was gonna leave us, leave you..."
"Shut up!" Riddick shouted, but Fry went on.
"...to be meat for those beasts." She licked her lips, tongue darting out in a gesture that seemed eager. "He was gonna leave Jack."
Riddick’s hand was a crushing vise about hers. Fry wasn’t saying anything Jack didn’t already know, but to hear it out loud....When Fry and Riddick had come to the cave, she’d told him that she’d ‘never had a doubt.’ That was a lie. She’d had doubts, a great many of them. She’d known Riddick most likely wouldn’t return, but she’d hoped and prayed.
He’d come back. Not just then either. He’d come back after five years, like he’d promised. He’d said, ‘I promise I’ll be back,’ and he’d meant the words. He’d kept his promise and he was hers. "Fuck you, bitch."
The expression that crossed the creatures face was unique, somewhere between surprise and anger. "Such a mouth on you. Does she use it well Riddick?"
A frost began to slick over the walls and floor. Jack shivered, goose bumps prickling her flesh under the touch of the frigid current. How were they going to get past Fry?
"My recommendation," Fry purred, making Jack wonder if the creature had heard her thoughts, "do me. Ghost me. More words of wisdom from the great Riddick."