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Versed	By : Chriscent Category: M through R > Pitch Black Views: 733 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Riddick or anything from Pitch Black. I don't make money one this.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter 1
- 2-Chapter 2
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When Jea turned back her knee brushed his side and one of his many wounds. He groaned and his eyes opened, just narrow slits that seemed to reflect the light like the cat’s had done. He shifted, acting as if he were trying to reach for something, but another groan and his eyes closed, his hand dropped last, as if reluctantly.

Jea felt for whatever he’d been reaching for. It was concealed neatly in the material of his pants. She pulled out the blade, obviously homemade. It was an impressive tool and she found herself smiling at it as she held it up to reflect the light.

She stood, with the blade still in her hand. Now what?

Again her common sense had some very reasonable suggestions. Go inside. Call the authorities. Oh, and keep the blade.

But they had already done this to him. He was as good as dead if she left him or called anyone. She doubted they would dispatch emergency medical personnel to care for the wounds they had inflicted. Not that there was much care that could be done. Keep him clean, keep the rest of him healthy, then it would be up to him to heal.

She found she was staring at the blade as she thought. It was a beautiful tool. Then she suddenly realized she was considering doing those things for him. She could move him, get him cleaned up. She could even treat his wounds and medicate him. It would be a simple matter, in theory.

The more complicated bits would come later. If he was tracked to this point she would be investigated. Government investigations weren’t impartial, nor did they normally end well for the one being investigated, no matter the outcome. And what about when he came around. He wasn’t a cat in the alley that would be gone with the morning light. He was big, much bigger than her, and he could be dangerous. Risking herself, treating him, didn’t ensure that he wouldn’t just rob and kill her when he was able.

She could restrain him. She could even lock him up. But just the idea sounded wrong to her. Tying him up while he was in this condition felt worse than what had already been done to him. And for what? What could he have done to warrant such treatment? Basically he’d been tortured, was still being tortured as the many burns continued to burn. And she wanted to bind him? Because she was worried about what an unconscious and helpless man would do?

Putting it that way made it sound ridiculous. And it also removed the last of her indecision.

Jea checked the alley again as she went to the back door and stepped inside. A set of controls in the wall made a grinding noise begin, one that echoed dreadfully loud in the narrow alley. But the mechanism was well maintained and quickly finished the loudest portion of her bidding.

Keeping animals in the building was a big job. She was one small-ish woman. To get the animals, and other stock, below the surface she had a lift that would take them down, one at a time. Then, once down, she would wash and disinfect the animal before leading it to the stalls she kept.

The lift rose with a motorized cart on it, one she used to move pallets when they were delivered. It was fitted with a sling to move more unwieldy loads. This load was going to require the sling.

The man woke once as she moved him onto the cart. His hand made it to the spot where the blade had been this time, but she still had the tool. She doubted he’d be able to do much with it even if she gave it back.

She rode the lift down with him and then ran up and locked up before returning to move the cart and him into the showers. It took some figuring. The cart wouldn’t stand a washing, but she couldn’t just put him on the floor, and he was in no condition to walk.

An office chair did the trick. She stripped him as she moved him, letting the sling hold him up so she could assess the damage. It was worse than she’d thought, and she felt both sorry and aggravated that she was taking such a risk and doing so much work for what would eventually be a corpse. He probably wouldn’t survive.

He’d been on his back in the alley, so she’d only seen the burns on his front, most of them to his chest, a couple on his arms. His back had maybe twice the number of burns as the front, and here there was no doubt they were overlapping, some appearing to completely double up.

It wasn’t like she could put him back in the alley.

She used cold water, hoping to stop any more after-burn and sooth him at the same time. He didn’t wake again, but he did seem to relax some. She couldn’t imagine the amount of pain he was in. Even unconscious he would have to be aware of the trauma.

She used a mild disinfectant, just to sanitize his wounds, and that only because by some miracle he wasn’t bleeding, anywhere.

Using the office chair, she wheeled him to her safe room, a well-kept secret. It was a small room situated behind the insulated walls of the butcher room. The door was accessible only by moving a shelf in a walk-in cooler.

She put a fresh sheet down on the bed, expecting that she’d have to change it regularly if his wounds started to seep. Then she managed to tip him out of the chair without dropping him on the floor.

There was little she could do for him. She didn’t have anything injectable, so she crushed some pain meds, a few vitamins and some antibiotics. Mixed into thinned pudding she managed to spoon feed the concoction to him. The strain that had returned to his face eased after a few minutes and she got the impression he was sleeping now, rather than just unconscious.

She applied cooling antibacterial ointment to his burns. It took a while. Then she covered him and left him, locking and covering the entrance to the safe room. He could get out, if he tried hard enough.

Jea retraced her path. She washed the office chair, disinfecting it and wiping down the cart as well as the lift. She put his clothes in the sanitation locker. They were obviously not hers, but the sanitation would remove any traces of him. Back upstairs she checked the front and back before she took a light out to the alley to search for any evidence that the man had been there. She found a pair of goggles, thick and black, just beneath the dumpster.

The wildcat was there, just finishing its meal.

Jea considered what evidence could be there that was unseen, and what she could do about it. She ran down to her butcher room and brought up the full bucket of refuse. Normally she didn’t use the dumpster to dispose of the mess, but special problems called for special solutions. She checked the alley again before she poured a portion out on the ground where she’d found him lying. She poured more on the side of the dumpster and then dumped the rest in the dumpster before locking it.

The cat approached cautiously again, as she had hoped. Any evidence that wasn’t covered by the ‘accidental’ mess would quickly be contaminated by anything drawn to feed on the blood. She would have to clean up the mess eventually, but for now it would serve her purpose. If the man was tracked this far, it would be impossible to tell that he hadn’t gone further.

Jea was exhausted. She should have been in bed hours ago, and now it would only be a few hours before she would have to be up to start her day. And her days were usually long.

Considering that and the secret she had hidden away she figured the best thing would be to stay with him. She would check to see if there was anything else she could do for him, and maybe catch a few hours sleep while she watched over him. Hopefully he would wake enough for her to explain the situation, because once her day started she wouldn’t have time to come down and check on him.

Jea sat in an armchair and watched the man sleep. Once he woke her with his groans and she checked on him. He was hotter. His body would be working to heal itself already, causing his fever to rise. She made another dose of crushed meds and spoon fed it to him. Again he seemed to rest more calmly after.

The next time he woke her it scared her. He yelled and tried to rise. He’d gotten an elbow under himself and swung a leg over the side before she reached his side.

“Settle, settle,” she whispered, trying to sooth him. When she touched him he jerked beneath her touch. He raised a hand as if to hit her or ward her off.

Jea gripped his wrist, not trying to force him, and she rubbed across his bare scalp, one of the only places that wasn’t injured. “Settle. You’re safe.”

The eyes that glared up at her were as shiny as they’d been in the darkness of the alley. Enhanced. “Where?”

She tried to ease him back down, still rubbing, hoping to comfort him. “You’re in the sub-level of my store. In a safe room. No one will find you here.”

His eyes closed and after a minute he laid down, letting her situate the sheet over him again. “Why?”

The question came on a sigh, and he didn’t move again.

“I found you behind my store. Those burns tell enough of your story. If I’d have left you or called the authorities you’d be dead now.”

“S’matter to you?”

She understood enough of his mumbled words to answer, “It doesn’t. Not really. I’m in as much trouble as you for helping you, but I couldn’t leave you in the street to die.”

“Stupid.”

Jea smiled. He was calling her stupid for saving his life, for protecting him.

“I need you to know that I have to leave. I have a business to run. I’ve done enough to draw attention, if I close my store they’ll suspect something.”

He didn’t speak and she didn’t know if he’d heard her at all.

“There are supplies here. Water and medicine and food. You are two levels below the surface. This safe room is behind my cooler. You’ll be safe here.”

Again no response.

“I’ll try to check on you this afternoon, but otherwise I won’t be back until nightfall.”

Still no indication that he’d heard her at all. She had to go. It was early, still before dawn, but she had things to do before she opened the store.

Jea pushed open the door and stepped through. She was about to close it, sealing him inside when his head turned and she saw the flash of his eyes.

“Thanks.”

Jea nodded. It wasn’t much, but she figured he didn’t especially like the situation he’d found himself in. She knew she wouldn’t. His injuries made him vulnerable, and completely dependent on her. Add to it that she had saved him, that he should be grateful, would be hard to accept. His size and the concealed blade and the intensity of his punishment told her that he was someone that could take care of himself. The authorities hadn’t shot him up for no reason. He’d been a threat to someone.
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