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Faint Premonition	By : ehiltebe Category: M through R > Pitch Black Views: 2132 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: In no way do I own any part of Pitch Black, its setting, or its characters, and I make no money from this work. I just get to play with them.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
I know, I know, it's over a week late. But I'm making up for it by posting this chapter and the ninth and final chapter tonight. I plan on starting to post the second fic in the series this coming Wednesday. Please read, enjoy, and review!
Faint Premonition

A Pitch Black Alternate Universe

Chapter Eight

Having recovered my equilibrium, sort of, I turned a corner and stepped onto the homegrown tarmac just as the aft hull of the skiff lowered to form a ramp. At the same time, Shazza and Jack slithered out from underneath the Sand Cat, both liberally smeared with dust and grease. The bushwhacker slid into the driver’s seat as her ‘assistant’ stepped back, the machine starting with a purr and a youthful whoop of joy.

Fry, coming out of the emergency craft, looked over at them briefly, then scanned the area. Her eyes fixed on me, and I stifled a groan; apparently they’d elected me leader while I was away from them. The blonde strode over quickly.

“Everything’s green except for the power levels. All we need is those cells.” I nodded before crouching by my bags. Since they were right where I’d left them, it took but a moment to retrieve my pistol and the three spare clips of ammo. Weapons standards being what they were, the clips would fit into the gun formerly owned by Johns just as well as they fit mine. I straightened, turning to where the boys, their mentor, and the men who would be staying behind were clustered.

“Here.” I held each semi-automatic by the barrel as I presented them to Sean and Paris. The heavy-set man took one without hesitation, while the merchant acted like the firearm was a snake that would bite him. “When it starts getting dark, pack it in and turn on every interior light. And stay well in the light; they might try for anyone too close to the shadows.” Zeke grimaced, rubbing around his elbow, where the dressing ended. Not a lesson any of them would forget soon, I thought. Maybe not ever.

“Saddle up, people! Let’s move!” At Riddick’s shout, Abu bent to say one last thing to his charges before following me to the Cat. Using a wheel for a step, I swung lightly up into the bed. The makeshift sled leaned against the roll cage on the other side; apparently I wasn’t the only one who thought the eclipse would arrive before we returned.

Even with a good 350-plus kilos of load, the geologists’ rugged vehicle managed a fair turn of speed. The convict, looking forward, pointed at something, and my head whipped around just in time to see Jack duck, preventing the old ribcage from taking off her head. The high metal bars on either side of her did hit the bones. Chips flew in all directions, and the structure tumbled into the canyon behind us.

That’s gonna slow us down.

After a moment, the kid tugged on one arm of the half-forgotten jacket tied around my waist. I handed it over, and she began rubbing industriously at the plastic dome over the generator. As grime came off, the engine hummed louder, granting us perhaps another klick or two per hour of travel.

Our erstwhile chariot burst onto the dry plain like a bat out of hell, trailing a faint cloud of dust. I glanced at the western horizon, then did a double-take; a peculiar fuzziness had joined the heat shimmer in the air. After a heartbeat of frozen panic, my mind went into overdrive, developing contingency plans.

The size of the group made the pulling list a short one. Jack would need years of growth and training before she’d be capable of even dragging one of the thirty-five kilo cells very far. I had no sure idea of Fry and Shazza’s hauling potential, but counted them as debatable. Even I would have difficulty with the task. That left only the three men with us, but there might be something else we women could do to help. I leaned forward and tapped the blonde woman’s shoulder as the wreck came into sight.

“Is there any kind of lighting still functional in there that you could pull out?” My voice neared a yelling volume to get over the sound of the Cat. “We ain’t beatin’ the dark, an’ this thing’s solar!”

“Fiberoptics in the command module,” she yelled back. “But the way back isn’t marked!”

“It is, t’ me.” The big man leaned in to contribute, a reflection of the binary suns flashing across his shades. “Between th’ tracks and an’ landmarks, I c’n lead when th’ light goes.” Fry appeared a bit confused, but didn’t pursue the subject.

“You pull those optics while the guys get the cells.” We skidded to a halt, tailgate angled toward the gaping hull. “Jack, stay here and sing out the moment you see sure sign of one of the gas giants. Shazza, with me.” Everyone but the girl piling out in a hurry, I loped off toward the cargo pod, the bushwhacker right on my heels.

“What’re we lookin’ for?” I shoved open the damaged door to Paris’ compartment and started digging through the jumble of antiques.

“Any of the booze you can find. If it’s over forty-five proof, hang on to it, ‘cause that’ll burn well enough to make torches when we need ‘em.” Something fell with a metallic ‘thump.’ “Flashlights, too.” Then, for a while, neither of us spoke.

“Guess I’ll have t’ call Dad when we get back t’ civilization.” The brunette’s grumbling piqued my interest. “Hope he’ll cut Zeke a little slack for a change.”

“Doesn’t think Zeke’s good enough for you?” She didn’t seem to mind my asking.

“Bloody hell, no. Last time I talked to ‘im, he called m’husband ‘low-born trash.’ Ended that conversation right quick.”

“Where the fuck do people get those kinds of stupid fuckin’ ideas?” I uncovered a bottle of Jack Daniels, wrinkling my nose at the brown liquid inside. “Born with silver spoons in their damn mouths?”

“Well, yeah.” That brought my head up real fast, and I saw Shazza fingering her necklace. I hadn’t gotten a good look at it before, thought it might be metal-plated beads. But no, I saw the slight irregularities and realized now that it probably could have bought the Hunter-Gratzner prior to the crash: four strands of big, fat, black pearls. Goddamn. “M’dad’s Robert Montgomery.”

“Not the Robert Montgomery?” She blinked at me. “Randy Trent’s friend?” The mention of the head of MM&T got a snort and a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah… but not many can get away with callin’ Uncle Randy that.”

“He’s had me do some long-distance consultations on tough cases.” I got back to rooting through the hodgepodge as I talked. “A little annoyed that I refuse to go cryo for travel; a mere criminologist, no matter how good, doesn’t rate a hyper-capable ship’s fees.” Silence, and I decided to take a chance. “I… Something told me I’d be needed on this ship. I was the last person put in a passenger tube.”

“Damn straight we need you.” The force in the other woman’s assertion indicated that I’d chosen the right person to confess to. “Th’ med-kit, shades, sunscreen, oxy caps… weapons. That ‘something’ told you what t’pack, too, didn’t it?”

“Mhm.” I frowned to myself. “I think I might have said something to Riddick that got him to rescue Zeke.” She hummed a wordless question. “Johns was right about which way he went. Sneaked up on me while I was snooping around in the boneyard, and we had ourselves a little conversation. I told him to ‘play nice with the other children.’” Shazza stifled a laugh.

“I got four… don’t think I can carry any more without breakin’ somethin’.” Spotting a heavy-duty flashlight, I stuck it through my belt and snagged a Jim Beam, bringing my own total to four. Then I followed the free settler out.

“Hurry up!” The kid had quite the set of lungs, her voice sounding clearly across the terrain. “Ring comin’ up west!” Both of us broke into a shambling, careful run as I saw Johns and Abu hauling a cylindrical piece of equipment out of the cockpit. Right behind them, the big guy carried two power cells, one over each shoulder, with no apparent strain at all. And a shit-eating grin on his face.

The bottles went in one front corner of the bed, alongside the flashlight I’d found and three more that Carolyn turned up. I scrambled up the roll cage as Riddick lifted the sled from the other side and clapped it down over the cargo. He took two quick loops of the cable around the rear bumper, one from either side of the sheet metal, and then weighted it down by the simple expedient of sitting on it. Shazza put the hammer down just a fraction of a second after the merc got a good hold on a safety handle. As he flailed for another point of purchase, the tires spat out dust and gravel, propelling us back the way we’d come at full speed.

We’d just barely hit the gravel hills when the light dimmed. The solar-powered engine sputtered and whined as it slowed. A look back showed me part of a massive sphere and two wide arcs of space debris soaring into the sky. The further-flung one of them crossed the yellow star, the Cat jerking ahead as it passed. Then the second and fatter ring covered the sun again as its sibling obscured the red star. The engine died entirely, and we rolled to a stop.

“Oh. My. God.” Fry’s half-whispered words, filled with terror, snapped my attention over to the still-visible spires silhouetted against deep orange atmosphere… and the smoke-like darkness emerging from them. Fisting my hands in Jack and the pilot’s shirts, I dove off the vehicle and took them with me. At least they caught on quickly when I scuttled under the chassis and joined me.

Shazza rolled in, my hand shooting out over the kid’s back to keep her from flattening any of us more than we already were. Her dazed expression, combined with the momentum, told me she’d been thrown under with us by the convict. It was getting a bit crowded in the space between the wheels.

Until the sled thumped down, the cables around the bumper turning it into a lean-to with another two and a half meters of cover. The imam crawled in, and then, after a slight scuffle and a dull ‘thud,’ so did the last two members of our party. Or rather, Riddick crawled in and dragged the stunned and maybe even concussed Johns behind him.

Hard-headed obviously doesn’t even come close. The guys at the office will love hearing this.

As the now blood-red twilight deepened, part of the seething cloud split off. No longer could it be mistaken for anything but living creatures. Like a negative image of a comet, it streaked toward the wreck we couldn’t see anymore… and the pasted, partially carbonized remains of around thirty human bodies. The mass stayed in that area only briefly before heading straight for us.

A small, high-pitched whine, nearly inaudible even to my wider range, started up next to me, and I slapped a dusty hand over the blonde’s mouth. She choked on the proto-scream, and I saw Jack cover her own lips out of the corner of my eye. With my free hand, I pulled off my sunglasses, closed them against my collarbone, and stuck them securely in a thigh pocket. Then I looked back out, vision unimpeded, as the squealing mob of creatures neared.

My first instinct to hit the deck had, as usual, been right; the little beasts gave the ground around a meter of clearance, chittering madly as they flew. They treated the Sand Cat as little more than a big rock, the sea of bodies parting around it without hitting a damned thing. Just in case, I pinned the kid with a hand on her back. She squirmed just a little, but didn’t make a peep.

The things went past, but I still didn’t let go of Fry or the girl. They both jerked when the wave of alien predators made another flyby. The gas giant swallowed the last of the real light as we were finally left alone. My purple-hued night vision kept me rooted to the spot as I watched the distant hilltop crumble from within, releasing much larger relatives of our harassers, many probably near the size of our very temporary shelter.

“Lez’go, lez’go!” My growl had the others bursting from cover to start unloading our cargo by feel. Riddick took his time, casually dusting off his hands as he stared at me. I could see the shine of his retinas, a cool silver contrast, and knew he could see mine in return. Momentarily, he frowned, before heaving two power cells off the bed and onto the sheet metal with a ‘thunk’ and a slither as the cables released the bumper.

The pilot flipped a switch, and I squinted briefly as my eyes switched back to normal sight. Not a good thing, not in these conditions. I snagged the flashlights and a coil of thin, flexible material. It could have been electrical wire, surveying line, hell, even detonation cord, but I didn’t care. What mattered was the quick solution to distribution of free light sources that it could become. I tied two harnesses, one simple that would shine the big torch down my back and a small one down my front, and one complex that would put the two mid-sized handlights down the convict’s back and still leave him free to pull the swingblades when necessary.

When, not if.

Five loops of fiberoptic cable, glowing blue, tethered the others to the generator and the sled it rode on. Johns and Abu lifted the lines, but froze when Riddick spoke.

“I want th’ light on my back, not in my face.” His tone allowed for no argument or disobedience. I handed him the pair of flashlights, moving to the opposite end of the convoy when he shrugged the cord over his shoulders without turning. “I can’t lead ya anywhere if I’ve been flash-blinded.” He looked back just slightly, that metallic shine flashing for a second.

“Where the hell can I get eyes like that?” Jack’s question burst from her on the exhale of an amazed gasp. It sounded almost too eager, and the large frame tensed just a hair before the reply came.

“Don’t rightly know, kid. I find out, I’ll tell you.”

He hasn’t had them all his life? But… I have. If we’re from the same people, then why the difference? And how?

He moved off at a slow, casual walk that the others could keep up with despite their burdens. I fingered the barrel of my rifle as I turned to watch the backtrail. I hadn’t really thought about the weapon since before leaving the settlement, but that was par for the course. I doubted that I’d use it in any case; I couldn’t waste the time or ammunition that finding the kill zone on these motherfuckers would require. Better to stick to Dextra and Sinistra, with their incredibly durable coating of titanium carbon nitride.

Blades don’t need to be reloaded.

“Aw, you gotta be shittin’ me!” At the merc’s groan, I whipped back around. “A criminologist with a prison shine?” Knowing that my eyes were back to steel blue with a black pupil, unable to see anything beyond the small circle of light, I stalked toward the blond.

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” The too-calm growl was a tone of voice that scared even the usually-unflappable Jamie shitless. I got right up in the bastard’s face. “Do you see a shine job? Or are you fuckin’ high again?” My inner beast lurked very close to the surface, and she wanted dearly to rip the child-killer limb from limb. He bared his teeth in a pitiful attempt to snarl, to which I responded with a casual-appearing backhanded slap that hit hard enough to turn his head nearly ninety degrees. “Get a goddamned move on, dumbass, before I gut you on principle.”

I stormed back to my self-assigned rearguard position as the little caravan got going again. The pilot glanced at me warily, as though direct eye contact would make me jump all over her case. The girl grinned, and the bushwhacker settled for a smirk. Peering into the darkness, I walked backward in the sled’s wake, my eyes adjusting again to reveal large predators, big enough to match any of us, circling at a cautious distance.

“An’ Dad thinks Zeke is uncivilized.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” I could tell that my grin was audible by the kid’s smothered laugh. “I put on a front most of the time, especially for work. But the ex-Sergeants I train with gimme a lot of room to let the animal out.” The brunette chuckled quietly, and then a hush descended over us, leaving the crunch of gravel underfoot, the hiss of breathers from occasional hits of oxygen, and the eerie whooping and clicking calls of the aliens.

“Why are we leaving the trail?” Fry asked several minutes later. I feared that the answer had to do with the crunching and tearing of flesh that my ears had picked up.

“Hard t’ tell, but it looks like a couple of those big boys tearin’ each other’s gonads off.” Riddick’s frank reply made me wince. “Figured we’d better go ‘round ‘em. That okay with you, Skipper?” Derision leaked into his voice; he knew she wasn’t the captain. She shut up.

The boneyard made me twitchy as hell. Large forms moved inside the massive ribcages, sporadic talons and sinuous, forked tails poking out between the close-set bones. With so little space for us to move in, I worried that each new move by the beasts would be the one that told them we’d be nice to have for dinner. And not as guests.

The bones thinned out, but my shoulders relaxed only for a few moments before I spotted the tire tracks moving off to my right. I scanned for the problem as we continued to veer in the same direction. Nearly halfway around, the canyon came into view, its cliff tops teeming with predators, the biggest ones with heads probably as high and wide as I was tall.

A goddamned gauntlet. Waiting for us to enter the narrow channel, where we could be picked off at their leisure. No wonder the convict was leading us in a circle, he needed time to come up with a plan.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Johns balked the moment our earlier drag marks probably entered the small halo of blue light.

“Why are we crossing our own path?”

“Canyon.” I kept my face expressionless as I turned to face forward.

“Needed time t’ figure out how t’ get through with her bleedin’.” Fry’s head whipped back and forth as she tried to follow who was speaking at the moment.

“None of them are cut.” The merc scowled. Certifiable idiot as well as Grade-A asshole.

“Not that kinda bleedin’.” The big guy’s all-too-casual return shot caused feet to shuffle. Jack glanced at me with the question in her eyes, but I shook my head. No reason to reveal her secret at the moment, because the cowardly bitch was the one attracting them.

“‘Snot me.” Shazza’s jaw clenched, the muscles working under the skin. “Had mine a week before we went into cryo.”

“Not me, either.” Having made my disclaimer, I turned cool eyes on the pilot.

“They’ve been nose-open for her th’ entire time.” Inflectionless words had the others glaring at the blonde in an instant.

“Well, butch up and stuff a cork in it.” The tow-headed pair locked stares.

“Did what I could already, dickwad. Let’s just go, get through the canyon and leave this shitty little rock.” With a snarl, the former MP threw his cable to the ground, ditched his loop of fiberoptics, and lit another green flare as he stalked toward Riddick, walking about five meters ahead.

“Where are you going?” Fry asked as she took his place, I moved closer, my feet missing the back edge of the sled by centimeters.

“Oh, I don’t know, Carolyn.” He turned halfway between the sled and our guide, spreading his arms. “Thought I’d go for a stroll— nice breeze, wide open space. I’m starting to enjoy my fuckin’ self out here.”

“What? Are you high again, Johns?” Irritation filled the pilot’s voice, but the only response she got was the merc flipping her the bird as he got closer to Riddick.

“Ain’t all of us gonna make it.” Hearing the Southern drawl, my ears focused on it; the alien cries became mere background noise. No way could Johns be up to any good.

“Just realized that?” Sarcasm dripped off the convict’s words.

“Seven of us.” A lengthy pause. “If we could get through that canyon and lose just one, that’d be quite a fuckin’ feat, huh? A good thing, right?”

“Not if I’m th’ one.” Affected by the bristling tone, I felt a growl start deep in my chest. Before it could emerge, though, I tamped it down to a vibration.

“What if you’re one of six?” The shaven man’s stony silence didn’t seem to discourage the druggie. Instead, he explained. “Look, it’s hellified stuff, but no different from those battlefield doctors when they have to decide who lives and who dies. It’s called ‘triage,’ okay?” Another sign that the merc had no clue about Riddick’s military past. Another example of the Company’s efforts to erase the man’s history.

“Kept callin’ it ‘murder’ when I did it.” The smart-aleck reply forced me to stomp on my amused snort.

“Either way, I figure it’s somethin’ you can grab onto.” The muscles visible under the black tank tensed visibly. I knew, inexplicably, that he was no more comfortable with the direction Johns seemed to be headed in than I was. If the blond had had even two brain cells to rub together, he should have realized that only he fit into the categories of the convict’s past confirmed kills.

No clerics. Certainly no kids. And when it came to women, only those who had attacked him first.

“Sacrifice play.” Riddick began digging for the details of the merc’s plan. “Hack up one body, leave it at th’ start of th’ canyon. Like a bucket of chum.”

An apt analogy.

“Trawl with it.” My gorge rose, bitter fluid stinging at the back of my throat despite the fact that I had never been squeamish. “There’s another cable on the sled. We can drag the body behind us.”

“Nice embellishment.” Once again, Johns completely missed the sarcasm.

“We don’t wanna feed these land-sharks, just keep ‘em off our scent.” Ignore the fact that the fresh meat would be just behind us the entire time. I rolled my eyes.

“So which one caught your eye?” Riddick glanced back over his shoulder, meeting my eyes. The unvoiced question had me grimacing and nodding. I’d heard, all right.

“Don’ look, don’ look, don’ look!” Johns’ hiss turned our guide forward again. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Let’s not name the Thanksgiving turkey, okay?”

“Slow down a little.” Fry put a hand on Abu’s arm, watching the other two men warily. “Put a little distance between us and them.”

“Keep moving.” She looked at me. “Or do you want me to not hear what’s up?” Even as I spoke, I moved forward to walk beside the blonde. The fiberoptic cables flickered, and Shazza pulled a bottle off the sled to light it. I returned my focus to the more important matter.

“Now, you got those fancy-ass knives… You do the kid, and I’ll keep the others off your back.”

“What, you ‘spect me to do it?” I smiled when I heard the indignant retort.

“What’s one more to ya?” My anger rose, but the convict beat me to the punch.

“Fuck you, merc.”

“Wrong victim to suggest, Billy-boy.” He whipped around to face my unamused smile. “Come on, now, don’t you research people before you decide to go after them?” I pointed. “He doesn’t do kids.”

“Wh- what the fuck are you talkin’ about?” I laughed, tapping my ear as my other hand drew a blade. Then the light was behind me, and my eyes changed as Johns stared, aghast.

“Hate to agree with ‘im, but what d’ya mean?”

“Simple, Shazza. Billy Bad-Ass was tryin’ to talk Big Evil into offin’ Jack as bait.” Riddick slipped out of the harness that held his flashlights, dropping them gently on the ground before moving away.

“First he deceives us, and now he plots the death of another child?” The cleric sounded like he was actually getting pissed off.

“Think maybe we need a bigger piece of bait.” A broad hand flashed, like a snake striking its prey, and knocked the flare out of the other man’s grip. It spun to a halt in the middle of a clear area as the pair struggled over control of the gauge. Twice, it fired, each shot accompanied by a screech as the lead pellets found alien flesh. I sidled along the border between light and dark, watching the fight warily.

Johns managed to get enough of a hold to smash the stock into the larger man’s arm, dislocating his elbow with a dull ‘pop’ and wrenching the shotgun away. It slipped through his hands, though, landing near the edge of the impromptu arena. Riddick realigned his own bones with a jerk before moving forward again.

The merc snatched up a long bone and began swinging it like a club, but my attention went past him. Large creatures had begun to gather, eyeless heads seeming to watch the fight. The convict evened the armaments again, finding his own cudgel.

“You’re a piece of work, Johns.” Bones met with a crack as I called out.

“They oughtta hang you up in a museum.” The gravelly voice practically continued my thought as the blond tried to force a retreat. He had no luck, of course; his opponent probably had a third again his mass.

“Or maybe they should just hang you,” I finished. Riddick’s club smashed the hype’s fingers, making him drop the bone as he fell. Johns reached for the gun only a few meters away.

“You wanna fight?” he asked, badge flashing in the flare’s light. “Bring it on, Trash Baby.” The big guy melted into the dark as I wondered where that vile little nickname came from.

“Just one rule.” His voice moved, the merc trying to orient on it as he swung the gauge up and opened its breech, loading two more shells. “Stay in th’ light.” Two random shots hit nothing but gruesome beasts, and the half-agitated whooping and clicking gained speed and volume as the wounded ones snapped at each other.

Another pair of shells went in, but not quickly enough. Riddick slipped behind the former MP as the flare sputtered, one swingblade parting the merc’s shirt and cutting shallowly into his back. Then the light died, me and the former captive standing on opposite sides of the doomed man.

“You were one brave fuck before. Really bad-ass. Th’ chains, th’ gauge, th’ badge.” As Johns spun, trying to pinpoint Riddick by his voice, the small piece of shiny metal fell off his battered shirt pocket. “Ya shoulda ghosted me.”

A big critter approached, and the merc fired blindly. But only the first shot echoed; nothing happened with the second.

He’d loaded a morphine shell.

Damn stupid place to hide your drugs, for someone in your line of work.

The moment of shock and hesitation was all that the creature needed. Bony-looking spikes rammed through his torso, then the razor-lined jaw opened wide, and the head whipped down. One crunch, and Johns’ entire head and most of his neck went down the alien’s throat. Watching it hunch over the rest of its meal and smack others away with its tail nearly made me puke—or would have, if there had been anything besides water in my stomach.

My animal side suddenly screeched a warning in my head, snapping my focus over to the man who’d been growing more and more important to me. An even larger beast loomed behind him, and somehow Riddick hadn’t sensed it. My reaction was automatic and instantaneous: sheath both blades, grab the barrel of my rifle with the left hand, pull it around and switch hands, slap the left on the stock, brace against my shoulder, flip the selector from ‘safety’ to ‘single fire,’ and squeeze. It took maybe five seconds.

The hollow-point round hit the creature’s head dead center. The bulbous protrusions landed a good two meters to either side, while the bottom section of the sickle-shape dropped straight down. The rest, apparently still attached to the body, snapped back with enough force to flip the corpse onto its back. I lowered my firearm with hands that shook as I put the safety back on. The beasts around us barely moved, not making a single sound.

The convict used two fingers to wipe a glob of the alien’s blood off his shoulder, sniffing at it and wrinkling his nose before flicking the thick substance away.

“Hemocyanin. Copper-based.” He glanced at me. “Adapted for low-oxygen environments.” I nodded, and we moved back toward the sled and the now-feebly flickering generator. Shazza lit another bottle, having passed torches to the other three, and the fiberoptics died with a whine.

“What happened?” Jack’s wide eyes glimmered with a threat of tears.

“Johns, the motherfucking, lazy-ass, scheming bastard, will not be rejoining us this evening.” I couldn’t help the smirk. “Or any other.” The girl nodded at me and sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“Don’t you cry for him.” Riddick seemed to misinterpret the action. “Don’t you dare.”

“I’m not.” The snappish retort brought a raised eyebrow from him. “I was worried something would get one of you two.” Then she pulled the coil of plastic over her head, dropped it on the ground, and started pushing at the useless generator. In the end, it took both the men to topple the thing and roll it away from the sled, but Fry and Abu seemed to need less effort to get the heart of our little caravan going again.

Still, our pace was more than slow enough for the gruesome natives to wear us down with attacks and eventually get one or more of us. As we moved, I wracked my brain, coming up with alternatives. But I discarded most of them as either impractical or too dangerous. The ‘Eureka!’ moment came just as we entered the canyon.

“Let’s stop for a minute, catch our breath so we can get through here at speed.” With nods of agreement, the pilot and priest pulled into a slight indentation in the cliff face, not quite deep enough to be considered even a shallow cave. Crouching, I went ahead and outlined my idea. “These cells mass about thirty-five kilos apiece, right?” Fry nodded. “And we’ve got the sled cables and some cord…” I turned to the convict. “If you don’t mind playing beast of burden one more time, we could tie the cells together and tow them the rest of the way, without the sled. Each of them carry a spare bottle of booze on their belts, around their necks, maybe?” He grunted and started untying the nearest length of heavy nylon. “I’ll take point, and he’ll have the rear. Then we run like hell.”

“But there’s only eight bottles.” Jack frowned at me. “How are you gonna lead without a good light?” She had a point, or would if I were normal, and I looked down at the flashlight on my chest. Its beam had gotten rather faint.

“For one thing, this canyon doesn’t branch.” I held up one finger, then raised a second. “And I could have switched places with Riddick any time without an issue.” That drew curious stares, so I raised a hand to block as much of the alcohol torches’ light as I could. The kid made an interested sound as I felt my eyes shift. The pilot scowled and opened her mouth, but I preempted her. “Been like this as long as I can remember. So shall we do this thing, get off this lovely little piece of real estate?”

In wordless response, the bushwhacker held out a hand, and I gave her what cording I had left over from making the flashlight harnesses. She and the girl tackled the spare alcohol torches while Fry huddled at the base of the cliff, curled into the smallest ball she could manage. The holy man knelt, head bowed and lips moving in prayer. I joined the big guy, partly so that my hands would be occupied, and partly to satisfy my feral side’s desire to be near him.

It felt strange, but right at the same time. The inner beast calmed every time we were close… Well, except when she wanted to jump his bones.

“Shall we pray together?” I ignored Abu, yanking the last knot tight. “I have already prayed with the others.” Still, neither of us responded. “It is painless.”

“It’s pointless.” A world of pain and resentment filled Riddick’s voice.

“Just because you do not believe in God does not mean God does not believe in—”

“Got it all wrong, holy man. ‘Cause you don’t spend half your life in lock-down with a horse-bit in your mouth an’ not believe.” He vibrated with tension, and I rested a hand on his arm. “An’ you surely don’t start out in a liquor store trash bin with an umbilical cord wrapped ‘round your throat an’ not believe.” So that was where Johns’ vile little nickname had come from. I’d already started to think that our similarities were more than coincidence; if he came from the same people as my birth mother, I suspected that the hunters had caught his mother and tried to kill him as well, either ripping him from her womb or within minutes of his birth. When I found out who had killed our biological parents, I swore to myself that I’d tear them apart with my bare hands. “Oh, I absolutely believe in God. An’ I absolutely hate th’ fucker.” The dark-skinned man turned his gaze to me.

“I’ve read your Qur’an, and the Bible, too. Your God is supposed to be benevolent and merciful to good people, but I’ve seen too much evil, too many of those good people hurt or killed for no reason.” I stopped there, not wanting to go into a rant. Abu chose that moment to interrupt.

“It is true, that many use His gift of free will to do evil, but would you rather He strip away that freedom from all of us to keep suffering from happening?” He shook his head. “Those victims may have suffered, but they are in heaven now, abiding with Him forever. And for the wicked, His vengeance shall come; He sends His shepherds to stop the wicked and send them to the depths of hell they deserve.” He glanced pointedly at Riddick.

“If your God actually gave a shit about folks,” I countered. “He wouldn’t let those things happen, and He certainly wouldn’t allow an entire culture to be hunted down and exterminated, wouldn’t force a woman to leave her days-old child with strangers to protect it, wouldn’t have children grow up in isolation from others because of abilities they don’t understand. But He does, so I want nothing to do with Him.”

The imam bowed his head, acknowledging that we had good points, and moved away, murmuring under his breath. Probably praying for us anyway.

“Orphaned?” Riddick sat down and leaned against the cliff. I nodded as I joined him, but something compelled me to elaborate.

“All I have from my biological mother is a brief, vague letter and the blanket she wrapped me in before she left me. My adoptive parents never even saw her.” I sighed. “She said someone was hunting our kin, our people, but she didn’t know why. Knew she’d be dead soon, too; left me behind to keep them from finding me.”

Quiet settled on us; my throat tightened and my eyes burned with tears that I refused to let fall. I’d been the more fortunate of us, given a home with adults who had tried to be supportive, at the very least. The convict had been at the mercy of an inept and corrupt bureaucracy from day one. Soundlessly, he shifted, an arm moving behind me, and I was upset enough from recalling my true mother’s only words to me that I just leaned against his side. A broad, warm hand settled on my hip, bringing even more comfort than the simple, undemanding physical contact.

We stayed that way until it was time to move on, the alien beasts whooping and whistling as they sailed through the skies above us.
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Faint Premonition