Green Eyes
Chapter 8: Shift
Honestly, those people were hopeless.
I mean, am I the only person actually thinking about survival?
It was mostly out of irritation that I took the reins, and no one objected.
Shazza and Paris were tasked with stripping the ship of anything useful, like undamaged wiring or tubing, and making sleds out of metal paneling to carry heavy loads.
Zeke dragged off the newest body to bury in the grave he had already made-a concept I still felt was a waste of time and resources, but figured would make them feel better-, and Jack happily went through the storage again for spare clothes and comfortable shoes, eager to help.
Once everyone had a task and was completing that task efficiently, I finally found time to focus on what had been troubling me.
Clicking, hissing, growling…
Even with my dulled hearing, I could make it out, like the hum of static through a radio.
Whatever the surface said, this planet held life, and it wasn’t friendly.
Prowling the perimeter, I followed the sound as it grew, multiple beasts joining in and creating a discordant harmony.
It grew in pitch, as if in excitement, and the knot of dread in my belly spoke volumes.
Shit.
Running across the sand in an easy lope, I stayed low, picking up speed as the clicking and hissing became louder and louder.
They were hunting something.
Or someone.
With that thought in mind, I stopped holding back and took off at full speed towards the spires.
Inches from the tarp, something happened that fueled my blood with adrenaline.
The clicking, the hissing, the growling…
It stopped.
I tore my way through the plastic just as Zeke shouted, a handful of gunshots piercing the air.
Grabbing the man by both ankles, I tore him out of the hole he had been wedged into, entire body humming with energy at the scent of fresh blood.
When nothing exited the tunnel after him, despite all the red gushing from his sliced arm, I forced myself to calm down and take a deep breath.
A familiar scent caught my attention then-musk and sweat and blood-, and I looked up to see Riddick crouched on the grave’s edge, watching everything.
How long had he been there?
Had he seen me…?
“Zeke!”
Realizing what she might think-Zeke hurt, Riddick with a knife, me standing between them-, I growled.
“Go.”
Whipping around, I helped Zeke sit up, ignoring the blood slicking my hands as I put pressure.
“Zeke!” Shazza shouted, scrambling down into the grave despite her husband’s assurances and protests.
“I’m fine, Shazza! Would’ve been a lot worse if she hadn’t pulled me out when she did.”
I shrugged off the praise, stepping back as the grateful free settler took over, turning to study the hole more closely.
Why hadn’t they come out?
A grunt of pain distracted me at that moment, and I tensed, every inch of skin prickling dangerously.
Riddick.
Before I even thought of what I was doing, I was already running through the spires, pupils contracted into slits as my vision tunneled.
The moment I saw Johns, baton in one hand and Riddick’s goggles in the other, I officially lost my temper.
Johns yelped as I caught his baton on the next swing, wheezing when I shouldered his chest and used the leverage to throw him over my shoulder.
The merc hit the sand with a groan a few feet away, struggling to breathe, as the rest of the survivors finally caught up.
“What’s going on?” Carolyn demanded, staying back as Riddick rose, eyes closed.
“Johns was being a moron, so I corrected him.” I told her, calmer than I felt.
Retrieving the goggles, I shook out the sand and carefully blew to remove the more stubborn grains as I crouched by his side.
“Here.”
He took them easily enough, blind as he was at the moment, and the ‘captain’ took a hasty step back, as did Paris.
Shazza and Zeke seemed a bit uneasy, but didn’t retreat, and Imam only watched quietly, acolytes safely huddled behind him.
“What are you doing?” Carolyn demanded. “He just attacked you!”
“No, he didn’t.” I corrected, staring her down. “Zeke was attacked by something else.”
She faltered, surprised.
“But…We thought…”
“Assuming makes an ass out of you and me.” I reminded, standing up as Riddick got his bearings and followed suit.
“So, what? Now you trust him?” Johns spat, struggling to sit upright as he glared. “How do you know he wouldn’t have killed you anyway, and just got beaten to the punch?”
“Considering all the times he could have and didn’t, I’ll take my chances.”
“She’s right.” Zeke spoke up, a wad of blood-stained cloth pressed tight to his arm. “He had the chance to kill us in that hole, but he didn’t.”
Shazza nodded in agreement, supporting her husband, and it eased some of the group’s concerns.
Johns looked over everyone before his glare landed back on me, obviously upset that my word was overruling his, and I couldn’t help but smile.
About time I stopped letting them play leader, anyway.
I mean, am I the only person actually thinking about survival?
It was mostly out of irritation that I took the reins, and no one objected.
Shazza and Paris were tasked with stripping the ship of anything useful, like undamaged wiring or tubing, and making sleds out of metal paneling to carry heavy loads.
Zeke dragged off the newest body to bury in the grave he had already made-a concept I still felt was a waste of time and resources, but figured would make them feel better-, and Jack happily went through the storage again for spare clothes and comfortable shoes, eager to help.
Once everyone had a task and was completing that task efficiently, I finally found time to focus on what had been troubling me.
Clicking, hissing, growling…
Even with my dulled hearing, I could make it out, like the hum of static through a radio.
Whatever the surface said, this planet held life, and it wasn’t friendly.
Prowling the perimeter, I followed the sound as it grew, multiple beasts joining in and creating a discordant harmony.
It grew in pitch, as if in excitement, and the knot of dread in my belly spoke volumes.
Shit.
Running across the sand in an easy lope, I stayed low, picking up speed as the clicking and hissing became louder and louder.
They were hunting something.
Or someone.
With that thought in mind, I stopped holding back and took off at full speed towards the spires.
Inches from the tarp, something happened that fueled my blood with adrenaline.
The clicking, the hissing, the growling…
It stopped.
I tore my way through the plastic just as Zeke shouted, a handful of gunshots piercing the air.
Grabbing the man by both ankles, I tore him out of the hole he had been wedged into, entire body humming with energy at the scent of fresh blood.
When nothing exited the tunnel after him, despite all the red gushing from his sliced arm, I forced myself to calm down and take a deep breath.
A familiar scent caught my attention then-musk and sweat and blood-, and I looked up to see Riddick crouched on the grave’s edge, watching everything.
How long had he been there?
Had he seen me…?
“Zeke!”
Realizing what she might think-Zeke hurt, Riddick with a knife, me standing between them-, I growled.
“Go.”
Whipping around, I helped Zeke sit up, ignoring the blood slicking my hands as I put pressure.
“Zeke!” Shazza shouted, scrambling down into the grave despite her husband’s assurances and protests.
“I’m fine, Shazza! Would’ve been a lot worse if she hadn’t pulled me out when she did.”
I shrugged off the praise, stepping back as the grateful free settler took over, turning to study the hole more closely.
Why hadn’t they come out?
A grunt of pain distracted me at that moment, and I tensed, every inch of skin prickling dangerously.
Riddick.
Before I even thought of what I was doing, I was already running through the spires, pupils contracted into slits as my vision tunneled.
The moment I saw Johns, baton in one hand and Riddick’s goggles in the other, I officially lost my temper.
Johns yelped as I caught his baton on the next swing, wheezing when I shouldered his chest and used the leverage to throw him over my shoulder.
The merc hit the sand with a groan a few feet away, struggling to breathe, as the rest of the survivors finally caught up.
“What’s going on?” Carolyn demanded, staying back as Riddick rose, eyes closed.
“Johns was being a moron, so I corrected him.” I told her, calmer than I felt.
Retrieving the goggles, I shook out the sand and carefully blew to remove the more stubborn grains as I crouched by his side.
“Here.”
He took them easily enough, blind as he was at the moment, and the ‘captain’ took a hasty step back, as did Paris.
Shazza and Zeke seemed a bit uneasy, but didn’t retreat, and Imam only watched quietly, acolytes safely huddled behind him.
“What are you doing?” Carolyn demanded. “He just attacked you!”
“No, he didn’t.” I corrected, staring her down. “Zeke was attacked by something else.”
She faltered, surprised.
“But…We thought…”
“Assuming makes an ass out of you and me.” I reminded, standing up as Riddick got his bearings and followed suit.
“So, what? Now you trust him?” Johns spat, struggling to sit upright as he glared. “How do you know he wouldn’t have killed you anyway, and just got beaten to the punch?”
“Considering all the times he could have and didn’t, I’ll take my chances.”
“She’s right.” Zeke spoke up, a wad of blood-stained cloth pressed tight to his arm. “He had the chance to kill us in that hole, but he didn’t.”
Shazza nodded in agreement, supporting her husband, and it eased some of the group’s concerns.
Johns looked over everyone before his glare landed back on me, obviously upset that my word was overruling his, and I couldn’t help but smile.
About time I stopped letting them play leader, anyway.