Riddick 1:Pitch Black by Frank Lauria

Author:Frank Lauria [Lauria, Frank]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St Martins Pr
Published: 2004-01-01T14:00:00+00:00

Fry was all business.

Suddenly acting like the captain everyone mistakenly thought she was, Fry crossed the compound with wide, determined strides, briskly snapping orders. “. . . Need those power cells from the crash ship right away . . .” She stopped short when they reached the skiff. “Shit—still gotta check out the hull, patch the wings . . .”

“Let’s wait on those power cells,” Johns suggested.

Fry thought she had heard wrong. “Wait— For what? Until it’s so dark we can’t find our way back to . . .”

“We’re not sure when it happens,” Johns said with condescending logic. “So let’s not . . .”

His self-righteous arrogance touched a nerve. “Get the fucking cells over here, Johns,” Fry directed. She looked at him as if examining a mental case. “What’s the discussion?”

Johns glanced around covertly. Then he leaned closer. His breath reeked of alcohol. “Ever tell you how Riddick escaped?”

He let it sink in, then motioned her into the privacy of the skiff.

Johns told Riddick’s story quickly and graphically, especially the details about carving his victims’ body parts. But that wasn’t what alarmed Fry the most.

“He can pilot?” she said incredulously. The skill required superior intelligence and intense training. It also elevated Riddick’s danger potential. Once the skiff was repaired he didn’t need any of them to escape—alone.

“Highjacked a prison transport,” Johns confided. “Made a helluva good run ’fore I tracked him down.”

But Fry saw the glass as half-full. “Okay, okay, maybe that’s a good thing,” she said hopefully. “Maybe I can use him to help with . . .”

“He also figured out how to kill the pilot, Fry.”

It worked. A mental shiver smothered Fry’s optimism. However, something else disturbed her. “You said we were going to trust him,” Fry reminded. “You said there was a deal.”

“That’s what I said.”

Johns met her stare, jaw clamped like a white shark, eyes challenging.

Fry didn’t like what she saw. “Oh, this is a dangerous game you’re playing, Johns.”

“May’ve noticed chains don’t work on this guy. Only way we’re truly safe is if he believes he’s goin’ free. But if he stops believin’ . . .”

“You mean if he learns that you’re gonna royally fuck him over.”

Johns ignored her open contempt. “We bring the cells over at the last possible minute . . . when the wings are ready.” He went on urgently. “When we know we’re gonna launch.”

Fry regarded him with undisguised amazement at his lack of basic human integrity. He was more evil than he claimed Riddick to be, Fry realized, because supposedly, Johns knew better. But through this whole ordeal the man had been obsessed with Riddick. From what she could see it was Johns who was psycho here.

“You know he hasn’t harmed any of us,” she said in a level voice. “Far as I can tell he hasn’t even lied to us. Just stick to the deal, Johns. Let him go if that’s what it—”

Johns’ fingers tightened on his ever-present shotgun. “He’s a murderer,” he rasped, eyes bulging with sudden rage.

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