Eyes In Darkness

Chapter 11

Riddick eased the hatch open, and the world beyond was nothing but black.
The kind of dark that presses close, heavy and alive. You couldn't see a thing—only hear it.
The scrape of claws. The hiss of wings. The slow, hungry sounds echoing through the ruins of the ship.

He lowered his goggles over his eyes, silver reflections catching the faint pulse of the blue emergency lights behind him.

Johns leaned forward. "How's it look?"

Riddick's voice stayed even. "Looks clear."

Something swooped overhead—so close it stirred the dust at our feet. Johns jumped back, nearly losing his balance.

"I thought you said it was clear!"

Riddick didn't even blink. "I said it looked clear."

"Well, how's it look now?"

Riddick's mouth curved in that familiar half-smile. "Looks clear."

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing, which only made his grin grow slightly wider. Even in the dark, he knew it.

We moved out behind him, wrapped in blue emergency lights that cast a dim halo around our small group. The glow kept the creatures hesitant—but only barely. Riddick didn't wear any. The light wrecked his night vision, the one thing keeping us alive. Instead, he clipped a few dull lamps to his back so we could track his outline without blinding him.

Jack and I kept the ends of our cords out, ready to flash them at anything that came too near.

After nearly an hour of creeping through the black, Paris stumbled and hit the ground. His torch rolled away, spinning to a stop several feet ahead.

Jack darted after it before I could stop him. "Jack, come back!" I hissed.

He froze just as a creature swooped down. I lunged, yanking him back inside the ring of light. Its claw missed him—but caught me. Fire tore across my side.

Before I could recover, another scream echoed. Paris was crawling away, his light sputtering—and then it died.

The dark swallowed him.

For an instant a burst of fire flared—Paris's torch igniting near his hand—and we saw them: wings, claws, teeth, all closing in. Then everything went black again.

The noises that followed were the kind that stayed with you. Tearing. Crunching.

Jack buried his face against me. "We're gonna lose everyone," he whispered.

I held him close, whispering nonsense comfort until his trembling slowed. Then his hand brushed my side, and pain stole my breath.

Riddick was there in a heartbeat. "You hit?"

"The creature nicked me," I managed.

He crouched beside me, shielding me from the others as he checked the wound—a deep gash from hip to rib, bleeding fast. He tore the hem of my shirt and tied it tight around my waist.

"It'll hold for now," he muttered.

He rose, taking point again, glancing back every so often to make sure I was still on my feet.

Eventually I noticed our own footprints. We'd doubled back.

Fry and Johns started whispering, then stopped outright. "Where are you taking us?" Johns demanded.

Riddick turned slowly. "Saw something I didn't like. Circled back."

"Why?" Fry's tone was sharp.

"For her and the kid," Riddick said, nodding toward me and Jack.

"Which girl?" Fry asked, too quickly. "Jade's the only one bleeding."

"Her," Riddick said, pointing at Jack. "They've been tailing us since we left. Before Jade got hit."

The air went tense.

Johns narrowed his eyes, already knowing what came next. "You sure about that?"

Riddick reached up and pulled his goggles off. The faint light caught his eyes—mirror-bright and predatory.

"You know I am," he said.

Johns's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. They all knew what Riddick could see in the dark. He didn't need the goggles anymore—he never did.

He looked past Johns, into the endless black, and said quietly, "Stay close."

And we did. Because whatever waited out there, Riddick could see it coming.