Chapter Eight

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Suleiman, Imam's oldest, had his neon tubes heaped around his ankles while he dangled above them like an obscene marionette. The rain was pouring down over his face and he blinked through stunned eyes as he looked down. A long gray claw protruded from his chest, glistening dark with blood. The scent sliced through the air with a coppery tang. A moment passed where he looked up at us all with a merely confused expression as if he was wondering why we were staring at him in utmost horror, and then he was swept away into the darkness without a sound.

The night then erupted into excited shrieks and roars from the creatures and cries of fear and anguish from the group. Imam fell to his knees with a strangled wail, his outstretched hands empty. There goes another one, the thought flashed unbidden in my mind and I instantly regretted it. I wanted to comfort him but he was on the opposite site of the cart which meant I would have to take off my light tubes. It wouldn't be a wise idea. Another came into my head and I didn't deny it; his god had witnessed this and done nothing; two of his boys were now dead with the remaining one being extremely vulnerable and likely to be targeted. What kind of a god was that?

As I stared at everyone, their actions seemed to be in slow motion; grief and fear was etched onto all the faces I could see as those nearest reached for each other. Jack, who was closest to me, grabbed my arm and clung desperately, saying something that didn't register. I barely felt it...if I were in Imam's position my faith would be crumbling like ruins; to be this close to the ship and suffer another loss was awful. Tears of shock and sadness stung my eyes but this was not the time to let them fall. Shaking my head, the world came back into focus and I grasped Jack's hand.

"Don't worry, I've got you."

Frye, who was closest to Imam, ran to him and gripped his shoulders.

"Imam...I - "

"We have to keep moving," Riddick interjected. "This light is gonna die soon and I want four walls around me when it does."

He was poised looking over his shoulder with the cart straps digging into his skin. Looking like a huge off-duty lumberjack sans the beard, his muscles bulged with the effort of the cart and rain washed over his skin like oil. His voice was hard and low; it was obvious he didn't have time to care about the sudden tragedy. Those lips were a hard line and even through his goggles his stare was determined. The weight was beginning to take a toll on him and I reveled in noting that it took almost an hour and a half of running while carrying a heavy load to even slow him down. That Furyan blood was potent.

"Godammit Riddick, he just lost another son –" Frye began through gritted teeth.

"Do you think they care about that?" Riddick roared, not needing to gesture to the creatures that swarmed around us, invigorated and encouraged by the fresh kill. Their calls filled the air like a group of terrible birds as they used the buildings for cover. Flashes of gray could be seen darting from structure to structure, flanking us, hunting us. Just waiting for another opportunity where one of us fucked up or they got a lucky shot.

Frye gave him a scathing look but said nothing. She helped Imam to his feet and then retrieved Suleiman's light tubes with shaking hands. They were spattered with blood.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered as Imam took them, looking at the glowing lights as if he still couldn't believe what had just happened. Ali, the youngest, held fistfuls of Imam's robes with a deathly grip and fearful eyes. I sincerely hoped he would live to get off this planet, along with Jack. They were both just children and didn't deserve to be in the midst of such devastation.

Riddick turned, seemingly having wasted enough time on grieving, and resumed pulling the cart. Jack looked up at me, tears brimming in her eyes, but then wiped her face on her sleeve and took up her position behind the cart again. If we were in a better situation I would have knocked her on the shoulder with a grin at her bravery, but those monsters were still out there and they were getting braver too. Jack was another obvious target for them as she was still bleeding and fearful. Both scents hung around her like perfume and I knew the monsters were following it like a signal. Shifting my position slightly, I made sure that if a creature tried to attack her it would have to go through me first, and peered into the darkness with narrowed eyes through the rain.

Scarier MonstersWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu