Chapter Nineteen

Casteel worked throughout the night, typing on her comp-pad and retrieving data from the net while Riddick looked on, staring impassively over her shoulder. By morning, she had a semblance of a plan that Riddick hadn't found a fault with and by sunrise, they were ready to run with it. As a team.

With a loud whack she swatted the comp shut and stretched tired, overused muscles. Sleep would have been a Godsend, but it was one of those things that she relegated to the bottom of her To Do list - again. In its place was a field trip that took them both into the heart of the K3 underground - the markets - and back out again, ending on a visit with Jack.

Maybe while she was there she would take Dr Haspid up on his offer of a check up. Her body ached, damn stomach kept cramping and there was that awful bruise on her face. She looked like hell and moved like she was wading through water. This, she decided, was not a Good Thing. After all, if her body wasn't in full working order, it would be all too easy for Riddick or Len to X her out-

"You up for this?" Riddick asked, sitting down opposite her, watching with that damned expressionless expression she had seen too much in the past few hours.

Casteel gave him the Look. "I could ask you the same question..." There was a pause while she finished a rather painful pose. "...but I won't."

Standing, she grabbed her comp and headed for her room.

"We need to get going if were going to start looking into that eyeball. By the time we get back, we might have some replies on that search I ran on Len's other pursuits." She thought for a moment. "In fact, I'm sure something will come up. Len never does anything on impulse. He always has a plan."

Casteel arrived at the market district one hour after sunrise. Already the area was teeming with people browsing, wandering, shouting and shopping.

Like many planets of this size, the markets were the center of activity, attracting massive crowds from every class and culture. Even the gaming districts were hard pressed to attract such numbers.

Here, amongst the colourful stall and shops, anything could be bought if the price was right. Food, clothing, pets, art, sex, even people, bought and sold under the eye of the law. Within this district, anything was legal. The law was well paid for their silence.

This made it the perfect place to deal items of a more risque nature - those sought after by niche markets. Like the market for human body parts.

This was their first port of call. Hopefully their last.

Armed only with a handful of knives Casteel crossed into the market, scanning the crowd for Riddick as she moved. The man was nowhere in sight, which was exactly how it should be. A pleasant surprise, one that brought a small smile to her face - he was actually doing what he was told.

Somewhere within this mob, he was watching her back. She would look for their eye dealer and he would scout for Len. A simple plan, one they both agreed could work. That was, of course, if Len showed up. If he didn't... well, she really wished she were better armed for that second scenario.

Running a hand over her thigh, she felt the reassuring presence of her four-inch special - a stainless steel, razor edged blade that tapered into a lethal-looking hook. On perhaps the most boring assignment she'd ever had the displeasure of accepting, she'd named it Alf and he was the only weapon she carried now that could inflict any real damage.

That fact made her nervous. Seven blades, five for throwing, one for cutwork and one for murder. No gauges, an SRM toying with her and a convicted murderer watching her back.

It was enough to make even the most seasoned professional shiver. Which she promptly did. Spinning around Casteel looked for the source of her sudden discomfort. Someone was watching her. She could feel it.

Riddick, it had to be Riddick. She could see no one, no threat, no shivs, gauges, rocket launchers, snipers - not a thing.

Dismissing it as nothing more than her imagination, she berated herself with a quiet whisper. "Stupid girl. Your imagination's getting away on you. Better go catch it before it bites you on the ass."

Turning, she continued on, the shiver down her spine growing more pronounced before it exploded into a blinding pain that raced through every nerve in her body.

Gasping Casteel fell to the ground, Alf held in her limp hand. Twisting around, she saw a blood stained shiv zeroing in on her neck.

Riddick watched Casteel spin around, her every muscle taut in anticipation of a confrontation. His eyes followed her movements, but he could see no cause for her sudden about face. From his vantage point on top of a crate, half a click away, he had a view of the entire market. He saw nothing. Nevertheless, he fingered his shiv as he tracked her movements.

It was after she began walking again that Riddick saw the problem and a sick feeling settled into his stomach.

Casteel had a very determined tail and Riddick knew he could not reach her before her pursuer did.

"Fuck."

Jumping from his perch, he shoved people to the ground as he sprinted towards Casteel.

Casteel blocked the blade with her forearm, biting through her lip to stop her instinctive scream as metal sliced through muscle and skidded across bone. Her free arm swung and struck her attacker in the knee, the force of the blow giving a satisfying thwack upon connecting.

A pained curse, uttered in an unfamiliar voice revealed that her attacker was not Riddick. An unknown. She hated unknowns, especially ones that tried to kill her.

The blade came at her again, guided by a strong arm intent on inflicting fatal damage.

Gripping Alf in her bloody palm, she drove him towards the calf of the man before her. The blade sank to its small hilt and an anguished scream exploded across the market as the other knife clattered as it hit the pavement.

Several sharp twists of the hooked blade brought her attacker to the ground. One final twist ensured that the blade could not be removed without surgery. Desperate blue eyes bore into her own as she fumbled for another blade. Seizing it, she swept it across his chest, cutting through fabric and leaving a thin trail of blood in its wake.

Her second attempt was cut short when he grabbed her bloodied arm and squeezed it hard. Screaming in agony, she dropped her knife. Drawing on her last reserves, she made one last desperate attempt to retrieve another blade.

Her move was anticipated though and before she could slide her hand past her knee, he was on top of her, pinning her to the bitumen.

A fist connected with her temple and for several frightening moments the world faded to grey and bile rose in her throat. Colour seeped back into her vision enough for her see one of her own blades heading straight for her heart.

Ignoring the fire in her back, she kicked at him, but the only response she got from her legs was a feeble spasm in her ankle.

"Fuck."

This was it then. This was the moment when she would meet her maker. Well, they were going to have a long conversation. Of all the deaths she had envisioned, this was not one of them. She was not afraid of death, but to be killed by a thug... it was offensive - and embarrassing.

Sunlight glinted off the blade as it fell. Casteel found the eyes of her attacker and met them with a cold stare. Her body tensed but the blade didn't make it through the cloth of her shirt and the weight on her chest disappeared without explanation.

That's right, she thought as sleep descended on her, don't kill me in one foul stroke. Just leave me here to die slowly and painfully. I'll just quietly bleed to death on the pavement.

Large hands pulled her upright, but there was no fight left in her wrecked body.

A deep insistent voice was calling to her, commanding her to listen, but it was in her nature to be contrary and she wasn't about to change now that he killer was holding her in his arms and shaking her.

What the-

Her eyes flew open. Riddick peered down at her, his arms holding her up.

"Casteel. Stay awake -" he said, his voice laced with urgency, "- got to get you to a hospital."

"No," she shook her head and immediately wished she hadn't as the edges of her vision blurred. "No hospital."

"You're losing a lot of blood -"

"No h-hospital."

Riddick cursed. He stood up and swung her up into his arms. "This is not up for debate."

She struggled against him. Damn him, following orders only when they pleased him. He was perfectly happy to hide in the crowd earlier, but now... Nothing mattered except for getting where she needed to go- and that wasn't a hospital.

"'s okay. Don' need a hospital."

Riddick ignored her and began pushing his way through the crowd that had gathered around to watch the fight.

"Always have a contingency plan," she slurred, "that's what Comte taught me and I always have." She looked up at him and after a moment, his face came into focus.

He was glaring straight ahead, well she thought he was glaring, he was wearing those damn swimming goggle-things. It would be nice to go swimming, she thought. Somewhere hot - naturally so, not one of those climate-controlled planets like Hevari. Ugh, she hated Hevari - the only good way to see it was with your eyes shut-

"Casteel!"

She jerked in his arms, her eyes opening instantly.

"Wha-?"

"Stay awake." Riddick commanded, then to himself, he added, "where's the nearest hospital?"

He hailed a passing cab.

"No!" Casteel began to struggle in earnest. "Gotta go to J-J-Jenkins. 's a nursing home. Paid a lot of money to have a surgeon emp- employed when I got here. Gotta go to Jenkins."

"Where?"

A taxi pulled up to the curb and Riddick placed her on the back seat before joining her.

"East-side." She managed, before the world went black.

Riddick looked down at Casteel, swearing when he found her unconscious again. He was soaked with her blood and the cab seat was darkening to a deep red as her life slowly trickled away.

No amount of shaking seemed to wake her this time and Riddick tried to control the panic that was welling within him. His one link to Jack was dying. This could not happen; he would not allow it.

Applying more pressure to the wound on her back, he made a solemn vow to kill Len, slowly. One cut for each of his victims. And if Casteel died and he was cut off from Jack completely...

He was going to inflict a punishment so cruel that even the worst offender at Slam wouldn't deserve it.