Into a rising wind, and with heavy hearts at the loss of Paris, the survivors trudged on.

Jack had given Iman her hand-light to wear around his neck, and she now held Paris’ umbrella torch, refueled and coughing fireballs at regular intervals. Kaylee had been traveling in the back with River until Fry’s cutting torch sputtered and died. The blonde had promptly thrown it away into the darkness and taken the umbrella torch from Jack, forcing Kaylee to leave River and go stand next to Jack to keep the boy and the right side of the sled covered in light.

“Bottle count.” Fry ordered when she returned to the front.

“Four fulls, one half.” Jack counted quickly before looking up at Kaylee nervously. “That means we’re halfway there?”

Kaylee wished that she could tell Jack what he needed to hear, but she didn’t want to lie to him either. “Probably.”

She looked up with a sigh. Jack had asked the question none of them wanted to ask. They’d all been content following the light on Riddick’s back, but the man hadn’t spoken to them after resuming their journey, and Kaylee couldn’t help but feel that they’d been walking forever.

“Can we pick up the pace?” Fry ordered in an impatient voice, obviously worried that they’d run out of light before they reached the settlement and the skiff.

“If you think you can do better,” Johns growled, letting the sentence dangle. He abruptly slapped an arm across Iman’s chest, gaze wide and down on the sand before him.

Kaylee looked down at her feet, wondering if there was something she’d missed.

The sound of the shotgun ratcheting caused her gaze to jerk back up in time to see Johns out of his chains, moving forwards, and jamming the nose of the shotgun into the back of Riddick’s neck.

The mechanic’s eyes opened in shock. What was Johns doing?

“We aren’t completely stupid.” Johns growled in a dangerous voice that could have rivaled Riddick’s.

Everyone halted, frozen, eyes wide, watching the confrontation and wondering what had happened to trigger it.

“Stay in