She felt sore. Her head hurt and she groaned as she pulled herself up. Sitting up, she surveyed the damage. The door was gone. It now lay in pieces around the room, Imam was beside her helping her up and praising his god again. Riddick was crouching, rolling the dust between his fingers where the men who seemed to have blasted their way into their room and run with their tails between their legs once were. She smirked, teach them to mess with us.
"Soo, guessin' the mercs catched up ?" hoping her attempt at seeming unfazed would pass as she began to heave herself back up. Must learn not to get thrown into the ceiling.
Tasting the dust on his fingers. "Not mercs, military grade equipment, which means,"
"Imperialists" added Imam, whose eyes turned to the door from which the men fled from.
"Now, why would the big leagues be coming after a convict like me I wonder" Rubbing the dust off his hands, he picked up the blade Jack had plunged in the man's arm before he ripped it out taking with it a cascade of blood that spread over the walls, and handed it back to her. Imam frowned, his eyes watching Jack return the blade to her belt under her shirt. She grinned at his disapproval.
"Maybe we should consider leaving sooner Mr Riddick? Rather than tempt fate and make their acquaintance again."
"I thought God was your religion holy man not Fate" Riddick jeered as they left the bombshell of a room, slipping out of the back alleyway, rather than facing the growing throng of people and sirens beginning to draw close to the motel's reception.
"Sometimes they are one, Mr Riddick."
My apologies for such a long wait, and not the best return. Still not quite sure what I'm wanting to do with this story just yet just seeing what takes off. Please review as it is always greatly appreciated.