By the time Johns had been discharged from the military, he had been glad to leave. He swore to himself he would never take orders from anyone else again. Upon his return to the civilian world, he had been faced with a dilemma; how to make a living. He saw a wanted poster while waiting in line at the veterans Administration, and the idea clicked. Siz months later, he was a certified bounty hunter. Within two years, word was out: Johns could find anybody and bring them in alive.

Boredom was inevitable. Most fugitives were just plain stupid. If they didn't hide with ma, then it was with a sibling, girlfriend, or fellow criminals. Bottom line, they always went home. The money was good, but there was no challenge in it. It wasn't long before Johns felt a nagging sense of dissatisfaction. Deep down, he knew the grwoing emptiness inside of him wasn't solely a symptom of professional boredom. But since he didn't know how to fix his life, he focused on improving his career.

That's where Riddick had first come into the picture.

Richard B. Riddick was the one man no one had been able to catch. He represented just the kind of challenge Johns was looking for. It took him the better part of a year to apprehend Riddick, and when he did, it was the catch of the century. Johns had done what some had called the impossible. Despite the spinal injury, Johns had felt more alive than he had in a long time.

The exhilaration didn't last. Unwilling to chance paralyzing Johns by removing the shard, every doctor he had been to chose instead to prescribe heavy dosages of morphine, and in some cases, heroine. Unable to consistently function, it wasn't long before Johns' found himself out of money and out of favors. In the end, he resorted to taking what he needed from whoever was unlucky enough to be in his path. Rumors of his fall from grace preceded him to his every destination.

By the time Riddick had escaped from SLAM a second time, Johns didn't think twice about accepting the case. He had pissed off too many people, and it was taking every trick he knew to stay two steps ahead of them. Plus, he desperately needed the money. With it he could lay in a massive supply of morphine, and see more doctors. And hide.

When he apprehended Riddick that second time there was no elation. Johns could only bring himself to look forward to the cryosleep, where he would be free of the pain, the addiction and the fear. Then the ship crashed and everything went to hell.

The pain in Johns' back, exacerbated by the impact was nearly excruciating. It took everything in him to subdue Riddick when he found him. Problem was he didn't have the strength or the inclination to watch Riddick every minute. Circumstance worked in his favor. They needed Riddick's help. Johns' wasn't too keen on the idea, but with everyone watching Riddick, it took most of the pressure off of Johns.

Johns had never really considered himself a hero. He took criminals off the street for the money, not because it was for the common good. He wasn't a cop, and had never wanted to be one. He simply made a profit from doing what the police didn't have the resources to do themselves.

When darkness fell, and the creatures had them surrounded on all sides, Johns did something he had never done in his life; he panicked. The pain and morphine superseded his own better judgement. Hell, he wasn't in the military anymore, he didn't really owe these people anything. He wasn't the pilot that nearly killed them all in the first place. He didn't see the problem in using the girl as bait. Unable to bring himself to actually sentence an innocent to death, it didn't occur to Johns that Riddick would object to the idea.

He couldn't have believed what was going to happen if someone had come from the future and told him about it.

In the darkness, Johns fought at a distinct disadvantage. He couldn't half see, he had fresh wounds, his spine was throbbing, he was dehydrated, and on top of all that, he was in withdrawal. The third time he hit the ground, he could barely push himself up. Riddick pinned him down with a foot to his chest. At that moment, Johns knew it was over. He couldn't help feeling relieved. He didn't bat an eye when Riddick sank to his haunches. The pressure on his chest was intense, but it was almost over.

"I don't want to kill you." Riddick said.

"You cannot be serious." Johns blurted, stunned at Riddick's announcement. Riddick smiled and ruffled Johns' hair.

"You barely put up a fight. And where's the fun in that?"

"Since when do you need your prey to fight back?" Johns asked.

"Now that was low Johns, but I'm still not gonna kill ya. Not here, anyway. You go out like this, you're just another body in the dirt. And on this rock, with those things flyin' around, there won't even be a corpse." Riddick explained, as if that clarified matters. Riddick stood up and removed his foot from Johns' chest and extended a hand. Johns lay there for a moment staring at Riddick, then he raised his arm and let Riddick help him up.

"I still don't understand why you're doing this." He said as Riddick retrieved the flare and the shotgun. Riddick handed him the shotgun and winked at him.

"I have my reasons."

Go on to Part 5

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