Johns kept his word and left the killer alone after that brief trip into Hell. It killed him to know that Riddick had come away from that planet a hero. When Riddick told the girl what Johns had wanted to do, that was the moment when Johns figured out why Riddick had let him live -to humiliate him. Johns left the emergency shuttle without a backwards glance. Something had to change. No way was he going to ever find himself in that kind of situation again.

He searched for and found an unlicensed doctor willing to barter in exchange for removing the shiv. One ex-boyfriend located and turned in to the authorities for tax fraud, and Johns went under the knife. Within a week the pain was gone.

Another couple of months of physical therapy and steady exercise, and he was back on his feet for good. Kicking the morphine proved a little harder to accomplish, but just as before, Riddick provided the incentive to go sober.

As soon as Johns laid eyes on Riddick, he knew he'd been caught napping. He had never expected the killer to pursue him. They had made a deal, and Johns and stuck to it. Riddick's decision to resume his previous activies, thereby alerting the authorities to his continued existence was his fault, and his alone. Johns had had a hell of a time explaing it to the authorities. But he had resolutely said no when they asked him to find Riddick again. He briefly reconsidered, now that Riddick was right there, but he was unarmed, and didn't feel like taking another beating. He looked Riddick dead in the eye and walked around the man.

The hairs on his neck rose once he had passed Riddick. Every nerve in his body tightened in anticipation. Riddick was following him. Great. Just great. He stopped at a deserted intersection and waited for Riddick to catch up. Riddick didn't oblige him. No way he was leading Riddick back to his own residence, and that was on the off chance that the killer didn't already know where it was. No telling how long Riddick had been watching him. Johns exhaled a breath and kept walking. He was tired and needed to lie down. After a bit, he ran into a block party, full of people. Threading his way through, he took the opportunity to increase the distance between himself and his pursuer. At the very least, it would give him time to get back to his tiny apartment and prepare himself for Riddick's arrival.

Johns wondered if this was what it felt like to be pursued. Of course, most criminals didn't want to get caught. But to be pursued by a confessed murderer was something else. When he arrived in his apartment, he threw off his jacket and went straight to the closet. Only to find his shotgun wasn't there. He didn't bother looking for it. The way he saw it he had two choices. He could sit and wait, or he could run. Fuck it, he would wait.

He turned away from the closet intent on retreiving his jacket from the floor only to find himself face to face with the man himself. He didn't flinch. He allowed himself to relax, and loosened his muscles. He didn't know how he was going to do it, but he was going to walk out of that apartment.

"No," was all he said.

Riddick didn't immediately respond. When he did, Johns was ready. Both men ended up in the wall, the plaster crumbling from the weight of both of thier bodies being slung into it. Johns recovered first, raining punches down on Riddick's face and head as fast as his muscles would allow. Riddick was bleeding and a bit dazed, but one right cross sent Johns reeling. He caught himself before he fell, but Riddick was on him so fast he only had time to hang on when Riddick picked him up and body slammed him onto the bed behind him. The bed collapsed under their weight, but Johns managed to plant his knee in Riddick's crotch and use the coils in the mattress as a springboard to hurl Riddick backwards to the other side of the room.

Johns was surprised to find himself sailing through the air. The room spun end over end until it abruptly stopped when Riddick slammed through a table and Johns landed on top of him. Johns grabbed one of the broken table legs and started pounding Riddick with it. Riddick deflected most of the blows, and managed to grab hold of Johns' arm and give it a good tug.

Johns' hollered -Riddick had just dislocated his shoulder. Johns stood up and staggered back from Riddick, holding his arm. Riddick rolled up from the floor and dusted himself off. Johns was gratified to see that Riddick was just as black and blue as he was. But he knew better than to think he had won -one more blow from Riddick, and the fat lady would start singing.

Riddick advanced again, Johns dodged the brunt of the impact, bouncing off Riddick into another wall. Johns swung on Riddick as he turned for another attack, catching him in the jaw. The back of Riddick's fist snapped Johns's head back into the wall. He followed it up with an elbow to Johns' temple. Just before Johns' faded out, Riddick spoke:

"Yes."

When Johns came to, he was too shocked to do anything. He was naked, and he was pinned to the mattress. At first, he thought he was being raped, but then Riddick changed his angle and discomfort turned into bone rattling pleasure. Johns wasn't sure what this was and he didn't have the chance to figure it out, because Riddick came and then the world went black.

The next time John woke up, everything hurt. His head throbbed, his ass was sore, and his shoulder was still dislocated. His shotgun lay just inches from his fingers. Glancing at the dresser, he could see the open box of shotgun shells, with several shells missing: Riddick had evidently disposed of the morphine. Johns slowly rolled off of the bed and staggered to the wall. He held his arm and place, and after a deep breath, slammed himself against the door jamb. He sank to the floor as crazy hot, searing pain exploded through his torso with the relocation of his shoulder. He was sweating by the time he hit the floor. His vision blurred from the tears that threatened to fall. After a long moment, he got up and grabbed the clothes that Riddick had casually thrown all over the room. He got dressed and loaded the gun. It was time to leave.

Everything that had previously transpired between him and Riddick had been nothing more than a professional bounty hunter pitted against a professional psycho. Nothing more. The incident on the planet had pissed Johns off, but this left him in a cold fury.

Riddick had made it personal.

TBC

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