Forgotten Past: Chapter Ten-Pieces of the Past
“We found her!” Steve came rushing into the central control room, holding
a sheet of paper in his hand.
Reed swung around and stared at him. “You found Creed?” he questioned
sharply.
Steve nodded. “Yeah. She’s in New Orleans, Louisiana, Earth. No one knows
how she got there, but one of our guys spotted her. And you’re not going to
believe who else he found.”
Reed waited for Steve to continue. “Well?” he barked impatiently when Steve
didn’t continue.
Steve jumped. “Oh, right. Richard B. Riddick. The Company screwed that guy
over big time. If we could get him on our team, and Creed, too, we’d be set to
*really* do some damage!” Steve was practically ready to explode with
enthusiasm.
Reed stepped forward, grinning at the younger man. He was only about eighteen
and eager to do damage to the Company after they blew up the mining colony
he’d lived at with his family. “You’ve done good, Steve. I’m proud of
you.”
A wide grin broke out over Steve’s face and he stuffed the sheet of paper into
Reed’s hand before taking off in the direction of the cafeteria to tell the
rest of the crew.
Reed’s division of resistance fighters included people from all walks of life.
Muslims sick of praying and finally wanting to make something happen themselves.
Rangers sick of taking crap from the Company. Minors who had lost family, and a
number of other sorts. They had honest money makers to pirates to cons. There
was always room for more, as long as they wanted to kick Company ass.
Division Ahsatan now had the pilot they needed. And if they could get Creed to
talk some of her crew into helping, they’d have the best group of pilots in
the known universe. Riddick would help, too. The Company obviously had it in for
him and he for it.
The man was known for his intelligence and lethal skills. He could be a major
asset to Ahsatan.
Reed stalked over to the star charts and looked up the coordinates to Earth, and
more importantly, New Orleans. When a coarse was charted with his pilots, Reed
got ready to give orders. He headed for the announcement board and addressed the
whole complex via intercom.
“All right, people,” he began. “We’ve found Creed Xander and now we
gonna find her. Since this is a full scale operation, we’re taking all
volunteers. I’ll understand if you don’t want to go on this mission, because
we have to be in cryo-sleep for three weeks and take a main trade rout to get
from here to Earth. If you’re planning on coming on this mission, pack
accordingly and meet me in the forum at 0500 hours tomorrow morning. You’ll
find direction on your sub screens in your rooms. That is all, and thank you.”
Reed turned off the intercom and sat down hard in a padded chair.
Reed’s main advisor clapped him on the shoulder. “The resistance will win,
Reed. It has to.”
Reed nodded and stared out the window at Mars’ red landscape and the series of
buildings on the surface. “I hope you’re right, Mark. I really do.”
~~~
Riddick felt like he couldn’t breathe. The blood drained from his face and he
felt weak all over, like his muscles had turned to wet noodles. Carolyn knelt in
the dirt, having fallen to her knees, staring up at him.
“Hey! Who the hell are you?” Riddick snapped to when the man with Carolyn
grabbed his arm and pulled Riddick around to face him.
“Tremonti,” he managed, still staring at Carolyn, who looked shocked and
speechless.
“Tremonti? How the hell do you know Creed? And why’d you call her
Carolyn?” Austin demanded. He was beginning to feel worried. When Riddick
didn’t look like he was going to talk, he dropped to his knees beside Creed
and clasped her shoulders. “Creed? Creed, honey, are you okay?”
Creed blinked at Austin from behind her goggles. “Austin?” she choked. “I
know him, I think.” She looked up at Riddick. “Tremonti? No, that’s not
your name. Who are you?”
Riddick didn’t know what was going on. Carolyn was dead, or at least he’d
thought so. He’d thought she was dead for three long years. She looked
different. No older, but different. Her hair was long and braided and she wore
welding goggles, like his own. Leather cloves hung out one hip pocket and he
wondered if she was a welder at the site. What was she doing at the site?
Everything was a mess in his head and he stumbled back away from the two people
to try and clear his head.
“Don’t you know me?” he asked her.
Creed shook her head. He’d called her Carolyn, and it was familiar, but it
still didn’t make sense in her head. “I don’t understand, who are you?”
she asked again.
Riddick shook his head. She didn’t know him? This was madness. “Carolyn? You
know me,” he finally managed to say.
She shook her head. “No. I can’t remember. Carolyn... you keep calling me
that. I’m Creed. Carolyn... I can’t remember!” Creed pushed to her feet
and stumbled against the trailer. “No... I have.. I have to... I gotta go.”
Creed shoved away from the trailer and pushed between a stunned Riddick and
confused Austin.
What was going on? She demanded the answers from her fogged memory and got
nothing but blurred images and jumbled voices. The man, Tremonti, was so
familiar, but she didn’t understand why. And her name, was it Carolyn or
Creed? Who was she? Carolyn ran for all she was worth, pushing herself. Her
boots thudded on the concrete sidewalks and then the cobblestone as she rushed
through the French Quarter towards the shelter. It was her sanctuary.
People stood in her path and she slammed into them, often knocking them and
herself over. Then she’d stumble back to her feet, deaf to the curses and
cries echoing behind her.
Her chest burned and her legs throbbed, but still she ran until she smashed into
the heavy wooden doors of the shelter. The old wood creaked from the abuse and
she pushed open the right door and stepped inside the air-conditioned depths. A
few people were eating lunch there and she passed them, ignoring their curious
looks and rushing up the stairs. When she got in her room she tore off the dark
goggles and threw them to the floor.
Carolyn’s face felt wet and she reached up and touched her face. Tears. Why
was she crying? Silver eyes, rain, her voice, holding some heavy weight against
her, and stumbling through the dark. Those monsters from her nightmares.
She fell onto the bed, sobs racking her frame as she rocked herself back and
forth, arms wrapped around herself as if to hold herself in. She felt like
she’d explode into a million tiny pieces and this was the only way she could
hold herself together.
Carolyn squeezed her eyes shut and continued to rock back and forth on the bed.
Faces swam behind her eyelids and she tried to focus on them. One was the man
from the construction site. It grinned at her wickedly, then it changed. Anguish
contorted his rugged features and rain ran down his face and into his glowing
silver eyes. Shined eyes. Dangerous eyes. Beautiful eyes.
Carolyn’s eyes snapped open. He was who she’d been looking for, and she
couldn’t remember his name. It wasn’t Tremonti. And nothing fit yet. It was
still a blur. It seemed like something had happened and she’d forgotten so
much. It didn’t make sense. Why couldn’t she put the pieces together? At
least she remembered one person who might know who she was. Maybe now she could
get some answers. Maybe now she could figure out who she really was.
~~~
Riddick stared after Carolyn. She didn’t remember him and now she’d left
him, again. But she wasn’t dead. That meant something, that meant that maybe
he... he didn’t know, but it meant something and he was going to find out
what, but first, he had to find Carolyn.
“Where’d she go?” he demanded of the man she’d called Austin.
The man blinked at him, still dazed, then frowned. “Why the hell should I tell
you? She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you, otherwise she wouldn’t have
taken off like that.”
A dangerous air came over him and Austin suddenly felt that this wasn’t a man
he’d like to mess with. “Where did she go?” Riddick repeated in a low
voice.
“The shelter house at the north edge of the French Quarter. You can’t miss
it. Biggest brick building there,” Austin answered quickly.
Riddick rushed off in Carolyn’s direction. The edge of the quarter was three
miles away and Riddick was sure Carolyn had run the entire way.
People were picking themselves off the sidewalks as he ran past, probably having
been knocked over when Carolyn bowled on by.
When he arrived at the shelter the wooden green doors were tightly closed and he
jogged up the worn steps to push the door open. It creaked slightly on its
hinges and a few curious faces turned to him.
Riddick bared his teeth in a feral grin and they looked away quickly. He stepped
up to a man eating a sandwich. “I’m looking for a blonde woman,” he
growled.
The man shrugged and gestured to the three women in the room, all blonde.
“No,” Riddick growled. “She’s got a long blonde braid, gray pants,
welding goggles. She just came in.”
The man pointed to the stairs. “She went up there. I’d watch out though,
Creed’s a pirate with amnesia. Not the sort to mess with.”
Riddick froze. “What do you mean, she’s got amnesia?” he demanded.
“Sly found her. Said she lost her memory. And everyone knows who Creed Xander
is. Listen, mister, Creed ran up those stairs in a mighty big hurry. You want
answers? Talk to her,” and the man turned back to his lunch.
Riddick cursed under his breath and rushed up the stairs, throwing open doors as
he went. The last door was at the end and he grabbed the knob and threw it open
as well. It slammed into the wall and he stepped inside to find Carolyn sitting
on the edge of the bed, sobbing.
“Carolyn?” he questioned, stepping in front of her.
Carolyn looked up. It was Riddick. He took in a sharp breath when he saw her
eyes, glowing silver in the darkened room. “I knew Tremonti was the wrong
name,” she murmured. “Riddick.”
***
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