How the hell had that not killed her? Three bullets, right to the chest! But as he watched… Sonofabitch, the bullet holes were sealing themselves up. Healing themselves! And Sumner… He was shaking, his face changing before Sheppard’s eyes, his body aging as the creature sucked the goddamn life out of him! Sickened, utterly freaked-out, Sheppard took aim again. This time she’d die, this time—
Sumner looked up with his rheumy, old-man’s eyes and stared right at Sheppard. Not like this, his eyes begged. Don’t let me die like this…
Understanding, but shaken to the core, Sheppard moved the sights of his weapon away from the Wraith and onto Sumner. I’m going to kill a man…I’m killing one of my own. But there was no choice. He squeezed off a single shot and watched the bullet scorch through the Wraith’s hand where it lay buried in Sumner’s chest.
With a screech, the Wraith pulled her hand away and Sumner slumped forward. Dead. He looked about ninety, his whole life drained by the monster who stood over him nursing her blackened talons. And suddenly her empty eyes were fixed on Sheppard. Even from this distance he could sense her power and her rage as she shrieked again and—
Something sharp and electrical jabbed hard into his back. A flash flood of heat scorched through his mind, sending him spiraling down into darkness. All that was left were shadows and through them he heard the Wraith’s outraged hiss, like an angry snake. “Bring him.”
Then everything went black.
Chapter Nine
The Major had said twenty minutes. Ten minutes in, ten out. Ford glanced at his watch and cursed silently. Fifteen minutes already; if Sheppard wasn’t on his way back, he wouldn’t make it in time. If he was on his way back, then why hadn’t he reported in?
He shifted nervously where he crouched next to the bars of the holding pen. Inside he saw the alien woman, Teyla, watching him with serious eyes. He had a feeling she knew exactly what he was thinking, and in a low voice he confided, “We’re coming up on fifteen minutes. I thought we’d get a signal by now.”
“Go,” she said softly, nodding down the corridor.
It was exactly what he wanted to do. And exactly what he couldn’t do. “He’s my superior officer,” he explained quietly. “He gave me a direct order.”
Teyla moved closer to the bars, reaching through and seizing his arm. “He needs your help.”
“I — ”
Her hand tightened on his arm, her dark eyes bright and intense as she fixed him with a long look that spoke directly to his heart. We don’t leave our people behind. He’d heard the Major say that; it was why Sheppard had breached a direct order himself and gone back for three guys in Afghanistan. It had been the right thing to do then, and it was the right thing to do now.
With a nod to Teyla – half thanks and half acknowledgment – Ford rose and silently headed into the gloom of the Wraith fortress.
Consciousness returned with a crash as Sheppard found himself slammed hard against a huge, wooden table. In a surreal moment of utter confusion he saw food, plates, and silverware fly into the air and clatter to the floor behind the massive, grotesque figure of the Wraith warrior that had its hand knotted in the front of Sheppard’s shirt.
He could hardly breathe for the weight of the creature’s hand against his chest, and his head spun so fast from whatever the hell had taken him out that he struggled to focus. But even through his blurred vision he could see that the creature pinning him to the table had no face. It had no damn face!
He recoiled, disgusted, but there was nowhere to go. To his left he heard a soft hiss and turned to see the female Wraith approaching, nursing her wounded hand. It was soaked in sticky, black blood. Her dead gaze drifted to the creature holding him down, and it let go enough for Sheppard to suck in a deep breath. He regretted it the moment the foul Wraith-stench hit his nostrils and he had to repress a gag. Show no weakness, show no weakness…“So,” he managed to scratch out, “how’s the hand feeling?”
Her lips peeled back from her revolting fang-like teeth and she held up her hand for him to see. “Much better,” she taunted.
“Sorry to hear that.”
Astonishingly, as he watched, the bullet hole shrank and healed until her pale green skin was unblemished. She stretched her claws as if she might rip out his heart. But her attention was distracted, and her talons reached instead for the tracking device in his vest pocket. She pulled it out and examined it carefully, then turned her black eyes on him. “How did this come to you?”
“I don’t remember.” And I’ll say more than that over my dead body.
The hand on his chest slammed him back hard against the table, cutting off his air. He choked, fingers pulling uselessly at the iron grip around his throat. The female loomed over him, her face blurring as his vision wavered, her hand lifting high and the glint of something gold on her finger catching his eye. A device, a weapon—
A single shot cracked through the air, puncturing the warrior’s featureless face with a single, oozing black dot. Its grip on Sheppard’s throat loosened, and he turned far enough to see Ford crouched at the entrance. The lieutenant fired again, right on the mark, and this time the Warrior went down.
“Sir, let’s go!” Ford yelled.
Still dizzy and disoriented, Sheppard rolled off the table, yelling into his radio, “Light it up!” He dropped to the floor next to the dead warrior. Its black blood was seeping across the ground, steaming in the damp air, and he scrabbled away from its touch just as a piercing shriek sliced like a knife through his head. The female Wraith was calling for reinforcements, her head thrown back like that of a wolf summoning the hunt.
The ground started to shudder as a dozen explosions detonated around the perimeter of the complex, and Sheppard felt a fierce swell of pride. His people. These were his people. Getting his feet under him, he tried to run, but he wasn’t fast enough. The Wraith woman lifted her hand again, firing an energy blast right at him. The room was quaking, knocking her off balance, and the blast scorched past his ear as he flung himself to the ground. His hand slid in the blood oozing from the dead warrior, but there was no time for revulsion. The Wraith was stalking him, her distorted face now twisted with a hatred stronger than hunger. Her hand lifted again, closing in for the kill.
Desperate, Sheppard scooted backward. Ford was firing again, more Wraith were pressing into the room, but Sheppard had no weapon and the female Wraith was advancing. Her mouth opened like an animal’s maw, and he had nothing to— From the corner of his eye he saw it; the forked weapon of the fallen Wraith warrior. Snatching it up he rammed it into the creature’s gut. She screamed, arching her back, and he pressed home the advantage as she fell to her knees. Sick with repugnance Sheppard rammed the weapon right through her, until her stomach was nothing but a sticky fountain of black blood and she collapsed to the ground. “Okay,” he grated through his disgust, “that has to kill you.”
Letting go of the weapon he sank back, shaky with adrenaline and the after-effects of the Wraith weapon. For a few moments all he could hear was his own rasping breaths and then, slowly, he realized that everything was silent. No more Wraith were coming. Still breathing heavily he turned to Ford, who was staring at the creature at their feet with mingled horror and fascination. “How’d you find me?”
The kid glanced over, attempting a smile. “Tread marks. Standard issue.” So much for Ancient tracking devices… “Sir, let’s go.”
It was a good idea. With effort Sheppard dragged himself to his feet, feeling weaker than he’d ever admit, and stared down at the Wraith. She wasn’t dead yet, even after all that. Blood seeped darkly from her mouth, her black eyes misting grey, but she smiled anyway. “You don’t know what you’ve done,” she hissed. “We are merely the caretakers for those who sleep. When I die, the others will awaken…” Her failing breath was a whisper, a triumphant whisper. “All of them.”
All of them? Her words stirred the hairs at the back of Sheppard’s neck as he retrieved the tracking device that lay d
iscarded on the table.
“What’s she talking about?” Ford asked nervously. “How many are left?”
Sheppard didn’t answer, staring intently at the tracker. All around them he could see white dots blooming, like snow falling on icy ground. Too many to distinguish one from the other. All over, all around. They were surrounded! He did a swift three-sixty, expecting to see Wraith pouring in from all sides, but there was nothing. Only a deep rumble that seemed to be coming from the very depths of the fortress. As if the thing were stirring, coming back to life.
He was breathing fast, heart pumping wildly and clearing his head. He needed a weapon, he needed to find his people and get the hell out. But where were the enemy, where the hell were the enemy? He scanned the room again. Nothing. Or… The soft sound came from far above. Glancing up, he froze.
Above him the honeycomb dome was coming to life. Hundreds, thousands, of individual cells glowed with a sickly orange light, and inside them… Oh God! He started back in horror, but couldn’t look away. Inside each cell something writhed, like a maggot struggling to life. Like a thousand maggots. Suddenly an arm stabbed through the side of one of the leathery cells, a Wraith arm, and the entire room filled with a sickening, hungering hiss.
Holy crap, what have we done?
A noise from behind made him jerk around. The fallen Warriors were sitting up, lumbering to their feet like the undead. Ford loosed a volley and put them down again, but for how long?
“Sir!” Ford yelled. “We need to leave!”
He wasn’t gonna argue with that. With one final glance at the waking nest of Wraith, Sheppard began to run, Ford close on his heels. The corridors were still dark, despite the ominous rumbling, and the further away from the nest, or the hive, the quieter it became. All he could hear was the beat of their running feet and the rasp of his breathing, but he knew they were right behind them. They had to be. He risked a quick glance at the tracking device, and saw that he and Ford were alone for the moment. For now. That was good, they could— Suddenly a small group of bandits appeared on the screen, dead ahead.
“Hold up!” he hissed to Ford, diving for a defensive position. Ford hunkered down on the opposite side of the corridor. Perhaps if they could take the Wraith by surprise…
Suddenly the air was filled with distant shrieking, just like the noise the female Wraith had made, only this time it was a discordant choir of voices. Thousands of voices. They were coming. They were coming for him and his team. Ahead he could hear footsteps approaching and signaled the countdown to Ford. Three, two, one. Go!
As one they turned out into the corridor, ready to fire and— Teyla stood before him, flanked by her people and two security officers, all frozen with shock.
Thank God…
Despite the situation Teyla seemed more composed than either of Sheppard or Ford, and was the first to speak. “Colonel Sumner? Toran?”
He shook his head. “No.”
She absorbed the news without surprise or comment – maybe she’d known all along that his rescue attempt would be futile – and together they headed out. It felt like running ahead of the flood. You can’t see the water coming, but you can hear it, and you know it’s right there and if you let it overtake you, you’re dead. The corridors were empty, but the deep rumbling and muffled screeching didn’t abate for a second. The Wraith were coming.
At last Sheppard broke from the damp corridors and into the chill air of the planet. The faint scent of pine and organic decay was an overwhelming relief as he led them all slipping and sliding down the rocks they’d climbed only a few hours ago. Over the tops of the trees he could see a giant red sun sinking behind the mountain fortress, and— Oh crap.
His radio squawked. “Major!” It was Stackhouse, back at the ship, and he sounded edgy. “The Jumper is secure for the moment, but we have a big problem.”
“I know.” Sheppard could see it for himself, he could see the Wraith ships pouring out of the fortress on all sides – black darts against the blood-red sunset, looking for a kill. “We’re on our way.”
He didn’t have to issue any orders, they all just hightailed it through the trees as fast as possible. But he knew it wouldn’t be fast enough because the Wraith weren’t human – they were faster, stronger, more deadly. They’d be on his team before they got anywhere near the Jumper. He needed a line of defense. “Ford!” he barked. “Take our six.” It felt like giving the kid a suicide mission, but he had no choice. “I’ll get these people to the Jumper.” He was the only one who could fly it.
The lieutenant didn’t hesitate. “Be right behind you!”
Forging ahead, Sheppard sensed Ford fall back. But not just Ford. Out the corner of his eyes, he saw Teyla slow. He almost yelled at her to pick up the pace, but she didn’t have to follow his orders. And she knew what she was doing. She knew the Wraith, which was half the battle. He let her go, let her stay behind to help her own people while he led the rest of them to safety. He hoped.
It was quiet, alone in the trees without the gasps and heavy footfalls of the others. Even the animals seemed to be quiet. No birds, no rustling in the leaves. Maybe they didn’t exist on this planet, or maybe – like him – they sensed something in the air. A creeping, ice-cold danger. Overhead a lone Wraith ship screeched past, but didn’t stop, and it didn’t spot him. Ford tracked it with his weapon, but held his fire. They were escaping, not engaging the enemy.
He sped up, satisfied that they weren’t being— Something flickered, just on the periphery of his vision. With a start, he swung his P90 around and loosed a short burst into the trees. It echoed in the eerie silence. His heart was hammering now, he could hear it pulsing in his ears, obscuring other sounds. Sounds of the enemy. It felt like they were all around, creeping through the trees. Stalking him. Their dead white faces, ravening mouths… His fingers clenched hard around his weapon, itching to sweep the whole area, to flush them out. He spun abruptly, feeling eyes on his back. Nothing. Nothing but trees and shadows.
He was getting disoriented now. Which way had he come? Which way was the Jumper? Damn it. He knew better than this. He knew—
A shadow crossed right in front of his path. Heart leaping into his throat, he emptied half a clip before a hand grabbed the weapon. He yelled, about to ram its butt into the face of the enemy when—
“There is nothing there.” It was Teyla, holding his weapon fast and staring him right in the eye.
Breathing hard, he said, “I saw something in the trees.”
“Only what the Wraith wish you to see. Firing your weapon will reveal our position.” She released her hold on the P90 and turned to leave. “Come on!”
Shaken, barely trusting his own eyes anymore, Ford focused on Teyla’s lithe figure darting through the trees. She was sure and confident of the way, and he simply followed. At times like this, a little local knowledge went a long, long way.
Sheppard barely let himself believe that they’d made it as he dragged the exhausted escapees out of the forest and into the small clearing. The Jumper was right there, Stackhouse and his men deployed all around, fingers twitchy on their weapons. He rose from cover as Sheppard approached, nodding a greeting. But as Sheppard jogged toward the Jumper, he noticed Halling and the others holding back. They were staring at the ship in shock, or was it awe? Either way, they didn’t have time for it. “Go on, get in,” he urged.
They didn’t need asking twice, but as the shattered men and women packed into the small hold of the Jumper, Halling was looking around in sudden concern. “Where’s Teyla?”
Sheppard glanced back the way they’d come. He gave a mental count of five, but there was nothing. It stank like trouble, and he’d be damned if he left anyone behind on this hellish world. He wouldn’t leave a dog behind for the Wraith. He glanced over at Stackhouse – at the street sweeper he was holding – and gestured for the weapon. It felt good in his hands, heavy and powerful. A P90 might not take out the Wraith, but even they couldn’t stand up to this damn thing.
/>
“Everyone on the ship,” he ordered. “Lock it up and wait. I’m not gonna be long.” One way or the other, he’d be back to fly these people out.
Ignoring his fatigue, Sheppard raced back through the trees the way they’d come. He could hear the whine of Wraith ships overhead, but beneath the trees he had some cover and they didn’t spot him. He could see the shadows though, flickering at the edge of his vision. Mindful of Teyla’s warning, he payed no attention to them. Mind games. Just games. He kept moving, his run slowing to a cautious creep the further he got from the Jumper. They couldn’t be too far back, Ford had been covering their six, not on recon. He’d have stayed pretty close. But if there’d been trouble…
A Wraith ship passed low overhead, its engine noise setting the leaves shaking, and suddenly a bright white beam lanced down through the trees. Sheppard’s heart jolted. If it had a target, it could only be Ford and Teyla. Damn it! The image of the maggot-like Wraith, writhing in their cells, filled his head and he lurched into a low run. He refused to let them be taken again – he’d put a bullet in their heads before he let them die like Sumner.
The scoop beam was cutting through the forest, and Sheppard ducked behind a wide trunk as it skimmed past him. He turned, following its trail, just in time to see Teyla dive sideways into Ford and push him out of its path. The ship was looping around for another go as Teyla and Ford struggled to their feet, and the beams were hitting the ground like tracers, heading inexorably toward them. It was over, it was over unless…
Sheppard broke cover, the Street Sweeper aimed right over the heads of his friends. It was a long shot – literally – and the ship was moving fast, but John Sheppard had always had a good eye. He opened up the weapon and kept it open, shells falling all around. Something hit home. Thank God, something hit home. The ship shuddered and banked, and the beam winked out.
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