by Graham, Jo
The jumbled rocks were full of deepening shadows. There was no sound. His eyes searched the rocks, glancing over tumbled stones. Nothing moved.
“Did you see it?” he asked Teyla.
“I saw nothing,” she said. “I moved because you did.” She took a few steps forward, coming up even with him. “What was it?”
John shook his head, squinting. “I don’t know. I saw movement. That’s all.”
“This planet does have life forms,” Dahlia said. “We encountered a few in the process of working on the wreck. Small mammals, about as long as my forearm. They eat the tuberous roots of those gray plants.”
“Perhaps that is what you saw,” Teyla said.
“Maybe.” It could have been. He’d just seen motion. “It might have been one of those prairie dog things.” John lowered his gun. “Ok. Just keep an eye out, people.” It was probably nothing at all.
* * *
Shadows deepened. They followed the canyon, the stream a tiny trickle surfacing sometimes, then disappearing for a while beneath the stones. It was rough going, and John doubted they’d made three miles.
He dropped back a moment to talk to Dahlia Radim. “Do you know where this canyon goes?”
She nodded, sweat rolling down her face in the sultry heat. “It twists around to the north and then widens out into the plateau just north of the wreck.”
“How much distance does that add?” John asked. It would be too much to hope for that the canyon would come out in the right place.
“I do not know in your miles, but four hours’ walk perhaps? We did not come down by the canyon as I said, but cut straight across the plateau above.” Dahlia looked as tired as John felt. He sincerely hoped he didn’t look that tired. There was a twenty hour night coming, and he felt like he could sleep all of it. Still, a four hour walk was probably better than trying to get up eighty feet of cliffs. Going down was one thing, but he didn’t think he’d care to go up himself, with nobody at the top. Rock climbing was really not his thing.
“Ok,” John said. “That works.”
“Are we stopping soon?”
“Yeah.” John glanced at his watch. “In just a few…”
There was the movement again. He swung the gun up, pivoting right and dropping to his knee.
Carson let out a muffled sound, and he heard Teyla move behind them.
Ahead, the rocks were still and quiet. Nothing moved in the crevices of the stones. There was no noise at all, except the harshness of their own breathing.
“One of those mammals?” Teyla asked after a long moment.
“I did not see it,” Dahlia said.
“Probably.” John got up, dusting off his knee. “Let’s go on a little further and then we’ll take a breather. Maybe down there where the canyon widens out a bit and the stream looks like it comes up.”
“Excellent,” Carson said.
John nodded, taking the point again, conscious of Teyla’s eyes on the back of his head. There was no point in saying anything. For a moment, in the shifting shadows, he had thought he saw a man.
* * *
They rested in the shade. The temperature had dropped down into the nineties, which felt good. Water was what he needed. He’d probably sweated out half a gallon. The stream was fairly clear, but he added some water purification tablets and refilled his canteen. You never knew what might be in the water on an uninhabited planet. Strange bacteria would be just the beginning.
Teyla sat down beside him, offering him one of the MREs from her pack, but he waved it away. He was too hot to eat anything that heavy. An energy bar was enough to give him a boost without turning his stomach.
Teyla apparently thought the same thing, for she was nibbling on one as well rather than the heavier rations. Above, the sky was turning purple, dotted with a million stars. Quite literally. They must be looking toward the center of the galaxy, because it was bright as a moon as night fell. She tilted her chin up, as though looking for an errant breeze that wasn’t here. “It is quite beautiful,” she said.
John nodded. “I’ve seen the Milky Way like that on Earth. You can’t see it that way in San Francisco or DC, anywhere you’ve been. There are too many people and too many lights. But it does get that bright.”
“Where?” she asked.
John shifted, ostensibly because the stones beneath him were hard, a chill running up his spine, though his voice was casual. “In clear desert air. I’ve seen it that way in Afghanistan.”
“Ah,” she said, not turning her face to him, her eyes on the sky.
She had been with him on that planet where a Wraith mind control device had gone haywire, the only one of them immune to it because of the Gift, been with him a whole day as he slipped further and further into a hallucination. Afghanistan. He didn’t know entirely what he’d said and what he’d only imagined he’d said. He was afraid to ask. But he’d probably said enough. More than enough.
There wasn’t any more to say, so they sat in silence until it was time to move on, through this world’s slow twilight.
* * *
Carson offered his water bottle to Dahlia Radim, but she shook her head. “I have my own,” she said. “I won’t need yours, Doctor.”
“Carson,” he said. “I think we know one another well enough for that.”
“Carson,” she said, her eyes skimming his face. “Then you should call me Dahlia.”
“I’d be pleased to,” he replied.
Her eyes went past him to where Teyla and Sheppard sat in an identical pose crosslegged on the ground, both of them looking up at the sky without saying a word. “Would he have shot me?” she mused.
“No,” Carson said quickly. “Of course not. Not unless you’d been carrying a hidden bomb or the like.”
“I’m not sure of that,” Dahlia said. “Emmagan said that he was cruel and she was worse.”
Carson blinked. “I wouldn’t say that. Not at all.”
“Probably not.” Dahlia shrugged. “But you’re on their side.”
Carson was still digesting that when Teyla got to her feet with a smooth movement and came toward them.
“Are you ready to walk a little further?” she asked.
Dahlia got to her feet. “Yes.”
“We will go on a little while,” Teyla said. “And then we will rest for a few hours. Carson?”
“I’m game,” Carson said, getting to his feet. Beyond Dahlia, Sheppard had shouldered the heaviest pack and was taking up his weapon. He would go first, of course, and Teyla last. Carson hung back walking beside Teyla, letting Dahlia get ahead. When there was enough room not to be overheard, he leaned toward her. “Teyla, why did you tell Dahlia that Colonel Sheppard was cruel? What in the name of heaven is that about, making out he’s some sadistic bastard?”
Teyla looked at him levelly. “He is the military commander of Atlantis, Carson. It is important that the Genii fear him. Do you think they would do so if I told Dahlia Radim that he is a fluffy bunny?”
Carson huffed. “Well, not a fluffy bunny! But he’s not precisely Vlad the Impaler either!”
Teyla stopped, and he stopped with her. “Michael,” she said.
Carson blanched.
“Yes,” she said with a strange half-smile that did not touch her eyes. “And you and I bear as much taint as anyone for that. We are not harmless, even if we choose to be kind. A lion is a lion, even if you keep it as a pet or call it your friend.”
He swallowed, and she touched his arm gently. “Come now. Let us not fall too far behind. It would be dangerous for us to get lost in the dark.”
“Right.” Carson hurried along the broken ground ahead of her, the starlight bright enough to cast vague shadows on their path.
They had almost caught up to Dahlia Radim. Almost.
There was a blur of movement to Carson’s left, a momentary brief impression of a flying body, but before he could so much as shout something hit him hard, claws scoring across his shoulder as it threw him to the ground,
borne beneath hard muscle and scaly weight, its scream echoing in the night air.
Chapter Ten: Survival
John whirled around as the animal’s scream rent the air, some sort of hunting call meant to strike terror into the hearts of its prey. Dahlia Radim was directly in his line of fire, running toward him as fast as she could, while all he could see behind her was a dark shape tossing around and around on the ground. Crap, he thought, his heart and legs going into overdrive, dashing toward it, trying to get a clear shot around Dahlia. Not much chance of that. Whatever-it-was was rolling around on the ground, trying to savage someone — whoever — it had got. He didn’t have a shot. He didn’t have anything. Opening up right now would be as likely to hit…
Fire lit the night, the bright flash of Teyla’s tracers. Carson. It had Carson.
“Colonel!” Dahlia shouted, and he dodged around her.
He saw what she’d seen an instant later, a second beast on a converging path, springing toward the source of the gunfire. Teyla would never get around in time, even if she heard him shout over the sound of her own shots. John skidded to a halt, dropping to one knee for a steadier shot. Carefully.
A quick burst caught it six feet behind Teyla’s back, just at the beginning of its pounce. She didn’t even jerk around, still trying to get a decent shot at the one that had Carson, trusting him to guard her back. It fell backwards, twitching feebly on the ground.
He pivoted, trying to get a better angle, but all he could see was a tossing blob.
Teyla could see better. A single shot, two. The thing that had Carson scrambled up, a dark shadow against other dark shadows.
John saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. Too late. He swung back but Teyla was directly between him and the creature, coming at her from her right side while she was intent on the other.
“Teyla!”
It hit her full in the shoulder, its weight knocking her down. There was one fraction of a second, one tiny divided moment, as she fell with it on top of her that its head reared up, forelegs extended, a long reptilian head like an alligator, four clawed feet. He wouldn’t have taken the shot if he’d thought about it. It was too close to Teyla. But he didn’t think. He squeezed the trigger in that fraction of a second, not a burst but a single shot.
The thing went over backwards with a gurgling sound. Even as he ran up it ceased twitching, lying silent in the suddenly still night.
“Teyla?”
“I am fine,” she said, already beginning to pull herself up. “Carson…” Her breath caught and she sat back down heavily. “I am fine. See to Carson.”
John kept the gun in hand as he jogged over. One of the creatures was down, dead, the one he’d hit in the head. The others had vanished into the darkness. “Carson?”
The doctor rolled over, pushing himself up on his left arm. “Not fine. I need a dressing.”
Kneeling down beside him, the light on his P90 flashed over Carson. His body armor was ripped and torn, the fabric gaping open to the Kevlar lining below, huge claw marks across the chest. If he hadn’t been wearing the vest his chest would have been ripped open. As it was, there was a deep bleeding gash across his upper right arm, dripping down his sleeve onto the ground.
Carson leaned on his left arm. “That’s lovely,” he said as he saw it in the light. His voice sounded shaky.
“Here.” John fumbled one handed for the field dressing he kept in his left thigh pocket, pulled it out and tore it open. He didn’t dare put the gun down, not with two of those creatures wounded and still around, maybe stalking them again just out of sight.
“That looks bad,” Dahlia Radim said solemnly, coming up behind John.
“Yes, love,” Carson said with a spark of his old fire. “It’s not what I’d call peachy. The bicep’s torn, though it didn’t hit an artery. It’s going to need surgery to line the muscle up and need stitches in the muscle tissue. And I can’t very well perform surgery on my own right arm.”
“Help him with that dressing,” John said, standing up to cover them while Dahlia knelt to help Carson tie the dressing tight around his arm.
“Pressure now,” Carson said. “There. I’m a wee bit lightheaded so you’ll have to keep it on.”
“Teyla?” John called.
“Here.” Her voice sounded strained. She limped out of the darkness, her face tight in the light of his gun.
“What’s the matter?”
“I have hurt my leg.” She grimaced as she made the final two steps to him, not fully putting her left foot down. “That creature knocked me onto the stones. I fell hard on rocks on my left hip.”
“Is it broken?”
“If my hip were broken I would not be standing,” Teyla snapped, which was a measure of pain. It made Carson more determined to act normal than ever, but rendered Teyla sharper.
He put out his arm to steady her, flicking his light over the rocks around them. He didn’t see any of the animals, but they were probably still here. The question was if they were too injured or had decided that the humans bit back too hard, or if they were just circling for another chance.
“Carson?”
“I’m hanging in here,” Carson said. “Dahlia, pull it tighter. You’ve got to hurt me, love. Just go on and do it. Got to stop the bleeding.”
“We need a fire,” Teyla said. “Most reptiles can’t abide it.”
“Nothing to burn,” John said. Bare rock. Some gray cactus things. No brush, no wood, no trees. “Let’s hold on until the bleeding stops, then find a place in the rocks where we’ve got cover.”
She nodded stiffly, lifting the P90 and flashing the light around them. “Perhaps this will do then.”
“It’ll have to.” Two of them, one injured, to cover more seriously injured Carson and Dahlia Radim. Super. If Zelenka were here, he could have repaired the jumper and they could have flown to the crash site. They wouldn’t be in this predicament. But he’d done it again. Shep had done it again, running off half cocked to the rescue without the stuff he needed to make it work…
“How is it, Carson?” Teyla asked, her back to the doctor.
“I expect I’ll live,” Carson said, but there was a tremor in his voice. “The bleeding’s slowing up. I’m a bit lightheaded, but that’s blood loss. Dahlia, be a love and get a pressure bandage out of my kit. Also the antiseptic and the antibiotic gel. When it’s eased a bit more I’m going to take the dressing off and I’ll tell you what to do.”
“How’s your hip?” John asked Teyla in a low voice.
Her lips were pressed in a tight line. “I can stand. Do not distract Carson with it.”
He nodded. “Ok.”
There was a movement among the stones to Teyla’s right, and their tracers crossed as they both opened up on it at once. John had no idea if they hit anything or not, but they certainly scared whatever it was.
“How long is this night?” Teyla asked.
“About sixteen more hours,” John said grimly.
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Dahlia Radim asked behind him. “If those things are reptiles, won’t they slow down when it gets cold? Maybe even sleep? They’ve got to be daytime hunters if they’re cold blooded.”
“Just how cold does it get here at night?” John asked. In the exertion of the fight he hadn’t noticed the temperature had dropped. It was a nice, comfortable seventy five degrees or so now. But the night had just begun.
“I’ve never seen it go more than ten degrees below freezing,” Dahlia said. “And that just before dawn.”
“Super duper,” Carson said in a cheerful tone that sounded a little drunk. He wasn’t kidding about being lightheaded. Not good.
Teyla looked at John. “We must find somewhere to rest,” she said. “We cannot go on like this.”
“Yeah. Rest up for a while, get a meal into Carson and some sleep…” Twenty four hours he’d been up. Six more hours hike to the Ancient Warship. But it wouldn’t take six hours. With Carson having to be helped and Teyla barely able
to walk it would take twice that. That’s the problem, Shep. You think it’s going to take so long to walk out, but once you’ve got a wounded man with you the whole equation changes.
Teyla nodded. “I will cover them if you will find a place.” She lifted her gun, the light flashing over the rocks around them.
“That’s probably fastest.” Heading out alone into the darkness with those creatures wasn’t his idea of fun, but if a giant lizard landed on his back it was probably what he’d deserve. Except that if he took a hit, there’s no way the wounded would get out alone. He’d done that math before, lying behind the rocks, watching three men pass close enough to nearly touch, Charlie Holland immobile behind him. He’d done that math and let them be. But had those minutes of radio silence been the critical ones? The ones that he could never recover?
“John?” Teyla was looking at him as though she’d asked something, but he couldn’t remember what.
“I’m going,” he said, and started off into the night.
Clear. Pleasantly cool after the heat of the day, a very light breeze picking up. Right now was an ideal time for travel. Except they couldn’t. How badly was Teyla’s hip injured? If push came to shove, that might slow them down more than Carson’s arm.
Just leave, she’d say.
No she wouldn’t. That was Holland. That was Charlie Holland. Just leave, Shep. There’s nothing you can do, you stupid son of a bitch.
Behind he heard Dahlia Radim’s voice, Carson answering her, though he couldn’t make out the words. Cliffs. Starlight. He needed to find them a place that was sheltered, where the animals couldn’t sneak up on them, a place with only one exposed side if possible so that one person could cover it. A little further along, maybe. Not too far.
At least they had supplies. He hadn’t before, not many. He hadn’t expected to be down. It was going to be in and out, hardly needing to get out of the helicopter, but groundfire clipped his tail rotor…There. That was better. A little scramble up five or six feet but it was a sheltered overhang, rock on three sides with a long overhang above and a vertical cliff. The only way something could approach it was like he was doing now, straight on.
