CHAPTER 3: Unfiltered
They should have known better than to trust these people. McKay's whiny voice and images of shiny ZPMs danced in their heads and that had sealed the deal. They had known before leaving Atlantis that these people hid a thing or two up their sleeve. The Ancients had them filed under something Sheppard associated as a watch list. They just didn't play well together. This was a known fact and still they had come to the planet.
Sheppard would have smacked himself, but a fist flying into his line of sight from the left did the job for him. His head snapped back and a flash of brilliant red invaded his vision. Pain radiated from the point of impact but Sheppard was too distracted by fending off the next blow to care.
Ronon grunted beside him and he felt, rather than saw, the large man tumble to the ground with three large, bare-chested men barreling down on him. Too bad Sheppard was a bit preoccupied at the moment, or he would have found humor in the way the men flew off into the underbrush as Ronon came roaring back into action.
Without warning, Sheppard was knocked from his feet and he fell to the ground with a grunt. He saw too many of the wild men converging upon him. His back screamed at him and he panted as he fought to bring air into his abused lungs. He could hear grunts and cries off to his right but he had no idea if Ronon was the one inflicting the pain or suffering it.
His mind drifted to his other two teammates as the men around him pummeled balled fists and bare feet into him. He hoped they were safe. Ugh. There goes a rib. Ooh. That was a little too close to the boys. The abuse just kept on coming. His vision was beginning to produce flashes of random light. Through those flashes, he spied the insane rage painted upon the battle-hardy faces of his attackers. Fear danced around his fading consciousness.
-------o-------
Slipping into the undergrowth of the jungle and away from the menagerie that was the natives been a little too easy. But that is exactly what Teyla and McKay had accomplished. Yet they could not seem to pick up on the trail of their teammates. Teyla stooped to the ground ever so often, checking for tracks, but to no avail. McKay glanced nervously over his shoulder from time to time. They could still hear the manic shrieks from afar.
"If it weren't for the fact that we are currently lost in a creepy jungle filled with crazy people, I'd almost be bored. The lack of technology on this planet is dismal to say the least."
Teyla would only glance back at him as he continued his monologue, never revealing her thoughts on their current predicament. McKay could tell she was worried but she was well accustomed to these kinds of situations. She was more relaxed than the gentle ripples of the incoming tide just as she could be as ferocious as an unsuspecting torrent of water churning to shore.
"Seriously, if we don't get back to the Jumper soon, I'm going to delve into quantum theories to stave off boredom."
They stomped through more underbrush, pushing onward for what seemed like hours when in reality, it was only nearly one. Rodney indeed began to ramble on into quantum theories and Teyla had just as quickly tuned him out. She listened intently to the life of the jungle about them. She was learning its language and she did not like what she was hearing.
Snap.
A twig? Teyla scanned the depths of the trees shading them from the mid-day sun. She caught movement thirty yards from their current position. She brought her arm up, fist bound tight. McKay nearly ran face first into said fist and stopped abruptly.
"What? What is it?" His wide eyes darted around frantically. McKay had never been one for the outdoors. Computer keys and coffee mugs clinking in a lab were sounds he was most attuned to.
Teyla stared at him out the corner of her eye, her face set in caution. She tilted her head, like she often did when trying to sense the Wraith.
A small rustle in the underbrush fifteen yards in the opposite direction had both spinning around, bodies tense and at the ready for attack.
"Ow!"
McKay's exasperated voice was louder than Teyla would have liked in their present situation. She gave him her signature disapproving lift of an eyebrow. McKay rubbed his head, peering up into the thick overhang of branches.
A small object came hurtling down at him and this time, he narrowly avoided impact. It bounced harmlessly off the rich soil beneath his feet. As his eyes rested upon the object a look of annoyance spread over his face, all fear melting away in an instant. He stooped to pick it up and twist it in his fingers. Glancing upward, he suddenly hurled it back to whence it came.
A sharp yelp came in reply.
Fear came stampeding back. Teyla drew closer to McKay, the lean muscles in her shoulders tightening with tension.
Another object came hurtling downwards. Teyla caught it swiftly and brought it up so that both she and McKay could identify it.
"Huh, looks like some kind of over-sized walnut…OW!"
As the third "walnut" smacked into his forehead, giggling could be heard within the heights of the trees. Teyla peered out of the corner of her eyes at McKay with amusement. She could not stop the smile from forming upon her lips.
"It seems you attract children on nearly every inhabited planet we visit, Dr. McKay. Perhaps you should introduce yourself before more of them catch on to this…sport."
McKay jutted his chin out ready to fire back a retort when another walnut nearly collided with his left shoulder. He stooped down, grabbed one of the walnuts and hurled it back upwards into the trees.
"Hey!" Came a child's whiny voice.
McKay smiled in a smug fashion. After waiting several moments to see if anything would become of his retaliation, the teammates began to move forward again. After another twenty minutes, McKay noted that Teyla was tense, glancing about the trees more frequently.
"What is it?" McKay asked, immediately sensing her unease.
"They are following us."
"Who?" McKay began to search frantically through the thick trees with his eyes.
"The children." Teyla remained serious only for a moment, before chuckling light-heartedly.
"Don't do that! You could have given me a heart attack!" McKay raised his voice. After settling down, his eyes still scanning the trees, he became serious. "Why are there children in the trees?"
"I do not know." Teyla murmured with her head tilted to the left. "I can only sense four at the moment."
"You can sense them?" McKay had stopped in his tracks to stare at Teyla in wonder. She would have rolled her eyes but she chose to state the obvious.
"I can hear them, Dr. McKay. I believe from the variety of sounds that there are four. They hide themselves well." At her last statement, she searched the trees, narrowing her eyes as she caught movement beyond a thicket of trees. Just a flash of tan-colored skin: but nothing more. McKay was already off on a tangent by now as she turned her attention back to him.
"Considering the Heracs were once tantamount in intelligence to the Ancients, I'm finding a lot of things about these people rather substandard, Teyla.' He began to tick things off with his fingers splayed before him. "They don't appear to have any technology, which goes against everything we've learned from the database about these people I might add. They have crazy people running loose in the jungle. The government, if that's what you want to call those guys in togas, flew the coop because of a little fire. And there's no air conditioning."
McKay paused a moment to catch his breath. Sweat was rolling off his skin at an alarming rate. Their canteens were almost empty and they'd need to refill them sooner than later. "We shouldn't be surprised they have children living in trees. If only Earth would take a hint and outlaw children in public places…."
Teyla paused, stopping enough in her stride to cause McKay to nearly stumble. He glanced back at her in surprise. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Have you not considered that perhaps they live this way out of choice? Just because they appear not to live in 'great' kingdoms of metal or possess technology to 'ease' their hardships does not make them any less intelligent than you or I."
McKay crinkled his brow at this new introspection. He was unaware that Teyla had resumed on through the trees when another crack sent a sharp report of pain from his head. Seething, he glared upwards and moved forward to catch up with Teyla. Light-hearted giggles carried on the light breeze.
-------o-------
Once when he was nearly seven, Sheppard fell from the massive oak tree in the backyard. He had fractured his femur in two places and had to have two screws surgically implanted to help in fusing the bones back together. After an entire night of miserable pain, his father had told him to quit whining and just suck it up. Men weren't supposed to show weakness. Pain was only useful for reminding us that we weren't immortal. Sheppard hadn't had a very loving relationship with his father.
Now, the pain was beyond excruciating. He hurt in places he hadn't previously been aware of, if that were even possible. It took every bit of willpower to command his arms and legs to shuffle across the rich cool black soil beneath him. One arm in front of the other, feet dragging behind…a bit of adrenaline would fuel him every so once in a while and he could command his knees to join in on the forward momentum. So when he realized he couldn't just suck it up this time, Sheppard began to laugh out loud, even though it sent stabs of pain radiating across his chest. What was one more bit of pain anyway?
His laughter sounded muffled against the thinning underbrush surrounding him. When Sheppard had awoken…funny because he hadn't been aware of losing consciousness in the first place…he had found himself alone in the underbrush. Ronon was nowhere to be found. Wherever he had gone, Sheppard sincerely hoped the man wasn't in such dire straights as him. He also bleakly hoped that Teyla was slapping McKay upside the head in his honor for the predicament they had landed themselves in.
No technology for play makes for a very useless McKay. Sheppard thought giddily, another bout of laughter escaping his split lip. The blood was already dry.
-------o-------
Ronon awoke to several hands slapping his bruised cheeks. A low growl began to rumble in his throat, eliciting said hands to immediately withdraw. Opening his eyes, Ronon sat bolt upright, startling the mass of bodies surrounding him. There were torn raggedy old clothes draped upon skeleton-like bodies. Wild straw-blonde hair shot out in every direction, long and short. Wide frantic eyes of blue or green or gray darted from one thing to the next.
Drawn faces, malnourished even, glanced from him to each other to the surrounding trees of the jungle. From Ronon's count, there were at least eleven of these people…the natives that had nearly trampled him and his teammates.
Where was Sheppard?
Glancing around, his dreadlocks flipping back and forth, Ronon found only the constantly shifting natives blocking his view. They were watching him. They appeared intimidated by him. His aching body told of the abuse he had suffered not too long ago. The threat – those bare-chested men – were nowhere in sight.
"Water." Ronon requested, finding his canteen missing. One of the natives must have taken it. He found comfort in the fact that he had seven knifes hidden strategically about his person.
A young blonde man knelt before him. His hair would have given Sheppard a run for his money. A genuine smile spread across his fatigued features. His teeth were perfectly white. Blue eyes flitted over Ronon's dirt and blood-streaked body.
"We'll get you some. Not a worry, friend. Not a worry." He reached out to pat Ronon on the shoulder but found a massive hand clamped around his wrist stopping movement all together. He followed the length of the arm up to Ronon's meaningful glare. Nonetheless, the man appeared not to be intimidated.
"We must take you to the shore. It is safer there. You want water. We have water. Clean water. Pure water."
"Clean, pure water." The others began to chant the words, the smiles almost contagious in appearing on every one of their faces like little lights flipping on in the dark.
Ronon narrowed his eyes in question.
"I need water now." He knew they were far from the shore and the heat of the jungle would only make things worse. Add to the list his mounting pain and his questionable ability to walk on throbbing, bleeding legs…he wasn't going to make it very far unaided.
There was some commotion. A couple of shrieks emitted from those standing in the rear.
"Nonononononononono!"
Another figure emerged to the front, this one a female whose hair flowed to the mid section of her back, frizzy and unkempt. A matching pair of blue eyes rested upon Ronon and she knelt down beside the man. She shook her head.
"Please, come with us." She held out a frail hand as if to offer assistance to Ronon. Ronon brushed her off rather rudely and stubbornly lifted himself off the ground. Those same hands reached out and supported him as he swayed. Black dots danced in his vision briefly before clearing. Titling his neck from side to side produced a satisfying snap of cartilage and bone readjusting. Ronon shrugged his shoulders as the natives gathered about him, ready to leave their position.
"Lead the way."
-------o-------
Sweat rolled off his bruising face, dripping off the tip of his nose. The heat was beyond sweltering and all he could hope for was that it was nearing midday, thus the temperature would surely begin to drop. However, it was foreign territory: it would normally take days to learn the song and dance of this planet. Sunset, sunrise, the three moons and their effect on the tides, weather patterns…all these things of nature that speak louder than words but much too often ignored.
Something made him pause in his disrupted flow of thought. Trickling. Liquid…water! He hadn't realized until now (perhaps it was the pain, dumbass) how thirsty he was.
He had nothing on him…not his weapons, his tack vest, not even his canteen. And he knew by now, as he realized some short time ago, he no longer had his boots. Which meant his knife hidden in a strap about his ankle was also absent. Damn, should've brought spares. Another giggle escaped his lips.
He paused in his trek forward and listened. A small smile formed upon his face and he winced from the use of bruised muscles. The water was close. He could even feel the air around him grow cooler with each drag forward.
Finally, he caught sight of a gentle bubbling stream of clear liquid cascading down nearly jet-black smooth pebbles. The brush edging the stream was nearly non-existent. His access to leaning over the banks was as simple as lying flat on his abused chest and dipping a trembling hand into the refreshingly cool water.
-------o-------
Sweat was practically pouring off of them at this point. Teyla and McKay found themselves almost sluggish, placing one rather unsteady foot in front of the other. Their water supply was gone. So were the children that had been trailing them, as far as Teyla could determine. She insisted that she could hear the trickling of water not too far off from their position.
They trudged onward.
-------o-------
Sheppard threw a splash of water over his face, rubbing his face tenderly and relishing in the brief comfort. He slowly eased himself forward a bit more and began to scoop water and trickle it over any exposed wounds he had about his body. And there were plenty among his now shredded uniform. Wasn't like those came by the dozen, either.
-------o-------
Finally, they had found water. It was a river with white foamy water tumbling over rocks and cascading down a slight slope in the jungle. The trees were thinner here, allowing sunlight to pour down upon them. The hot rays blazed down on their sweaty skin as McKay filled their canteens. It was the least he could do after upsetting Teyla earlier.
He screwed the cap onto Teyla's canteen and proceeded to fill his own. When it was nearly full, McKay brought it to his parched lips.
"STOP!"
Startled, his hands fumbled and he dropped the canteen straight into the fast-moving water. He let out an exasperated sigh, threw his head back and spun around to yell back at whomever had spoken.
To his surprise, he found a rather battered Ronon surrounded by a mass of the crazy natives from earlier. Teyla was standing close by, alert, but from the look in Ronon's eyes, the only danger of the moment was currently focused on McKay.
"What happened to you? Where's Sheppard?" He stood abruptly.
"Don't drink the water." Ronon's stoic voice carried through the clearing. The warrior was losing steam, swaying on his feet. He looked ready to topple at any moment.
Rodney backed away from the river, staring at it as if it were a vile thing. He came to stand beside Teyla and heard a whump. Looking over, he found Ronon lying flat on his face with a couple of the natives rushing to his side, patting at his face. Ronon didn't move.
-------o-------
He scooped up a mouthful and slurped from his cupped hands. Immediately, Sheppard sprayed the water out, his face scrunching up in shock and disgust. The water was bitter. Amazingly cold, but disturbingly bitter. Shaking his head as if to rid of the notion, he took another sip. This time, he kept the water down, relishing as it flowed down his throat and into his empty stomach.
-------o-------
"Ronon." Teyla's soft voice called over the rushing water. She had his head cradled in her lap and she was gently tapping him on the cheek.
The group of natives was huddled together in crouched positions a few yards away near the trees. They were whispering to each other. They appeared to be on constant alert: their movement rash, eyes darting all around.
McKay was pacing behind Teyla. He maintained a little distance from the natives. Wringing his hands, he would occasionally glance over to see if Ronon had regained consciousness.
"I need to be doing something. I need to be working on something." He muttered. He was beginning to realize how fond he had grown of tinkering with Ancient devices just as much as he was in discovering them.
"Just once, I'd like to find a nice planet where the people are friendly and willing to hand over any ZedPMs they should so happen to possess."
"Rodney." Teyla's voice was a warning. He glanced up to find a young man standing before them, a smile plastered on his face in a gesture of friendliness.
"The water is bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. Don't drink the water."
"Yes, we already established that…" Rodney prompted, waiting for the native to continue, hoping to finally get some answers.
"Filtered water, that's what we did. Do. Done. Dead. No more. Water clean. We keep water clean, pure."
Behind them, the natives began to chant quietly. "Clean, pure water."
After a long pause in which Teyla and McKay exchanged perplexed glances, McKay glanced back at the seemingly harmless river.
"What's wrong with the water?" His voice squeaked.
"Water bad."
-------o-------
At first he didn't notice. The pain of water contacting open flesh wounds temporarily disguised it. But then, after he had taken enough slurps, he sensed a tingling numbness taking over his body. That was the best he could describe it as. His aches and pains were beginning to ebb away. His clouding mind was clearing. Everything began to appear brighter and more colorful around him. Sounds of faraway creatures increased in tone and quantity. And that bitter taste in the water began to slowly die away.
Something strange was happening to him. He knew it. But for some reason, he simply didn't care anymore. Strength returned to his muscles. His heart beat faster. Adrenaline pumped into his veins with such ferocity his head was spinning. Whatever this was, he liked it.
Sheppard struggled to a stand, a rush of light-headedness darkening his vision momentarily. He took a testy step forward and found he could support his own weight. He smiled. Far away, he heard a battle cry. He turned to this noise, knowing deep down the source of it. His aches and pains seemingly forgotten, he rushed into the depths of the trees.
-------tbc-------