Chapter 9
Jack trekked through the dark woods, pushing branches and vines out of his way, slapping at the occasional hungry insect and ignoring the rational voice in his head that told him he was just getting himself hopelessly—more hopelessly—lost. He was fairly certain he had imagined the shimmering light, since he hadn't seen anything since, but he kept going. Something elemental, something more than instinct, was leading him onward.
And at this point, what else could he do?
The flashlight started to flicker and he stopped walking and switched it off. He listened to his own breathing in the night air and to the sounds of the forest around him. The buzzing of insects, the occasional scurrying of small animals. The trickle of water from a small stream somewhere.
He still couldn't see very far, even if there had been anything to see but more trees, but he thought he could see a little better than before. Either it was finally beginning to get light, or his eyes were adjusting to what had before seemed like total darkness. He looked up but the sky was hidden by the thick canopy.
He was about to move forward again when he heard it. It was distant, but he was sure that was the sound of shouting. He waited for more, but there was nothing. Damn, which direction had that come from? There again, another shout, multiple voices. Jack started forward, moving as quickly as possible through the brush and listening.
There was a sudden loud squawk nearby, and several birds, or at least flying things, burst from a tree in front of him and flew off. Jack started, raised his P-90 and did a quick 360 looking for whatever had scared the creatures. He heard it before he saw it, the sound of feet pounding through the woods, crashing through the trees, coming fast. He moved to the side, rapidly ducking behind a tree, just before two large figures appeared from the darkness. They rushed past him without pausing, merely feet away, a man and a woman, and Jack got a look at one of their faces, eyes stretched wide and mouth open in terror.
Jack, heart pounding, stayed where he was, waiting, letting a full minute tick by, making sure that whatever had sent those people running wasn't coming up right behind them. He got up slowly, scanning the trees in front of him. Nothing. The forest had grown quiet again, swallowing up the panicked couple as if they'd never been there.
Jack started to move in the direction they had come from—in the direction he had already been going. He knew. He knew, because he knew Daniel and because he knew SG-1's damn rotten track record for trouble, that whatever terrifying thing was going down, that Daniel, if Daniel was even still alive, was right in the middle of it. He pictured the look on the woman's face as she'd run past, and he was again seized by a terrible fear for his teammates.
It was all he could do to keep from breaking into a dead run, but he made himself move with caution. He wasn't going to help anyone by fracturing a leg in the dark or rushing into an unknown situation. Find the enemy, analyze the options, plan the attack. Anything else would likely get him and his teammates killed.
He reached for his radio. Maybe the rescue teams were closer; maybe they'd heard the shouting. At any rate, he should tell them what he'd seen and heard.
"Makepeace? Come in," he said quietly into the radio.
"I read you, O'Neill."
"I was just passed by two people running for their lives, and I heard shouting in the distance. Are you close enough to have heard anything? Any sign of Daniel and Teal'c?"
"Negative on the shouting, O'Neill. But we've found a body."
Jack's heart clenched. "A body?"
"A woman. Must be a native of the planet. Her neck was broken."
"Teal'c and Daniel?"
"We've got tracks, and we've found blood in a shack, not too much. And it looks as if . . . it looks like there was a struggle between Teal'c and the woman. We think he. . . ." Makepeace didn't finish, but his meaning was clear.
Crap, Jack thought. Teal'c, what have you done? "Anything else?" he asked abruptly when Makepeace stopped, not sure he wanted to know.
"We found a radio, smashed, a little way back. Probably Teal'c's from the tracks around it. We're following his trail now, from the shack."
"All right, Makepeace. I'm heading in the direction of the noise I heard earlier. Keep on your trail. I'm guessing we'll end up at the same place. Is Carter with you?"
"Negative, O'Neill. We sent her back through the Gate to get checked out. We're. . . ."
A sudden scream split the air, muffled by distance but continuing into a rising shriek. Jack heard it somewhere ahead of him and, more dimly, through his radio.
"You hear that, O'Neill?"
"Shit, yes, Makepeace. That's Daniel. I'm going."
"Not without backup, O'Neill! We'll be there as fast as we can!"
Jack let go of the radio, ignoring Makepeace's shouted warning, and started to run, the agonized cries in the distance spurring him on. Branches slapped into his face and body, and tree roots threatened to send him flying, but he didn't slow down. Caution and military training be damned, he had to get to Daniel.
"O'Neill! . . . Damn it, Jack, respond!" Makepeace's voice yelled over the radio.
But Jack kept running.
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Makepeace swore and put away his radio. Dr. Fraiser, standing next to him in her orange suit, gave him a look through her mask, and he scowled. They both knew nothing would stop Jack O'Neill if one of his teammates was in trouble. The distant screaming wasn't stopping, and Makepiece didn't want to know what was causing the man to yell that way. It was all he could do to keep from running madly through the woods himself.
Fraiser moved off impatiently, looking in the direction of the screams, which abruptly stopped for a moment, and then continued. He saw her give a small shudder before she started ordering her people to look sharp. His own men looked at him, obviously unnerved.
"Listen up, people," he said, and all eyes snapped to him, at least as far as he could tell through the masks of the damn Hazmat suits. He considered telling them to lose the suits, which would slow them down and were like bull's-eyes for anyone who wanted to take target practice, but he'd seen how Carter had been acting and knew he couldn't risk it. "One of our people is in trouble," he went on. "The best way to help him is to stay alert and focus on the mission. Understood?" A few nodded at the rhetorical question. Lieutenant Spinner kept looking behind him toward the horrifying sounds. "Lieutenant, you with me?" he snapped.
"Yes, sir!" the young officer said, turning his attention back to his team leader.
"Major Everham, have your people fan out on either side of us. Fong, you have point. Jorgenson, take our six. Dr. Fraiser, keep your team between me and Spinner. We're going to be moving fast, but I want everyone to keep up your intervals, got that? And remember, we have three friendlies out there, one probably compromised, and indigenous people who may or may not be hostile, so look before you shoot, understood?"
He watched with some professional pride as everyone started moving. "Don't worry, people, we'll get to him. O.K., move out!"
And the rescue party headed forward in the gray dawn, tracking the tortured screams of one of their own.
