Author's note: well, the flooring went in ridiculously fast. Mind you, I'm glad I'm back on line. It took me half a day to put the computer back in place and figure out where all the wiring was suppose to go. Then I pressed the on-button and everything was working. YAY! Ahem… back to the story. The boys are really struggling now…

Chapter 13

Breathing heavily, John eyed the life signs detector and paused in his headlong run through dry bushes and yellowed reeds to gain his bearings. The horse shoe shaped dots had clustered into a circle ahead of him, accumulating in a clutter of white on the screen. The various members of the hunt had probably gathered for the night. If he managed to successfully lure them away, there was still a chance he could double back and make it to the gate.

Ignoring his pounding headache, he lowered himself and moved quietly, careful not to step on any dead twigs or branches. The sun still provided enough light to make out the grasses, bushes, and copses of skeleton trees claiming the grounds around him. He tasted the dry breeze as it rustled brittle leaves, the air had grown warm and rivulets of sweat pored down his back. Straining to listen, he heard voices on the wind, or was that his own blood rushing in his ears?

He tried not to think about the time he had left. The bitter root he'd eaten relieved him of the worst pain and stomach cramps, but didn't do squat for his headache or the energy drain. Judging from what Finalla had told him he figured he didn't have long before the drug wore off. On top of that, Kethel could activate the main crystal any second now, so he needed to hurry.

Not knowing exactly where the enemy was, he crouched as low as possible as he crept closer to the voices. Reeds whipped his face, their sharp edges cutting into his cold skin. Gritting his teeth he cursed the Ancients for not leaving a note in their database listing the emotional rollercoaster ride the Azunite ore provided followed by a deep freeze experience no matter what the ambient temperature was like.

Fighting the pull of sleep, he raised a shaking hand to watch the detector again. He was close. Laughter reached his ears. Creeping forward, he moved to hide behind a couple of waist-high bushes bordering a small rock strewn terrain and peeked through the branches to pick out Arlon sitting on the opposite side of the clearing. Frowning, he also noticed Vex standing among the three men surrounding their leader. Dressed in fine leather as opposed to the heavy cloaks they had worn when he'd first encountered them, the members of the hunt looked pretty relaxed. Closer to his position, two females were sitting on a boulder, talking among themselves while they scooped something out of a bowl. Wrinkling his nose at the smell wafting in his direction, John was willing to bet a month's pay that their meal consisted of herbal stew.

"I cannot believe we are going through all this trouble to catch a purged scientist," one of the women, the smaller one with spiky, short hair stated to her companion. "Eventually, they always return to the Settlement, so why bother?"

"Didn't Arlon tell you?" the lanky, knotty-haired one spoke between two spoonfuls of food. "It's not the scientist that poses the threat. It's the soldier that was with him. He's a rogue element, too strong willed to ever abide by the will of the Settlement."

John bit his lip. He didn't like the sound of this. If they felt that threatened by him, they would use every resource available to keep him from escaping. On the upside, their fanatic attitude would make it easier to draw them away from McKay.

Spiky furrowed her brow. "Yes. I remember him from one of our previous hunts. Feisty," she sounded with admiration. "We had to use the fire flash."

Studying their tight beige attire, John quickly assessed that it didn't leave much room to conceal the grip of a laser whip. The same could be said about Ronon however, who had turned out to be a walking weapon arsenal. And then there were Vex and Arlon who he knew for a fact, both carried a whip.

Knotty sighed. "Too bad we have to finish him off. Arlon should never have left him alive." They ate, laughed and talked about how other Eirulans would come and join the hunt if they would fail to find the Lantian soldier.

John grimaced, knowing he couldn't handle a larger group of people hunting him down. He looked over his shoulder, surveying the alien landscape. He needed to make his move, now.

"So? Why kill him?" Spiky said. "I hear the purged ones are greatly interested in his ability to feel the ore's power. We could take him back to the mines and have some fun with him ourselves along the way."

All right. That's it! He showed himself before their fantasies could get away from them.

Their mouths dropped.

John smirked and started to run.

Rodney's dreams had been nightmarish, full of screaming creatures trying to pierce metal tentacles into his abdomen, his chest, his skull. He lashed out at them, yelled at the top of his lungs for them to stay away but they gained ground and laughed, until suddenly all fell silent, refocusing their attention on a black clad figure with messy hair.

John grabbed his shoulder but Rodney wrenched free and turned, his lips twisting in a cruel smile. Then with a hard shove that caught the colonel off guard, he pushed Sheppard backwards, into the bulk of the deadly creatures. He watched, detached as the living constructs of hell started to rip his friend apart.

And Rodney screamed.

Waking up, he whimpered, sat up and pressed his palms into his eyes. Memories flooded to the forefront of his mind, of words that he couldn't have said, of actions he sure as hell had never performed.

Time...

John was running out of time, and Rodney had … No, no, no, the person that was not him had not given a damn. Wait till nightfall, wait till nightfall, the memory whispered to him. With the dream fresh in his mind, he looked up in bewilderment, recalling John's piercing gaze and the flash of betrayal. Oh God… tell me that didn't actually happen.

In the light of the setting sun he noticed Finalla watching him.

The rest of their little hideout was empty.

Pain ripped into him as strands from a conversation entered his mind, something about Sheppard going to act as a decoy. They thought he'd slept, but he just hadn't been able to open his eyes as he'd fought to keep himself together. And then he had slept… He felt his blood run cold."Tell me you stopped him," he breathed.

"He wouldn't let me," she whispered.

Guilt stemmed his breathing. He had let him go. He'd let John go and hadn't even noticed. Finalla had been right, about everything. The bracelet had done so much more than perform a sick little coercion act. It had implanted thoughts, seeded random nudges for the good of the settlement that urged him to come 'home' back to Kethel who would keep him safe. They had surfaced and enticed him, and he'd listened. Even now, he listened.

But the pain inside wasn't so easily persuaded. It battled the rising fear, tagged onto his runaway mind and kept him grounded in the here and now. Even as insubstantial fingers slipped from the edge, he refused to let the will of the Settlement take over.

Okay, so maybe this wasn't one of his better ideas. Heaving, John ran through a thicket of bushes, keeping his head low, for all the good it would do. Behind him, the snapping of twigs and yelling of voices told him Arlon and his men were closing in. Exhausted, he ran between some small trees, willing his legs to move. He felt his heart thump in his chest, felt coldness sapping his strength, and normally he would have ditched these men a long time ago.

They weren't carrying long range weapons. They were on foot and only used to deal with frightened civilians, so taking them out one by one should have been a piece of cake. Except he couldn't seem to muster the stealth he needed to outwit them. His shirt clung to his back as he paused to gain his bearings. A wave of nausea hit him and he buckled over, took a few deep breaths and then squinted into the deep glow of the setting sun.

He couldn't give in. Not now. He hadn't drawn them far enough away yet.

Hearing a noise behind him, he started running again in a direction that hopefully would lead him back to the gate, only to be thwarted by Knotty and Spiky who suddenly loomed up in front of him. He hadn't heard them, hadn't known they were there, which seriously sucked and spoke volumes of how cotton-clouded his senses had become. Cursing he took a ninety degrees turn to plunge into a vast border of head-high reeds.

Pushing his way through the thick cluster of thin stems, he heard the girls yelling at their companions to cut him off. A massive cracking sound coming from all around signaled the men's chase through the tall grass-like plants. To his left and right, laser whips flared into life.

Crap, he wasn't going to make it.

Rodney stared at the cups and bowls lying forgotten on the ground. His feet felt like lead as he took in the pile of dead wood splattered by the last rays of sunlight. The day's warmth rose from the rock-littered soil, dispersing in the cooling breeze.

"They left in a hurry," Finalla said softly behind him, surveying the hunt's camp site.

Walking toward the wood pile, Rodney glanced sideways but didn't deem her remark worthy of turning fully toward her. Even the lowest grunt could tell that whoever had left hadn't finished starting what looked like a campfire. "We can still catch up," he bit at her.

"Vex has the tracking skills, Rodney. Not me," she sounded a little small, afraid even. "And you?" She stepped closer, eying toppled over mugs, their contents probably spilled into the thirsty sand.

He lifted his head, wanting her to shut up. "I might," he spoke more coolly than he had intended. "Just… wait a second." John had taken the life signs detector, but not his scanner. With a few minor adjustments tried to pick up the dot of a subcutaneous transmitter. The display stayed empty. "Damn it."

"It is not working?"

"Probably because your boyfriend succeeded in frying our transmitters with that whip of his," he hissed at her, fear rolling over him in waves. "If that's the case then I can't find him." He felt his heart beat frantically in his chest and desperately started fiddling with the scanner's settings. He needed a failsafe… An icy coldness stole into his veins and he suddenly felt the need to close his eyes against the overwhelming pressure trying to subjugate him. He panicked. No… He couldn't… just forget about… Sheppard.

Forget about Sheppard!

He whimpered at the demanding order to wait here for the hunt to return, so he could… "No, no, no," he whispered, pressing the ball of his hands into his eyes again.

Damn it. Why couldn't he fight this? He clasped his wrist, surprised to not feel the cold metal of the bracelet. Then why… what the hell had changed? He looked up and got his answer. For all of his warnings meant for Sheppard, he had failed to see the danger a low level purging field could pose to a once conditioned mind.

Above him, the sky had turned a sickly green.

"What? What is that?" Finalla asked, frightened.

"The field," he breathed.

"The device Kethel had you working on?"

He nodded, turning toward her. "Finalla," he sounded desperate, but didn't care. "Without a locator beacon, the field won't affect you," he hissed quickly, trying to get his thoughts across before his mind abandoned him. "But Sheppard…" He cringed, every fiber of his being suddenly alive with pain. Oh yes. The purging field worked beautifully, tried to drive all mention of John from his mind. "Sheppard," he gritted, grabbing her tunic. "The ore's emissions running the field will kill him."

"You know this for certain? For all we know he-"

"I can't leave him behind," he interrupted her harshly.

"He did it to get you home, Rodney." Her features hardened. "He's a soldier and thus knew he was expendable. If you care so much, perhaps you should honor his wish."

Rodney clenched his fists. "He's not," he spat, struggling against chains binding his free will. "Expendable." Damn it. What the hell did John say to her? Oh hey… forget about me, it's McKay you'll want to save? He swallowed as something inside him shouted that yes, to the Settlement, Rodney was more important than John could ever be. "Listen," he urged. He didn't have time to debate her on this. "You have to leave while you still can."

"Not without you," she said, raising his chin.

Rodney rolled his eyes, squeezing the fabric of her tunic. "You don't get it, do you?" he emphasized every word. "As much as it galls me to say this," he waved his arm the way they had come from. "In a minute all I'll want to do is head back to Kethel! You have to get to the Gate! You're an assessor. The scientists in charge of the barrier will let you lower it." He fiddled with the settings of the GDO he'd taken from Finalla earlier and pressed in his code. "This will make sure Atlantis lowers the shield on their end." He squinted, losing his grip on reality. "Make them listen… Don't… Don't let Teyla come. Tell Ronon. They won't be able to stop him," he hissed.

She stared at him, looking shocked.

"God," he leaned over, hands resting on his knees as he breathed heavily through coercing tentacles of pain. Tears stung his eyes. He couldn't hang on. "Go!" He managed to grind out. "Just go."

She nodded, backed away and he lost sight of her.

"Go… before I make you stay," he whispered.

Tbc