When they reached the others, everyone was already hard at work. Alishia steered him over to a sack of seeds and a pile of shovels. 'Here; you can either sow seeds or dig. I think the first might be slightly kinder on your back, although the sack is very heavy.'
Sheppard tried not to make his sigh too obvious as he watched the others to assess his choices. The other men planting seeds hefted the sacks onto their backs, which wasn't an option for him, but the diggers were constantly stooped, which looked like it might strain his damaged skin too much. He chose the sack, dragging it along with him as he made his way over to where McKay and Ford were already digging.
"You look like crap!" McKay squeaked, his jaw slack as he watched his wounded friend approaching.
"Thanks."
"No, seriously, they can't expect you to work in this condition."
"They can, and they do," Sheppard assured him.
"You, Sheppard, over here," he heard Sarayah shout behind him. "I don't want you scheming with those other off-worlders."
Clearly, she had no intention of giving him any breaks. With a weary shake of the head, he walked away, dragging the sack of seed along too.
"Here, you can work with Sarndon," she ordered, pointing toward the Genii who was already hard at work with his shovel. The man flicked his eyes up to meet Sheppard's, but looked away again just as quickly, not showing any reaction to seeing him. Sheppard didn't want any trouble, and sorely hoped Sarndon wouldn't start another fight. Though normally he would find the man's ignorance insulting, the fact he wouldn't even look at him was actually a promising sign. Ignorance he could cope with, another beating was beyond him right now.
Sarayah stood at his shoulder watching as he scattered the seeds into the furrows Sarndon was making, then kicking the soil over them and firming it down with his foot.
"Careful how you cast that seed around – be sure it's all covered well," she nagged. He knew she was just trying to annoy him, so he didn't bite. "Are you listening to me?' she asked, jabbing him in the back.
His knees buckled and he staggered, regaining his footing as he fought down the raging pain that contact unleashed. 'Yes, I'm listening," he hissed, holding himself rigid so he didn't aggravate the injuries any more.
'Get down and pick up those wasted seeds," she ordered.
He turned to look at her. Her eyes burned bright with cruelty as she stared him down, desperate to regain mental control of her errant prisoner. He realised what he'd done last night had shaken her. He'd fooled her into thinking he was compliant then knocked her senseless; she wasn't about to forgive him for that in a hurry. But he needed to get away from her and over to that dormant Ancient device. Doing as she told him was a sure-fire way of reducing the antagonism and her need to watch him so closely.
Without a word, he carefully got down on his knees and picked up the stray seeds, throwing them back into the sack.
"Oh, while you're down there, my shoes are dirty. Dust them off for me."
Several expletives ran through Sheppard's pain addled brain. He thought about refusal, but he needed to get her off his back – quite literally. Much as it bothered him to do it, he pulled the sleeve of his tunic over the heel of his hand and used it to buff away the dust on her well-worn shoes. They looked no better for the cleaning, but it wasn't about that. She'd meant to humiliate him, and she'd done an admirable job. As he looked up to see if she was satisfied, he noticed she was wearing his thigh holster and M9. His stomach knotted at the sight. This woman really knew how to push his buttons.
"Now, stay down there and get on with your planting," she growled, strolling away.
He watched her leave, the smirk she wore infuriating him to the point that he wanted to grab her by the throat and shake the life out of her. But he couldn't. He had to hold it together for the sakes of everyone on that planet – women and men alike.
"Is it true about the Wraith?"
The whispered question was barely audible above his own thoughts, and he almost missed it. When it registered, he looked up to find Sarndon looking down at him, eyes filled with fear.
'Is what true?' he asked cautiously.
'You think they'll return soon to kill us all.'
'Where'd you here that?'
'Your friend, the one who talks too much, told us earlier...before you woke.'
Nice going, Rodney, he thought. Way to frighten the poor bastards. 'Unfortunately, yes, it's true.'
'You can save us, yes?'
Sheppard huffed out a laugh. 'I can barely stand, so I'd say that's looking unlikely."
"But if you get to the machine they fixed, you can do it, right? How long do we have?'
Sheppard gazed up at the man, feeling his terror. Despite the fact this brute was frightening in his own right, his dread of what he had seen the Wraith do had him scared. "Not long now."
'What can I do to help?'
Those words were like music to Sheppard's ears. He hadn't thought any of these men had it in them to stand against the women, and Sarndon had seemed the least likely to help considering their differences. It seemed the Wraith attack had struck the fear of God into them all, and they were ready to take action.
'I need a distraction. I have to get away from here and over to the machine to get it up and running, but Sarayah's watching me like a hawk. Think you can do something to get her attention away from me?'
Sarndon frowned as he thought, then turned and walked away, digging little trenches as he went. Sheppard watched his back, wondering if he'd just imagined all that. There was no sign that Sarndon was working toward helping him at all, but then he noticed something. The Genii was quickly working his way over to another worker. He saw Sarndon's lips move, the other man nodded and the deed was done. Soon, a chain reaction took place, the workers surreptitiously passing on Sarndon's message.
Sheppard continued to work, not sure what to expect. He kept one eye on Sarayah, who, of cause, kept both eyes fixed on him, and occasionally glanced at Sarndon, trying to figure out what the man had in mind. A moment later he found out.
'Give me more room. I can't work with you constantly knocking into me.'
One of the men was shouting at Talsan. The youngster looking startled, but was quick to defend himself.
'You bumped into me. You should keep to your own space.'
'Are you calling him a liar?' another piped up, walking toward them both.
'He is a liar,' Talsan protested, backing up a step as they both rounded on him.
'Settle down,' Alishia called over, starting out toward them.
But the men didn't settle. More of them joined in, and soon Muscles had to wade in to try to break things up. McKay and Ford hung back, looking restless. Sheppard peered over at them and was about to signal an instruction when he realised Sarayah was on her way over to him.
He stood just as she reached him and grabbed hold of his arm. 'You. With me,' she grunted, dragging him away.
The two other guards who were working at the site had joined in the melee, a huge scrum in which arms and legs were flying. Fourteen determined men were more than a match for three guards.
'Sarayah, some help please,' he heard Alishia call to her superior.
Sarayah was clearly torn. She knew him too well. 'You move and I'll shoot you,' she warned, joining in the chaos to try to re-establish calm.
He didn't doubt she meant it in her current frame of mind, but he couldn't afford to worry about it. As soon as he was certain her attention was fully diverted, he signalled to Ford and McKay to get moving. They bolted across the field and into the wooded area before anyone even noticed they'd gone.
The pain in his back was excruciating, but the thought of getting that Ancient device up and running kept Sheppard going. He stumbled after stepping on a sharp fallen branch. Ford thankfully heard him hit the dirt and stopping to drag him upright again. 'You okay, Sir?'
'Just keep going!' Sheppard ordered, not even wanting to think about how bad he actually felt.
'How can you still be standing?' Rodney called to him, already read faced and panting from his exertions. 'Your back is in shreds.'
'Not helping, McKay! Shut up and keep moving!'
The pain was building to an unbearable level; he didn't need McKay reminding him of the state he was in when he was doing all he could to shut it out.
They ran on, Ford watching their six. Through the trees ahead, Sheppard could make out the fence surrounding the camp. 'How far to the machine?' he called to the others.
'It's about one click northeast of the camp,' Ford told him.
The electrical pulse of a Wraith stunner hit the trunk of a tree to Sheppard's left. He instinctively swerved away, straining his lacerated back, but forcing himself on. He ducked behind a tree, signalling for the others to take cover, too.
Peering out, he saw Sarayah running up fast. Alishia had been right; she really could move through this rough terrain.
'Come out, Sheppard. You can't hide forever. Show yourself now and I promise to be more lenient,' she called, slowing as she realised she could no longer see them.
Breathing far harder than he knew he should have to, Sheppard was certain she'd find him by following his rasping breaths alone.
'Sir, you go. We'll hold her off,' Ford whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.
'What?' Rodney gasped. 'What's this we?'
'C'mon, McKay,' Ford encouraged, pushing him out into the open.
Rodney stumbled out into the vague pathway that wound through the forest, holding his hands up where Sarayah could see them.
'Er...don't shoot,' he pleaded.
'I won't...if you tell me where your friend is,' Sarayah promised him.
'Well...that's the thing...you see...I'm not sure anymore. The other two run a lot faster than me and I sort of –'
'Shut up!'
Sheppard started to slip quietly away. His instincts told him he should help Rodney since the scientist was likely to talk himself into a whole heap of trouble, but there was more at stake than Rodney getting himself stunned.
McKay was building up a head of steam about Sarayah's lack of respect for him considering he was the smartest man in two galaxies, when Sheppard heard the stunner go off and silence him. He was at the edge of the tree line when Ford jumped in to distract her. From what he could hear, there was a real scrap going on back there, but he knew from experience that Sarayah was tough, and she was armed. He wasn't about to assume Ford would win.
Sheppard made a run for it past the camp, battling with the stitch now building in his side. He was fitter than this. He took 10 kilometre runs in his stride; he could do this even if he bled out every last drop of his blood in the effort.
And he continued to believe that until something took his legs out from beneath him and the floor rose up in a sudden rush.
The weight of his pursuer climbing up his back to pin him down was unbearable, and he screamed into the dirt as Sarayah pushed the stunner to his temple. 'Going somewhere, pretty one?'
'Get the hell off of me!' he cried, trying to twist to throw her off, but only making matters worse.
She sat up on him, scraping her fingers down the course material of his shirt. 'Hurts, does it?' she asked, plainly aware of how much it did.
Grinding out another groan, Sheppard couldn't struggle his way out from under her without her digging her talons into his bloody flesh. 'Why are you doing this?' he gasped. 'I have to get that machine working!'
'So you can leave and all the men go free? I don't think so,' she sneered, raking his back up some more.
He let out another scream, one she dragged out slowly as she gouged at his skin. 'Th...this is much...b...bigger than you an...and me. Don't y...you see that?' he spat through his gritted teeth. 'Why are you m...making this so personal?'
'I didn't make this personal, you did,' she said, standing up now and kicking him over onto his back. 'You made it personal when you decided to trick your way into my hut and use your wiles to escape.'
Sheppard pushed up on his elbows, conscious of the pressure of the ground on his bloody back, and the grains of dirt working through his roughly woven shirt.
'You were the one who drugged me. All I did was turn your deception against you.'
Without missing a beat, she snatched his M9 from the thigh holster she was wearing and shoved it up under his chin. 'I believe I told you that if you moved, I would shoot you. Do you think it's wise to argue with me?'
Sheppard held very still, though his arms trembled from supporting his weight in that uncomfortable and strained position. Her eyes held amusement at his plight. The bitch was actually enjoying this. Unlike her contemporaries, who treated their work as a job to be done as efficiently and emotionless as possible, Sarayah actually took pleasure in hurting and frightening the men. But he seriously doubted she would do what she was threatening. She'd developed an unhealthy obsession with him over the past few days; she did want him dead any more than she wanted him to go free.
'Go ahead and shoot,' he heard himself say, before he'd made the conscious decision to challenge her. Oh, well. He'd find out if he was right, soon enough.
Her face instantly dropped and she pulled back, standing over him. He'd called her bluff.
Angry about falling into his trap, she clubbed him with the butt of his gun. 'Well, I didn't say where I would shoot you,' she spat, as he tried to make sense of his spinning surroundings, vaguely aware she was levelling her weapon.
The hammer of the gun fell. He heard the noise somewhere in amongst the ringing in his head and his leg jerked as if she'd kicked him again. As she back off and stood watching him, he came to the realisation she'd done more than that. A patch of red soaked through his trouser leg on his left thigh small at first, but as the fabric became more saturated it quickly spread.
'Now let's see you try to run, Sheppard,' she challenged, her mouth twisting into a triumphant smirk.
The moment of shocked numbness passed, and white-hot pain seared through his legs. He clutched it in reflex, feeling the blood ooze out through his fingers in warm, sticky trails. 'I can't believe you did that! You're insane! '
'Sadly for you, that might well be true. Now...time for your punishment.'
'What? This isn't enough?'
Sarayah grabbed his hair and hauled him along behind her before he could even attempt to get to his feet. As his back ploughed through the gritty dirt, he felt the skin tearing and scraping. He couldn't figure out what hurt the most – the whip marks, the bullet in the leg, or the hair she was trying to wrench out at the roots.
She reached the gates of the encampment and pounded on them, waiting for someone to open up. One of the guards who had remained at the camp came running at the unexpected arrival.
Sarayah pushed straight in and past her, still dragging Sheppard along with her.
'Where are you taking him, Sarayah? What are you doing?' he heard the other guard shout from behind them.
'Stay out of my way. I am going to teach this wretch a lesson he'll never forget.'