Hang on Hot Shot

She tried to say something funny, but the pain in her shoulder – which had been dull for a while, but was now throbbing with a vengeance – and blood loss were draining her of a lot of her normal good humor. Talon could deal with the pain, somewhat, and he was doing the best he could, but there wasn't any way he could replace the blood that was seeping out her wounded shoulder and smearing her right side, and the movements caused by the flight of the bird – the up and down motion of the wings and the forward momentum – were making it hard for him to control the nerve endings that were causing her so much pain.

We should just kill it... She told him, feeling very much abused, not to mention a little foolish. Carried by a bird-like creature to God only knew where? No one would have ever believed that. She couldn't even imagine what Sheppard and his team were thinking – or doing.

Look down

She did what he told her, and looked down, and realized that they were either going lower or the ground was coming higher. It was certainly closer than it had been the last time she'd looked down. Of course, that had been more than an hour ago.

Could we survive that? She asked him.

Not yet, but if we get too much lower I'm all for doing something

She couldn't use her Beretta. Her right arm and hand were so numb that she wasn't sure she'd be able to move it and she was certain she'd never be able to lift it high enough to fire at the underside of the creature. Her left hand, however, would move. She'd been flexing that hand – and the fingers – making sure that she had mobility there – although she hadn't tried to lift her arm because she didn't want the creature to think she was going for its feathers again and shake her again. That had hurt.

Her left holster held the zat – and while it wouldn't kill the creature – it would shock the hell out of it, and probably make it drop her. The only problem was that since she was touching it – well, technically it was touching her – she'd end up feeling the jolt as well. But she was willing to pay that price.

A few minutes later, she realized that the ground was, indeed, getting closer. She didn't know if they were coming to a mountain top or if the bird was flying lower – although she suspected the former since she didn't feel them going any lower – but where they'd been hundreds of feet above the ground before, now they were only fifty or so – maybe less. She could probably survive that, right?

You wouldn't die immediately. Unless you landed on your head. Let's see if we get any closer.

The mountain – she decided they were coming up to a mountain, since the trees were giving away to bare rock and it certainly looked like it was a mountainous area, even without the peaks she was used to seeing – was looming in front of them, now, and there was a bare dirt looking area that the creature seemed to be heading for.

Landing area?

Maybe. We're close enough now, Melony, do it. We don't want to be at this thing's mercy when it lands

She looked down – thirty feet or so, maybe – and pulled her zat. She looked up, muffling the pained groan as the action moved her right shoulder and she felt the bone grating against the talon that had her pinned so securely, and raised the weapon and fired it.

A shock of electricity coursed through her, tearing a curse from her throat despite her resolve to be quiet, and she almost dropped the zat. Only the fact that she might need it for another shot if the creature let her go forced her to hold onto it. The bird above her was zapped at the same moment, and Melony heard a surprised and pained squawk that pealed through the air around them. It dropped her immediately and she tumbled to the ground, rolling as soon as she landed and feeling a pain shoot through her left leg when she didn't get it tucked under her soon enough and the jolting landing snapped the femur like a piece of tinder.

"Sonofabitch!"

She came to a stop, gasping and wincing, but looking around immediately for the creature.

Look at that

The shock of the zat had had more of an affect on the creature than just hurting it, apparently. The bird was gone, now, and sprawled close to her – where it had apparently fallen out of the sky when the shock had reverted it back to its natural form – was a vaguely human-looking thing that was about eight feet tall and naked.

It – he – she noticed, looked over at her, its weird eyes as pale as Melony's.

"What did you do that for?"

OOOOOOOOO

Sheppard checked the action of his P-90 once more, looking around as he did so. The ground was getting closer – and had been for the last several minutes – and he was going to have to try something soon, before the bird thing took him back out into open space once more. At least here, if he managed to kill it by shooting it – he wouldn't die if the creature dropped him. Probably. John was getting very tired of being carried around like a salmon plucked out of a Canadian lake.

Closer...

He took the safety off.

Closer...

He looked up, checking to see what looked the most vulnerable above him – without getting himself splattered if he could avoid it – and chose his target.

Closer...

He was sure he'd survive a drop from this height. He raised the machine gun. And felt himself falling. The bastard had dropped him!

"Shit!"

He landed in a pile of something soft and felt his wrist snap when it was caught between the butt of his machine gun and his body. Rolling over and out of what appeared to be a haystack, Sheppard tried to get to his feet, and realized that legs that have been dangling for more than an hour will not support anything. He fell back with a groan, this time landing on hard-packed dirt.

"Do not move, or you may hurt yourself." He raised the P-90, turning to see an impossibly tall... person...? standing near him, looking at him with a concerned expression on its... um... her... face.

"Yeah, thanks for the tip..." He saw a shadow over them, and looked up, just in time to see another one of the crazy bird creatures coming in low. This one was carrying Rodney McKay and it dropped him into the pile that Sheppard had just rolled out of.

The astrophysicist landed with a muffled curse that John had never heard him use before, and Sheppard reached out with his good hand and pulled him to the side, fairly certain that where one of his team was, the others would soon be landing as well.

"What was-"

"Are you all right?" Sheppard asked, interrupting his question. It wasn't like he had any answers anyways.

"My legs are sore and I think I need to change my underw-" McKay became aware of the creature standing close by all of the sudden and came to a stop. "What is that?"

"Beats the hell out of me," Sheppard answered, looking up as yet another bird came soaring in, this time carrying Teyla and dropping her into the pile. She landed with a thump and Rodney – who was closer – reached out without getting to his feet and pulled her closer, just as Ford came sailing in as well.

The Lieutenant's curse wasn't muffled at all, and as he lay there in the hay, rubbing the bleeding bump on his head – which he got from landing on his P-90 – he looked around and saw the others.

"What the hell is going on?"

Sheppard turned to the creature that had spoken to him and was standing silently by, watching them.

"That's what I'd like to know," he said. "Where's Colonel Mitchell?"