Sheppard looked down at McKay, at the blood-soaked rag Teyla was trying to coax into behaving like a compression bandage. They didn't have time to screw around.

#Let me guess, Ford, there's a herd of Atlantasaurus Rex guarding the gate?#

#Close, Major. You remember that lagoon we all admired when we arrived? The one we talked about maybe taking a swim in? Well the mama crocodile that lives in it has made a nest for her eggs right next to the DHD. She seems pretty determined to keep us away, and Major, she's like 30 feet long!#

Lions and tigers and bears, my ass, thought Sheppard grimly. Dorothy didn't know how good she had it.

#Major?#

Sheppard's eyes refocused on Rodney's pale face. His short brown hair was now spiked into points, blood blown from his shoulder wound during his brief flight acting as a kind of hair gel.

#Swing back by the ruins, Ford, and raid the packs for any extra clips and get all the medical supplies. I've got a feeling we'll need them. Think you can follow our trail?#

#Yes, sir# came the instant response.

#Be careful, Ford. At this rate you might run into a psycho Barney out there.#

#Understood, Major.#

Sighing, Sheppard stood up and stretched, then began evaluating what they had. McKay watched through half-closed eyes, though John figured he was tracking the motion more than actually paying attention. A dislocated shoulder hurt like a son of bitch, and those puncture wounds probably didn't feel too great either. Add in the concussion, and Supergeek was out of action until they could get him back to Carson and Atlantis. Even then, he wouldn't be in for a very fun time.

While they were strapping McKay's arm to hold it in place until Carson could put it back, the blue eyes had faded with the effort of not crying out from the excruciating pain. This, Sheppard told him silently, definitely qualifies as passing out. Sheppard and Teyla both knew it was necessary until they could get him back to Atlantis, but the strain of inflicting misery on their teammate had shown in the tight muscles around Teyla's eyes and mouth. John himself had been grateful when Rodney had gone limp, his hands shaking as they finished.

Now John surveyed the meager results from their vests. Ten MRE's, seven alone from Rodney, four canteens, two magazines for his P-90 plus the half-clip he still had, five magazines for the 9mm's Teyla and Rodney carried, two grenades, several stubby pencils and notepads (Rodney's), antihistamine capsules (Rodney's), three PowerBars (s'mores no less and John decided he was going to have to carry out a lightning raid on Rodney's quarters to find his stash), his long hunting knife, two small kits of tools, one archaeological, one electrical John guessed, and sundry odds and ends. He glanced over at Rodney's still form.

"How is he?"

Their eyes locked over Rodney's battered form. They had left him in the bloodied flak vest before strapping his arm, and he lay with his eyes closed.

"As well as he can be. When he rouses his discomfort will be great," she said, looking distressed.

"Hopefully Ford can get here quickly with the morphine."

"I do not believe it would be wise to use the morphine," said Teyla regretfully. John's attention focused sharply on her but she went on. "Dr. Beckett says it is something that should only be used with a head injury when the patient can be very closely monitored." Sheppard sighed.

"I've got a feeling that extra-strength Tylenol just isn't gonna cut it, though." Teyla nodded agreement but there was really nothing else to say. This was going to get a lot worse before they got back.

They had been scheduled for an overnight with a check-in at 0800, but Weir wouldn't start to worry for at least a few hours after that. Rodney couldn't wait that long. He glanced up at a sound, hoping that mentioning Ford's name would somehow magically cause him to appear. The sun was going down and it was starting to get dark on this world. He felt the hair on his neck prickle. Unless Ford was playing a practical joke that involved sneaking through the undergrowth and making his eyes glow, there was something else after them. The fun just never stopped here, he thought wryly.

He glanced over at Teyla to see her eyes wide and alert, following the sound in the trees around them. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head toward the one he was sure of. She pointed one finger the direction he'd indicated, and then pointed once more behind them. Slowly, warily, Sheppard got to his feet, P-90 at the ready, and stood close to Rodney and Teyla, so close he was almost straddling Rodney's prone form; Teyla pulled the 9mm from the holster on her leg and moved one of the magazines closer to her.

The animals attacked all at once. Immediately John and Teyla reacted, each expertly destroying one of the waist-high dinosaurs. The problem John discovered, was with the third one, and the problem was it wanted to eat him. It was like a piranha with legs, ramming into him from the right side, knocking him away from McKay. Landing heavily on his chest, the razor tip claws needled through the heavy weave of his flak vest and as brutally jagged teeth sank into the forearm he held up protectively. Warm, fetid breath washed over Sheppard's face and he groped frantically for his knife in its heavy nylon sheath.

Over the years Sheppard had gotten fond of his arm and he wasn't ready to give it up just yet. As he slammed the long blade into the guts of the dog-sized dinosaur, it abruptly let go, jaws snapping open and shut over and over again in its death throes and spilling its entrails and previous meal all over him in a wet, slimy mess.

"Major Sheppard!"

It was Ford live and in person. 'Good,' thought Sheppard absently, 'he'll have some morphine for Rodney. Oh wait, Rodney can't have any.' And then as the first ripples of pain washed up from his arm, he thought, 'maybe I'll have some though.'