5. That's Gonna Leave a Mark
When the suffocating weight was shoved off his chest, he gratefully took a deep breath gratefully, opening his eyes; Lieutenant Ford's worried face loomed over him.
"'Preciate that, Lieutenant. The smell alone could kill me." The lieutenant's face showed confusion, and then relief as he realized Sheppard was joking and not raving. Then he saw the mess made of the major's forearm and carefully pulled his C.O. onto his feet. Sheppard wove a little, but then straightened as his vision cleared. Mostly cleared, he amended to himself. "Well that was fun."
Holding his mangled arm awkwardly away from the rough nylon covering of his flak vest, John felt an agonizing throb pulsing in time to his accelerated heartbeat. Taking his C.O.'s good arm, Ford helped him sit beside where Rodney's prone body. The scientist hadn't regained consciousness during the attack, but now his eyelids began to flicker as he struggled to wake. Teyla had already begun pulling items from the pack Ford had laid beside her. Ford approached with one of the canteens and a length of clean bandage.
"Let's start getting that cleaned up, Major." Sheppard nodded, his head buzzing with pain and worry as he stripped off the gut-coated flak vest. With just Rodney's injuries getting back to the gate would be difficult; would it even be possible not that he, too, was wounded? A few long bamboo-like poles rested at the edge of the small clearing, John noticed, trying desperately to find something else to think about besides Ford and his use of scrubbie pads to clean out the dinosaur bite. Ford followed the major's gaze, and grinned with satisfaction.
"Saw those and figured we could use them as a stretcher for the doc," he said, forehead wrinkling as he realized Sheppard would definitely not be able to carry one end. Finally finishing, to John's immense relief, he added, "That should hold you until Dr. Beckett can see to it."
"The poles are a good idea, Ford," he said and then grinned himself with effort. "We've run a little of the lab potato off of McKay so Teyla might be able to manage the other end." Sheppard wasn't actually worried about that at all. The Athosian woman was as strong as most of the men in Atlantis, though she didn't look it. He had the bruises from their workouts to prove it. "Think our first priority is going to be getting a fire built." Ford nodded quickly, and pulling out his Beretta and a flashlight, headed out to look for firewood.
"N'stresher," came a croak from Rodney. Eyebrows raised, Sheppard eased himself over closer and met the determined eyes of the self-proclaimed biggest brain in Atlantis.
"I'm sure Teyla doesn't mind hauling your sorry ass around, McKay," he said comfortably. Bleary blue eyes glared at him.
"Tree," he insisted obliquely. Sheppard glanced around, mystified. A shadow of a huff emerged from Rodney and his eyes rolled in annoyance. Teyla spoke up.
"I believe the Doctor is concerned about getting the stretcher over the tree bridge," she interposed smoothly.
"Duh," was Rodney's concise agreement, though how he managed to infuse so much scorn into a single syllable was impressive to Sheppard.
"Don't worry about it, McKay. We'll figure it out when we get there." When there was no response he looked to Teyla in alarm; she was smiling.
"I believe he is just asleep, Major." Teyla carefully checked the cut on Rodney's head, a slight look of relief crossing her face. Sheppard popped some Tylenol into his mouth, when they heard the sharp report of a 9mm. He was instantly on his feet and reaching for his radio, when Ford came back, one arm loaded with small branches, and the other with the 9mm out and cocked.
"Not a fun place you picked for a campout, sir. Something almost dropped on me, I don't know what, didn't stick around to watch," he grunted as he dropped the small collection of wood and began working on getting a fire started. "We're gonna need more wood than this," he announced to Sheppard, "but I can't gather wood and keep a lookout at the same time." Teyla finished re-bandaging Rodney's head and laid him gently back down on the make shift pillow.
"Teyla, you and Ford go out and get as more wood; you have five minutes. One of you keep watch. I'll stay here with McKay." Nodding, she rose to her feet dusting off her BDU's, and quietly followed Ford back into the woods. They returned minutes later, each, a gun in one hand, and carrying a largish log between them with the other. Ford looked pleased with himself.
"This should keep the fire going all night once we get it burning."
It would and Sheppard assumed it did. He wasn't really sure. Whatever that dinosaur had lurking in its guts was septic. An infection had set in almost immediately; what with nasty dino innards spilling all over him, and then into his laceration. John's temperature soared until he couldn't tell if all this was real, or he was on a ride at Universal Studios. There were strange images and blurry outlines in front of a fire: memories, or fevered dreams, of a great flying pterodactyl, of a smirking pugnacious face both annoying and important. Through it all the ever tightening vise on his forearm, pulsing with pain that began to flash red through his vision until it all went black.