SAMARITANS Part 8
A/N; again, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, it makes my day!
Help's Almost There
Ford held his breath as Markham skilfully piloted the jumper down through the eye of the storm. The cloud ceiling was low, but within a matter of a few minutes they were skimming over a storm-tossed sea, heading towards an island dead ahead. The jumper shook and dipped as the powerful winds buffeted the tiny craft; it was taking Markham all his concentration just to keep it flying.
At first glance things didn't look too hopeful. A quick pass over the island showed a small, roughly circular land mass; dizzying cliffs on one side with a more sheltered sandy beach area on the other. It was there that they decided to concentrate the search, focussing on the beach area itself and the small forest behind it. Their efforts were unrewarded. Markham was about to suggest heading back into space to wait out the storm passed when Teyla suggested flying more slowly in a circular pattern over the shore and the lower cliffs bordering the bay. They were all aware that time was passing and that the small window of relative calm within the eye was a short lived event. Markham could see on the heads up display just how fast the other side of the eye wall was rushing towards them
"We're only going to have time for one pass," he said, angling the jumper to fly across the bay area.
"Then we need to find them now," replied Teyla.
"If we don't, it'll be a few more hours before the storm clears enough for it to be safe to try this again." With that thought in mind, the three redoubled their efforts to find the Major and Dr. Beckett.
The waves were huge, enormous breakers crashing onto the beach, the storm surge having left very little sand exposed. The jumper skimmed the tops of the water looking for any sign of their missing friends, feeling the air turbulence caused by the huge seas. Suddenly Markham excitedly pointed out a cave entrance visible in the cliff they were approaching. Quickly he slowed the craft, turning it so that it pointed towards the cave mouth. It was Teyla's sharp eyes that saw him first.
"Aiden," she said urgently, pointing towards the cave.
Ford looked to where she was pointing and saw the Major looking rough and the worse for wear, but alive. He let out a relieved breath, watching as Sheppard waved furiously.
"Can we get them out?"
"Not now, no time," replied Markham who was keeping a check on the approach of the oncoming eye wall.
Ford tried raising the Major on the radio, but with no result. Sheppard had stopped waving and was looking at them expectantly, but there was nothing they could do as yet.
Teyla spoke up suddenly. "If we opened the rear hatch, would it not be possible for one of us to get to the cave and provide assistance?"
There was a short pause while Markham weighed the risks. "If we can do it in a few minutes," he said, turning the craft even as he spoke. Ford rushed to the back, and began opening the rear hatch. Immediately wind rushed in, dangerously destabilising the puddle jumper.
"Ford!" yelled Markham, fighting the air currents.
Frustrated, Ford began closing the hatch again. He shouted to the Major that they would be back once the storm let up, but the wind whipped the words away, and he didn't know if his CO had heard. The rear hatch closed with a thump and calm prevailed inside again. Dejected, Ford returned to the co-pilot's seat, watching disinterestedly as Markham pointed the nose up at a steep angle, flying them up and out of the eye before the onrushing winds sent the little craft spinning out of control into the rocks below. Behind them, Major Sheppard watched them go; realising why they had to leave, cursing the storm and seeking shelter back within the cave itself as the wind began to scream again.
Sheppard had been dozing fitfully by their fire, keeping it going and worrying over Beckett. The Doctor had roused once briefly after their excursion into the storm, but after that, had become unresponsive, alternately shaking with chills, or burning with fever. Sheppard tried to soothe him during the hot periods, wiping his face and exposed skin with cool water, or held him during the chills, hoping his own body warmth would help during the worst of the shivering fits. John's body was hot, though he wasn't fully aware of it, all he felt was a deep numbing cold. He felt chilled to the core, unable to get warm no matter how hot he made the fire.
Carson was mumbling in delirium again; talking or calling out to people John didn't know. Some of the conversations the doctor was having with himself were pleasant, amusing even, but most weren't. Sometimes Beckett would become belligerent, obviously not seeing Sheppard and fought off John's attempts to calm him. The Major was exhausted and didn't know how long he could keep this up. Finally, Beckett quietened again; John used the time to slide out from beneath Carson's hot body to get a drink.
At least water wasn't a problem and it was just as well. Sheppard seemed to have an unquenchable thirst, but his body didn't seem to be able to hold onto the water he drank, as a noisome patch at the back of the cave demonstrated. Getting water into Beckett was another problem. Either the Doctor was so out of it that the water dribbled out again, or he choked, or worse, he was awake and fighting demons of his own, then John found it hard to get near enough to give him water.
Sheppard was sitting idly poking at the fire, Carson sleeping as he contemplated trying to drink something again, the last time his stomach had violently emptied itself, when he thought he heard a jumper fly past. Staggering to his feet, he stumbled to the cave entrance in time to see a puddle jumper slow then hover right in front of him. He almost thought he'd cry, the relief was so great, but instead contented himself with a heartfelt 'thank you' to whatever deity may have been listening.
Thank God, they'd been found. Even the sight of the eye wall steaming towards the island couldn't stop the rush of elation. John watched as the jumper hovered, then began waving frantically in case they hadn't seen him. The small craft turned, the rear hatch beginning to open. "Are they Crazy?" he thought, noticing it begin to dip and bob in the wind. The hatch closed again and Sheppard felt the elation slip a little as their would-be rescuers sped away and up out of the way of the storm. He'd thought he heard Ford yell something about how they'd be 'back as soon as the storm let up', but couldn't be sure. So, no quick rescue then. He sighed, and hobbled back into the cave. Just a few hours more…
Ford was fretting. To him, the storm's progress seemed intolerably slow. Markham had taken up station behind the hurricane, tracking it from space, waiting patiently for it to move on far enough to retrieve the Major and Dr. Beckett. They'd flown back to the stargate and informed Dr. Weir they'd found the missing pair, or at least one of them and she had promised a medical crew on standby. Now all they had to do was wait but he wasn't being very patient. Finally Markham announced that the wind speed over the island had dropped to a safer level, and felt they could go back.
"Finally!" Huffed Ford, as Markham began the descent. They landed the jumper on the beach, as far away from the waterline as they could. Then, putting together as many supplies as possible to carry; exited the jumper and made their way towards the cave.
This time it was Beckett who heard the jumper arrive. The Major had finally dropped into a restless sleep, Carson had woken and been for once, reasonably lucid. Looking over at Sheppard he could see even in the dim firelight that the man looked awful. Five o'clock shadow was giving way to beard, dark smudges under his eyes and his face was gaunt, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. His face was pale but for two smudges of higher colour over the cheekbones. Beckett knew that he himself was probably no picture painting at this point, but lacked the energy to care. He felt totally exhausted, drained by the battle his body was fighting with the infection raging in his body. His leg was agony, raw and red hot and he was terrified of moving it. This was definitely the last time Carson was going on a mission. Things just didn't work out for him when he went off world. Of course, if they weren't rescued soon, going off world again would be a moot point. The Scot felt very thirsty but being reluctant to wake Sheppard, was trying to reach for a drink when he thought he heard a jumper fly past. Beckett had no recollection of the jumper's earlier visit and was worried that if they didn't attract the crew's attention, they might never get off this planet alive.
"Major!" he said as loudly as he could, dismayed at how weak his own voice sounded.
Carson tried again, as Sheppard hadn't stirred.
"Major!" This time there was a little more force behind it and he was rewarded by Sheppard open his eyes.
"Carson?" he questioned blearily.
"Ah think ah just heard a jumper fly past," he croaked, throat dry.
Working on autopilot, Sheppard reached over and passed the doctor a canteen.
"Whad'da'ya say?" he asked again, still not fully awake.
"Ah said, ah think a jumper flew past, just a wee while ago." He accepted the canteen and took a long refreshing drink.
Sheppard suddenly realised the wind was no longer screaming and howling outside. "A jumper?" he asked again, coming fully awake now.
"Tha's wha' ah said," replied Beckett, the small amount of activity involved in talking and drinking having exhausted him again. He lay back, trying to get more comfortable, an impossible task.
John stood quickly, then found himself flat on the floor again when his injured leg refused to take any weight.
Beckett looked at him interestedly. "Wha' jus' happened?" he asked, fading fast.
"Nothing," replied Sheppard ruefully, "Leg's just gone to sleep, must have been lying on it funny."
"Oh." And Beckett was out again.
Sheppard stood more slowly this time and locked his knee before trying to bear weight on it. It worked and he hobbled slowly to the entrance, clutching the wall for support, wondering how it seemed such a long way to the cave mouth. He was rewarded by seeing a watery sun lighting up the seascape outside. The wind still blew, but much less force than before. Clutching at the wall, John breathed the fresh air gratefully, feeling it help to clear his fuzzy head. Hearing voices, he let go of the cliff with the intention of going down to meet them, but his leg wouldn't co-operate. The sun suddenly seemed to be in the wrong place and before Sheppard knew it, he was falling…
TBC
Heh, heh, another cliffie, rubs hands together evilly...
