Part 5
"What does he think he's doing?" Sheppard asked quietly. His earlier frustration at not being able to establish two way communications with the two doctors was put on hold.
"Saving Dr. Beckett's life," Ronan answered.
The colonel shook his head, didn't anyone understand what a rhetorical question was?
The five in the control room watched with mixed emotions as the creature ignored McKay and focused its attention back on the sluggishly moving Scotsman.
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"Damn it," McKay muttered. He hefted one of the devices in his hand and stared at it gauging its weight and his own resolve. He turned his attention back to the creature and Beckett who slowly started bending his leg as if he were waking up.
"Hey!" Rodney shouted again managing to put as much arrogance and taunting into his voice as he did when dealing with Kavanagh. He wound his arm back, raised his leg like any good little league pitcher would do and snapped his arm forward, whipping his elbow from over his shoulder and snapping his wrist like a whip.
The small round device flew through his hand like a fast ball heading for the catch's mitt.
The small ancient device whistled down the corridor and ricocheted off the creature's head.
The creature paused in lifting Beckett from the floor by the front of his jacket and t-shirt.
Rodney cocked his arm back again and let loose with another device. It sailed through the air, spiraling like a curve ball and landed solidly against the creature's slightly turned head, catching it squarely in the cheek. The device bounced off and skipped down the opposite wall skittering across the floor out of sight.
The creature dropped Beckett, who landed with a groan, and turned its complete attention to the human behind it.
"Carson, you with me?" McKay asked, backing up, favoring his left leg and hefting his last makeshift baseball in his right hand.
"Rodney? What are you doin' lad?" Beckett's slurred question fairly dripped with confusion.
"Saving your ass again," McKay kept his eye on the creature that had turned to face him. "Come on ugly," Rodney jeered. "You want more of this?" McKay tossed the device upward like a cocky pitcher taunting a batter. "Carson, get ready to run."
"Aye, what are you about?" Beckett mumbled, trying to work his feet underneath himself.
Rodney kept his eyes locked on the black beast that made a tentative step toward him. He watched dismayed as Carson's movements remained sluggish and uncoordinated.
"I'll be, uh," McKay swallowed as the creature dropped its head slightly and peeled back near seamless lips to expose a healthy row of teeth. "I'll be uh, fine," his voice cracked. His mouth suddenly became dry.
"Rodney?" Beckett's voice grew stronger as his movements became more coordinated.
"You ready?" McKay asked, drawing his arm back, his eyes locked sorely on the creature in front of him.
"Rodney?" Carson asked again, trying to push himself up the wall to gain his feet. Everything seemed to be spinning around him too fast and in too many directions. Nothing was making sense.
"Go!" Rodney yelled and whipped the device in what he thought was the best fast ball of his entire albeit abbreviated little league career of only two weeks.
He watched mesmerized as the small device flew from his outstretched hand, hurtling through the air like a bullet from a gun. He followed it, a smile playing on the edges of his lips. He would have made a fantastic pitcher if only he could have found someone to give him a ride to practices and games.
The device cut through the dark corridor, traveling a straight line and smashed squarely between the eyes of the monster.
The device fell to the floor at the creature's clawed feet.
The creature stopped its forward motion. Its head moved neither backward nor to either side with the sharp impact of the object.
"Oh no," Rodney squealed softly to himself.
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In the control room Colonel John Sheppard's, "Oh shit," verbalized the apprehension and fear that held the group.
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The creature tipped back its head and let a deafening roar pierce the area.
Rodney shuffled backward only a few inches, his legs refusing to move, unable to unscramble the mixed signals that flashed from his brain. One instinct whispered to remain still, perhaps he wouldn't be seen, others screamed for him to run like hell.
The creature's grotesque roar marked its charge toward the rooted scientist.
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"Move Rodney!" Sheppard screamed at the computer screen. "Move!"
Zelenka looked up from his console to stare at the backs of the group that watched the progress of his friends. "Yes, Rodney, move," Zelenka whispered without being able to see what was occurring over at the next computer screen.
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Rodney stood paralyzed as the black monstrosity bore down at him with teeth bared. He stared fixated at the discolored teeth that all seemed to come to points. He noticed the flared nostrils that sat close to the cheeks much like mountain gorillas he had read about one night hiding from the fighting down stairs as his parents tore verbal strips off one another; blaming one another for his very existence. He had read about mountain gorillas that night and had thought how lucky they were to have mothers and family groups to help raise the young. They had flat nostrils. The similarities ended there. He could remember that; he could remember that they had kind eyes in the pictures, human like hands and expressions. They seemed kind. Kind to their young, he had wanted to be a mountain gorilla that night, just for one night.
He closed his eyes waiting for the impact.
He heard it, but didn't feel it.
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"Son of a bitch," Sheppard stated in surprise.
"Dr. Beckett is full of surprises," Teyla noted matter of factly.
"He used to play rugby." Weir pointed out
"He is tougher than he acts," Ronan pointed out.
Sheppard furrowed his brow and stared at Dex.
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Rodney unpeeled one eye and stared for only a moment at the empty space before him.
Thrashing movement to his immediate right had him snapping back into action.
"Carson!" McKay turned his attention to the doctor who scrambled unsuccessfully to separate himself from the downed creature.
The monster let loose with another inhuman roar and slashed at the human who struggled just within its grip. Beckett threw himself backward, entangling his feet and stumbled across the narrow corridor flailing his arms, falling into far wall, next to the open door. His head snapped back against the wall with the sudden cessation of movement of his body and then bounced forward. He slid bonelessly to the floor gasping for breath.
McKay lashed out with a foot, connecting solidly with the creature's chest and knocking it back to the ground.
"Oh the foot, the foot, oh damn that's going to hurt," Rodney muttered hobbling on his feet.
The astrophysicist limped and ran his way toward the aimlessly struggling doctor and grabbed him by the coat collar. "No time for napping, Carson," McKay half dragged the Scotsman toward the empty room.
Beckett struggled to get his feet under him while he was unceremoniously pulled forward.
"Come on Carson," Rodney's panicked impatience had the doctor scrambling the best he could to regain his elusive footing.
"Get in!" McKay shoved Beckett forward, mimicking Carson's earlier move.
Carson hit the ground and rolled onto his side trying to shove himself to his feet while peering over his shoulder.
He watched dazed as McKay entered the room and slapped the door control. The door began sliding closed. McKay kept his hands on the door trying to hurry it along.
They had tried hiding behind a closed door before and it didn't work. Beckett lurched his way to his feet, slamming into another lab work table. Was the majority of Atlantis geared toward research? The doctor knocked into supplies sending glass and flasks skittering off the table top and shattering to the floor.
Beckett pulled himself upward and began searching frantically for anything familiar that could be used as defense.
McKay still stood at the door trying to pull it closed faster. Something was wrong with it. It was shutting too slowly.
Carson's fickle vision landed on a small device that he knew to mimic the ancient's version of a lighter. It took two attempts before he could manage to grab what he was staring at. He then scanned the room looking for the second ingredient of his forming plan of defense.
He saw it, and staggered his way toward a canister that contained a propellant much like what he used to use as a kid back home. With his makeshift weapon in hand, he tottered, bouncing into the workbench as he weaved his way toward the door where McKay still stood.
"Rodney." Beckett slipped and lost his balance. He slid to the floor catching his elbow on the table and halting his complete fall to the ground. He stared at Rodney trying to understand what the Astrophysicist was doing.
The door was closing much too slow for Beckett's liking, much too slow for McKay to be still standing square to the entrance, trying to force it to close quicker.
Move Rodney, Beckett's mind screamed. Move.
McKay suddenly backed from the closing door dropping his hands to his abdomen.
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"Get away from the damn door!" Sheppard shouted at the screen, "McKay!"
"I don't think he can hear you," Teyla pointed out.
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Beckett watched, blinking slowly, trying to get his mind to focus. He thought McKay had finally decided to step away.
He thought McKay had stepped back voluntarily, had developed a practical sense of survival.
He watched as McKay slowly turned toward him, eyes wide, belly arched inward, with hands clasping tightly at his lower midsection.
Carson read and understood the body language long before he saw the actual bleeding wound.
Blood trickled thickly with building momentum between McKay's clenched fingers.
He saw the blind terror and disbelief in Rodney's eyes, long before he recognized the door stop sliding close and slowly slide open as black clawed hands edged it back.
Beckett found himself moving past McKay, spray canister held in front of him and lighter extended. He flashed the lighter initiating a flame and then sprayed it with the canister. A ball of flame shot out with a tiny roar all its own, lengthening into a tongue and then a constant stream, coating the black forearm and clawed hand with dancing blue flames. The heat intensified turning the flame from flickering blue to red to a rolling light yellow.
The creature bellowed.
Carson continued to hold the flame and spray the canister, realizing if he held the two too long then they would likely explode and probably remove one of his hands.
The dark exoskeleton bubbled and boiled. Blood snapped and hissed as scales gave way and curled back. He drew blood from countless wounds and noted, somewhere in the back of his mind the blood was brown, chocolate brown. Methemoglobinemia? Oxidative stress? Oxidative poisoning? Perhaps an enzyme deficiency. Possibilities ran rampart through his mind as he sent flames repeatedly into the clawed hands that struggled to open the door.
The blistered arm disappeared, leaving smudges on the door and small puddles on the ground. The door slid closed, settling in its niche.
Beckett leaned his head against the wall beside the door catching his breath, trying to catch his balance and wishing his heart would quit racing.
He stared at the dark blood on the ground. The creature shouldn't have bled. The flames should have cauterized the vessels as it baked the exoskeleton. What type of monster were they dealing with?
A quiet voice broke his self indulgent curiosity.
"Um, Carson?"
Beckett snapped his head up and turned toward McKay who stood awkwardly as if afraid to move. "Oh God, Rodney." Beckett dropped his little armament of defense and tried to walk a straight line to McKay.
"Thought the plan was for you to run," McKay muttered and gasped in pain as Beckett lowered him onto the floor, supporting his head as the doctor gently eased him down.
"Aye, I did," Carson answered forcing a smile to his face as he lifted Rodney's black shirt away from the wound. The material peeled back. McKay sucked in a breath as his hands flashed toward his abdomen.
Beckett absently deflected them. "Easy lad," he stated, keeping his voice at a level tone despite the gaping puncture wound that tore a violent, jaggered wound through McKay's lower abdominal quadrant. Blood oozed from the wound, percolating slowly, holding the promise that major blood vessels had been missed. Carson looked up and searched the room which was lighted only by a single hand held flashlight.
He needed bandages. He needed to be sure the bleeding wouldn't get worse.
"You were supposed to run the other way," McKay pointed out.
"Oh, well," Carson fumbled for an answer as his mind flashed through a mental picture of what he had seen in this room already that could be used to help McKay. "I've never been much good with directions."
"You and the colonel," McKay stammered out, gasping as another wave of pain rolled through him.
"I'm not that bad, lad," Carson defended himself, "The major would get lost in his own room.
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"Colonel," Sheppard corrected, "and I'm not bad with directions."
Teyla and Ronan both raised single eyebrows at the Colonel.