Chapter 3: Run Like Hell
"Wraith?" asked Major Andrews, a puzzled look on his face.
"Nasty aliens that will literally suck the life and soul out of you," shivered McKay.
"Ruach," I couldn't help but add. Seeing a few puzzled looks, "Hebrew. Means Breath/life/Soul." I shrugged.
"They have destroyed many of the civilizations here," added Teyla.
"We've been at war with them and we don't need them to find us. Luckily it looks like there's only a half dozen, on foot. That still might make getting to he gate difficult…" Sheppard continued.
I looked over the landscape and an idea began forming in my mind. It was one of my risky, spur of the moment plans, but it would buy everyone time and perhaps myself a little credibility. Considering what I fled from and what I could be facing, I felt I had nothing to lose. I took off my pack and jacket, then knelt and unlaced my boots, pulling them off along with my socks, wincing a little at the scent. No laundry service for a while is not fun to experience for the nose. I had a brief thought of picking up tetanus from the ground, but if I was going to pull off what I wanted to, I needed sure footing and I could best trust myself barefoot
"What are you doing?" asked Lorne as he noticed, or more likely smelled the socks and boots on the ground.
"I can help. I just need to lighten my load and oh, I'll need a couple grenades if you have them. Or something explosive."
"What are you planning?" Sheppard turned to me, not quite understanding.
"I'm bait. I figure I can distract them while you make a run for it. I figure if I can get them to follow down that ridge, I can trigger a rockslide halfway through. That should slow them down. I don't wear your uniform," I added as I looked at my filthy fatigues and T-shirt.
I still got a couple skeptical looks. "Anyone have a better idea? If you have any doubts, ask Andrews about my running ability." They must seen the look in my eyes – something fierce and primal – that ended any protests, or maybe they figured I was crazy, anyway if I didn't make, I was one less explanation.
I was handed two grenades as Major Andrews picked up the things I dropped. I pulled the pins, which I handed to Sheppard. Teyla was giving me an odd expression – a mix of concern and understanding. McKay looked nervous.
"Go," I said. "Either on my shield or without it," I added, as I took off in the direction Sheppard had indicated. Everyone else started running towards the gate.
I wasn't sure if I'd have to yell to get the attention of the Wraith, but they noticed me soon enough. Good God, they were the stuff of nightmares from my childhood – the ghost stories my grandmother used to tell seemed pretty tame in comparison. I must have been the biggest idiot in this galaxy, maybe two galaxies to do what I have volunteered to do. I pushed fear aside and concentrated on leading them a ridge and down the rocky path. For a few moments snatches of the mixes I used to run to, "Eye of the Tiger, Run Like Hell, Born to Run, Big Gun," flittered through my brain. I'd be singing along, off-key if I could, but all I could think about was a certain point down the ridge
"Relax, I told myself, you're back home, just going for a fast run over the Armstrong's hills." I felt rocks and branches scratch at my feet, as I half ran, half slid, but that was the least of my worries. Despite what I thought was a fast pace, the Wraith were gaining. Damn. I looked behind me and lobbed the first grenade. A moment later I heard a growing cascade of rocks and plenty of what I assumed was cursing. "Thanks, Da for the lessons on explosives and triggering cave-ins," I thought. I had managed to lose all but one of the Wraith in the chaos. Unfortunately the one remaining appeared to be armed. Heavily armed
I finished racing down the hill and looked at the Gate, which was open. I could see figures rushing through. Good. I concentrated on crossing the grassy plain as fast as possible, aware that I was in the open. For a second, I convinced myself I wasn't in the fields of my hometown, pounding out the miles in the plan to escape. A sudden weapons burst, too close for comfort, reminded me where I really was. I dug deep, deep in that well of complete desperation and ran faster than I thought possible or perhaps ever had. "Please don't let me trip," I thought as I hit the steps to the Gate.
Suddenly I was in a large room, comically skidding across hard floors, remembering to clear the perimeter of the ring, and heard some sort of slam, followed by a couple of thumps.
I looked around to see two dozen or so people, looking expectantly at me. I suddenly felt very self-conscious, I was muddy, bloody, sweaty, my hair working its way out of its braid, and panting raggedly, with a grenade still clenched in a fist white with tension. The look on Andrews's face made me want to laugh, or a least smile. Somehow I could read that he found me transposed as some sort of Celtic warrior. I think there may have been several others thinking that as well, but the look on most faces was of either disbelief or concern
"Well, Randall, I think you were a little off your best pace, but I think that can be forgiven under the circumstances. I might have to take those legends of Highland fighters a little more seriously," he grinned.
"Yeah, well, you're forgetting who saved civilization…" I started before a coughing fit overtook me and I bent over with the effort. "
"Easy lass." Hands put a blanket around me, pulled me upright, pushed an oxygen mask against my face, as I struggled to catch my breath and control my racing heart. I pushed it aside, fighting, adrenaline still coursing through my veins.
"I think this belongs to someone." I held the grenade straight out, blanket falling from one shoulder. Strong hands curled over mine, removing the grenade, keeping the firing mechanism in place.
"I've got it, " one of the marines said. "What the heck were you planning…" his voice trailed off as he realized the answer. If needed, I'd buy time with my life. Besides, I still didn't like the idea of not being at the top of the food chain.
The realization of what I'd done hit me, as exhaustion set in and the flood of adrenaline receded. The room seemed to spin and the floor appeared to be approaching a lot faster than it should. Strong hands caught me, the mask more insistent this time and I greedily gulped the air as I was helped to a gurney, like a sleepy child.
"Just relax lass," spoke a doctor next me. His Scottish lilt had a soothing tone to it and his eyes were kind. "You've done enough fighting for a while.
The exhaustion receded for a moment as I realized the new situation I was in. Just because I was in Atlantis didn't mean anything, yet. Vague memories of numerous tests, pain, screams and silence floated unbidden to the surface. I tried to sit up, to stand, to run again if necessary. As much as I wanted to, I still wasn't completely sure I could trust everyone, despite putting my life on the line for these people.
A tall dark-haired woman strode into my field of view. I'm Dr. Elizabeth Weir. Don't worry, you're safe here. Dr. Beckett and his team will take good care of you." She noticed me shudder involuntarily, and as if to reassure me, squeezed my hand. "We won't do anything to you, without your consent. Major Andrews told me about Dr. Lowell." I relaxed slightly. "You know the drill, people," she continued to the crowd, "Colonel, you and your team report to the infirmary. We'll conference in an hour."
There were a few protests from the voice I identified as McKay. A tall bald man in an officer's uniform spoke, somewhat sarcastically, "This will be an interesting meeting. And what about our renegades? When will you debrief them?"
When," started Dr. Weir.
"When I say so," finished Dr. Beckett. "They're both in shock, especially the lass, I don't think a Q&A session is in either of their best interest." I think I could like the guy already, even if he was a doctor.