FAILURE TO COMMUNICATE
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE GREAT ESCAPE
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They shook hands as they parted, both Ronon and Teyla having gotten into the habit by spending so much time around the folks from Earth, and Elizabeth hugged Travis.
"Think you've got the lay of the land?" Sheppard asked Teyla, watching as she mounted her meener with a grace the belied her discomfort. Behind her, Ronon was a little less graceful, and he also seemed to be a little too large for the beast he was riding, despite having chosen the largest one, but at least he got up there. Travis practically leapt into his saddle, the only one truly at ease.
"We won't get lost," Teyla promised, nodding down at the colonel. "It took us nearly eight hours to travel the distance on the way to Garillion, but I believe I can save us a good deal of time by cutting across the countryside. I hope to have us at the Gate in less than six hours." She smiled then and reached down, and he clasped her hand. "Take care of Doctor McKay," she said softly.
"I will," he promised. "We'll be waiting."
Teyla smiled, then tugged her meener around and nodded to Travis. The doctor had been giving them some horsemanship advice, but there was little else he could do now except keep watch on them. With a single deep breath, Teyla kicked her horse into action and took off, lifting herself up in the saddle as she'd been told, and taking the lead. Travis and Ronon quickly followed, and soon all three were lost in the thick trees.
"Right," Sheppard said, walking over to his meener, "our turn."
Elizabeth gave a great sigh, looking up at the horse in front of her as if looking up at the gallows. "How far to the speedwheel?"
"Not far from where I purchased these. A few miles. We'll send them home when we get there."
She gave another sigh, then, after a few aborted attempts, managed to get up into the saddle. Following John's lead, they were soon loping their way in a more northerly direction. He picked up speed, and, after perhaps only about twenty minutes or so, he was pulling rein.
Elizabeth was grateful, sliding off her horse and watching as he smacked the rumps of both beasts and sent them trotting away into the woods. With a smile to her, he stepped off the "road" into the forest and reached into a fairly dense bit of vegetation. With a grunt, he pulled out the motorcycle from its hiding place.
Weir's lips parted. Even knowing about it in advance, it still seemed amazing to see something so familiar looking. Sheppard pushed it back up onto the road then sat down on it.
"Get on," he ordered. She didn't need to be told twice. Settling in behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head against his back. "Hold on," he said unnecessarily as the engine roared to life.
Elizabeth emitted a tiny peep as the speedwheel lurched and then burst into speed, sending them flying down the dirt road, churning up mud and gravel in their wake.
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McKay wasn't sure when he fell. He just ended up on the ground, half lying on his side, feeling the discomfort of his pack awkwardly sticking into his ribs and back. He had been trying to find a fairly sheltered place to settle down—but apparently his body decided right out in the open, on a bed of wet, dirty leaves, and halfway up an uphill slant, was good enough.
With a grunt, he managed to get the pack out from under him and somehow managed to keep most of the blanket in place. Without the boiling heat of the engine at his back, his body temperature seemed to plummet, though he could feel heat radiating beneath the bandage on his stomach. He couldn't understand how he could be both freezing and hot at the same time.
He settled more on his side, adjusting to the rocks and sticks and leaves under him, and curled into a ball, cocooning himself in the blanket. The radio he held close to his chin, as a child would a stuffed toy.
And, with a sigh, he closed his eyes and let the world slip away.
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Connam slowed, recognizing the landmarks around him with a keen eye. Pulling to the side, he knew he'd be on the main road running along the length of the valley in a couple of miles, then it was just another ten miles or so to the Gate. He'd love to drive all the way up to it, but did not want to push the engine nor draw too much attention to himself.
With a grimace, he shut the engine off and climbed down. It took him a few minutes, but he managed to wrestle the steering column free and carried it around to store in the back. He could feel the heat rising off the wagon as he circled it, just as he felt the stickiness of his shirt sticking to his back. Even the cool weather of the morning in the valley wasn't helping.
The sun had finally reached the valley floor, flooding everything in a golden glow. The forest seemed less menacing, the shadows less frightening. The bells had stopped ringing as well, their message delivered, and, for a moment, Connam felt pretty good with his life.
Coming around the back of the wagon, he stopped when he smelt the mess.
Dodge turned her huge head and looked at him balefully.
She really hadn't liked the ride, and had let him know in her own special way.
"Lights above, Dodge," he muttered, backing away from the smell, "Was this absolutely necessary?"
If possible, the dram appeared chagrined. Connam sighed, shaking his head and bravely stepping forward again.
"You're making up for this," he warned her, gingerly undoing the straps across the back of the wagon, touching the dripping material as little as possible. "You so are. You get a free ride, and how do you repay me?"
With a sigh, he climbed inside, dodging the mess, and pulled her out.
She jumped out joyfully, shaking and prancing and ready to move.
"Your parents were so much better behaved," he chastised, grabbing at her reins and pulling her around the front.
As soon as he had her hooked up, he grabbed a broom and swept as much of the back as he could. At the very least, it would stop the guards at the Gate from looking too carefully.
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Travis called a few extra comments from time to time, trying to help Teyla and Ronon as they kept up their breakneck pace. Teyla continued to lead, gritting her teeth and trying to both steer her meener and not fall off at the same time…which turned out to be an all encompassing job. The meener itself seemed to care very little about the small woman on its back, even though it responded to her constant press for more speed. She was fairly sure it'd throw her off at the first sign of trouble, which wasn't encouraging.
Ronon appeared a little more comfortable, but not by much. His ability to intimidate people apparently didn't translate to ram-horned meeners.
In the end, both amateurs were relying mostly on Travis to watch the woods for danger.
Teyla just hoped their speed would make up for their inability to scout.
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Sheppard gunned the motor on the speedwheel, barely aware of Elizabeth's white-knuckled grip on his vest, intent only on getting them to that cleft in the rocks as soon as possible. The speedwheel screamed around corners, skidding on the loose rocks and wet grass, exploding over every dead branch and stick in the road, and leaving kindling in its wake. And still he pushed it to go faster.
He had to get to McKay.
"Can you use the radio?" he yelled back at Weir.
She gave a small whimper. She was terrified of letting go. John's control of the speedwheel seemed tentative at best, and she had begun to think that, perhaps, the meeners were not so bad…
"Elizabeth?" he yelled again.
"I…," she steeled herself, and reached up to grab the radio on his shoulder. Just then, they hit a fairly hard bump, causing them to be airborne for a few seconds, and Weir's hands renewed their grip on the vest. She was amazed she didn't scream. Or maybe she did, and she just didn't remember.
She was in hell.
"Elizabeth! The radio!" Sheppard yelled again.
"Yes, yes," she replied, mostly to herself, trying not to focus on the scenery blurring dizzyingly past or the burning rubber smell of the pushed to the limit motorcycle. She reached up with her hand again, for the radio on his shoulder. When she couldn't loosen it from its pocket, partly because she was afraid she'd drop it, she shook her head and yelled back, "No. I can't reach it!"
"Try!"
"You're going too fast!"
Sheppard glowered, but slowed. Elizabeth felt the change of pace with relief and, as soon as she felt more secure, she reached to grab the radio again. This time, she was successful. Pulling one arm free of its almost chokehold on the colonel, she lifted the radio to her mouth and hit the talk button. Her arm shook—she hadn't realized just how scared she was until the adrenaline hit.
"Rodney!" she yelled into the radio, trying to be heard over the noise of the engine. "Rodney, can you hear me? This is Weir! Please respond!"
She released her hold on the talk button and pressed the radio to her ear. Static answered her. Frowning, she tried again.
"Rodney!"
"Try Connam," Sheppard said.
"Connam!" she yelled into the radio. "Connam! Please respond! If you can hear me, please respond!"
Again, nothing but static.
Her heart felt like a stone inside her chest, and she tried once more. "RODNEY!"
The silence on the other end felt like a censure.
She leaned into John, talking right into his ear. "Are we still too far away?"
Sheppard grimaced, but didn't answer that question. Instead, he shouted, "Just hang on to it. We'll try again in a bit!"
"How far are we?" she yelled.
"We'll be there in an half an hour!" he yelled back. "Just hang on!"
And Elizabeth yelped as he once more gunned the engine, sending them hurtling down the road once more.
She was using every calming trick in her arsenal to stop herself from thinking that he was going to kill them both on this thing.
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The radio burst to life in Rodney's hands, and Elizabeth's shout came through despite the heavy static.
"Rodney!" she sounded impossibly far away. "Rodney, can you hear me? This is Weir! Please respond!"
The fingers wrapped around the black transmitter didn't move.
"Rodney!"
The eyelids didn't shift. The long lashes never lifted.
"Connam! Connam! Please respond! If you can hear me, please respond!"
Near Rodney's head, a small vole like animal stuck its head out of a hole in the ground, and sniffed at the unconscious man lying there. The man was breathing very shallowly, but otherwise didn't move at all.
"RODNEY!"
But he was beyond hearing.
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TBC...