(And this one's my favorite. It's a little long for one chapter, but I didn't have the heart to break it up)
FAILURE TO COMMUNICATE
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: BEST LAID PLANS
——————————————————————
Teyla sensed them before she saw them, and, with a vicious wrench, managed to send the meener in a different direction.
Behind her, Travis was about to call a question as to why she'd changed direction when he heard the shouting.
Wide eyed, the doctor looked over his shoulder to his left…and saw a group of men on horseback, bearing down on them. They were the ones shouting. He could easily make out their demands to "stop!"
Oh crap, Travis thought, pulling out his 9MM and releasing the safety, this isn't good.
Behind the doctor, Ronon risked letting one hand go from its tight grip on his reins and pointed his weapon in the direction of the guardsmen. The shot went crazily wild, exploding into a tree about five feet from the nearest man. Still the power of the weapon was not lost on the guardsmen, and they slowed a little in caution.
The three escapees pressed on deeper into the woods.
——————————————————————
The speedwheel exploded into the small clearing before the shack, careening on an angle and skidding to a stop just feet from the front door, mud flying everywhere. Elizabeth practically fell off the back, just grateful not to be moving. Sheppard kicked the stand and jumped off, barely looking at her as he charged into the structure.
Still not quite having her legs under her, she followed him in, her eyes looking around the simple rustic main room. With the eye of one who had spent many summers camping with her family, she noted the still dying embers in the fireplace and the slightly off center placement of the chairs, as if someone had spent the night sleeping in front of it. She could also tell they'd probably been gone for hours.
Sheppard was in the backroom, staring down at the empty cot. Turning, he looked at her—he almost looked betrayed.
"Are you sure this is the place?" she asked softly.
Sheppard didn't answer, storming back out of the room, his eyes examining it for evidence of McKay's having been here. With a growl when he wasn't successful, he stormed past Elizabeth to the outside, looking over the grounds.
Elizabeth sighed and walked over to the fireplace, tilting her head to look at the embers.
"Oh," she whispered, spotting something that had been burned that was obviously not wood. She grabbed a poker from next to the fire and, kneeling, moved the embers about until the object was revealed.
Part of a bandage. A blood soaked bandage. Military issue.
With a sigh, she stood up, replaced the poker, and headed outside to find John.
She found him standing about halfway across the clearing in the direction of the cart-track they had ridden in on. He was staring at the ground…at a mess of tar and oil.
"This is definitely the place," she informed him as she reached his side. "I found part of a bandage in the ashes."
Sheppard just nodded, accepting this. He had known already. The backroom, though it had been cleaned, had still smelled like blood. He just hadn't wanted to tell Elizabeth that. "This is odd," he said instead, gesturing at the ground.
Elizabeth studied it for a moment, then asked, "Did Connam have another vehicle of some kind stored on his wagon?"
"No," Sheppard answered. "At least," he frowned, "I don't think so."
"In any event," she sighed, looking around the clearing, "if they were here, they're not here now."
The colonel gave an irritated growl, and grabbed at his radio again.
"McKay," he snapped into the transmitter. "McKay! Rodney!" His eyes narrowed as he looked down the empty road, "Answer me, you son of a bitch. Why aren't you at Connam's shack? Where the hell are you!"
Elizabeth bit her lip, also staring down the same road.
"McKay!" John bellowed the name, letting it echo off the hills. "Damn it, Rodney, I know you can hear me! Respond!"
Weir closed her eyes, feeling the frustration and anger that rolled off Sheppard in waves.
He gripped the radio tighter. "I'm not letting you do this, you hear me?" he yelled into it. "You're not dying on me. We're here! Where the hell are you! Answer me!"
"Colonel!" Teyla's voice burst over the radio, causing both Sheppard and Elizabeth to jump. "Colonel, do you read me?" Her voice echoed and the sound was weak, but they could easily tell she was yelling on her end.
Sheppard put the radio to his lips again, "Teyla?"
"Colonel, we are in trouble. We…." She trailed off, and for a second, they could hear the faint sounds of gunfire. "We are being boxed in! We are going to try and…Ronon!"
"Teyla!" Sheppard met Elizabeth's wide eyes, matching the worried look in them with one of his own.
"Colonel," Teyla's voice was more faded now, "Ronon has been shot! Doctor Travis has his meener's reins, but I'm afraid we…."
And abruptly, the sound cut out.
They waited a second longer, then Sheppard raised the radio again. "Teyla?"
Silence was the only answer.
"Teyla!" he gripped the radio tightly, his eyes staring vaguely in the direction of the mountains on the far side of the valley. "Damn it!"
He lowered the radio, practically crushing the tough plastic in his grip, and turned his gaze to stare at the ground.
"They may just be out of range," Elizabeth tried, trying not to feel as useless as she did at that moment. She hadn't felt this out of control since the Wraith had attacked Atlantis.
Sheppard looked over at her, saw her waiting for him to tell her what to do. She was out of her element here.
"Come on," Sheppard said, pivoting on his heel and striding back towards the speedwheel.
She grimaced a little, but quickly ran to catch up. "Where are we going?"
"Well, I don't know where Teyla and the others are, but, if they're not already dead, they'll probably be taken back to the Citadel first, for a reckoning. So," he frowned, "we're going back there." He sat astride the bike and kicked up the stand, tilting it upright.
"What about Rodney?" Weir asked, sitting down behind him.
"I don't know where he is either. If I can't find him, I can't help him." Sheppard's jaw clenched.
"Perhaps we should still try to get to the Gate?" Elizabeth asked, flinching a little as the colonel started the motor.
"Just the two of us?" he said incredulously. "We'd never make it."
"Are you sure? What if there aren't that many guards?"
Sheppard looked at her over his shoulder, "If I thought it wouldn't be heavily guarded, I'd probably agree. But I have a feeling it will be. Me and you…we wouldn't stand a chance."
She sighed, "But we have a chance at rescuing the others?"
"Better than getting through the gate. We escaped from the Citadel once before," he got them moving, and Elizabeth tightened her arms around his waist, "we can do it again."
——————————————————————
Teyla grimaced, feeling like every muscle in her body had been ripped in half by the fall she had taken. One moment, she'd been talking to Sheppard on the radio, and then next her meener had thrown her, sending her flying into a bush. She was aware, as she mentally catalogued all the bruises, welts and sores on her body, that she was damn lucky she hadn't broken anything, but she knew she'd feel this hurt for a while.
If, that is, they weren't killed. In which case, she wouldn't be feeling it for long at all.
Travis grunted as he was slammed down onto his knees next to Teyla. He lifted his hands behind his head, imitating the posture they had forced Teyla into when they dragged her from the bush.
Part of Teyla wished he had ridden on—she was fairly certain he could have out-ridden the guardsmen—but the scientist clearly did not even consider it. Instead, he had immediately pulled up short, mouth agape, staring helplessly at Teyla as she crawled out of the bushes she'd been thrown into. She regretted his timidity, but could not fault it. He was not a soldier.
"You okay?" he asked her softly, trying to see her face through the thick, leaf strewn hair covering it.
She just offered him a fierce look and then focused on not throwing up.
Ronon was dumped next to Travis, and the scientist instinctively moved to try and help the semi-conscious man. The guards had gotten damn lucky, creasing the former runner's skull with a bullet--it was probably the only place they could have hit the man and incapacitated him without killing him outright. Of course, Ronon was probably even more lucky…he wasn't dead.
"Don't move," a guard growled at Travis, "get your hands back on your head."
"But he needs help," the scientist pleaded. "Please, let me just—"
"Did I say you could speak?" the guard asked, crouching down to stare at Travis nose to nose.
Travis may not have been field trained, but he wasn't stupid. He shook his head to say no.
"Good. Now, about your friend," the guard stood up and walked over to Ronon. "I'm afraid he won't be getting any medical help anytime soon. The best I can offer him is a new necktie. In fact," he smiled back at Travis, "I think Commander Chanee is looking forward to tying it on himself."
Travis winced, cowering a little as the huge man taunted him. Teyla watched it all out of the corner of her eye, trying not to seem dangerous.
The guard walked back and knelt in front of the scientist again, "Now…where are the others?"
"I don't know," he whispered. The guard immediately slapped him, hard.
Travis's eyes watered in pain. Oh yeah, he was a long way from his cushy office when he was a patent attorney.
"Where are the others?" the guard asked again. This time, though, he withdrew a knife and pressed it against the underside of Teyla's chin.
Travis licked his lips, shaking his head. "No, please….We split up. They went a different way. I don't know where they are now. Please."
The guard's eyes narrowed, "Split up?"
"To try and throw you off, you know?" Travis explained. "In case one of us got caught. The others could still try and get to the Gate."
The guard watched him, then tilted his head, "In order to bring back help."
Travis nodded, "Yes."
Teyla had turned her head, and was staring unhappily at the babbling scientist. Secretly, though, she was impressed that Travis was managing to tell the guards nothing they probably had already guessed.
"So, what, they're on the other side of the valley?"
"I don't know," Travis begged. "Please, I don't. Probably, but I don't know."
The guard stared at the young man for a moment, then sighed. With a sneer, he lowered the knife from Teyla's neck and stood up. He stared at both Travis and her for a moment before looking at the other guards.
"Take them back to the Citadel," he ordered.
——————————————————————
"Hyah! Gee up!"
Connam tried to appear nonchalant as he rolled up to the troop guarding the Stargate. There had to be at least twenty or twenty five guardsmen here, patrolling the area around the ring. Several had their rifles trained on him as he nervously continued forward, snapping the whip to keep Dodge moving.
"Stop!" one of the guards ordered. "Hold it right there, trader!"
Connam swallowed, put on his best smile, and tugged on the reins to get Dodge to stop.
"Hey boys," he greeted, "What's going on?"
"Hands in the air," the same guard ordered, stepping closer, his rifle pointed at Connam's head. "Sir, there are no travelers being allowed through the Gate. You need to turn your wagon around...now."
——————————————————————
Elizabeth had her head buried again in John's back, her arms once more locked around his vest, and her mind praying up to whatever deities may be listening that they didn't die on this thing.
The speedwheel shot down the rutted road at a crazy speed, the rubber tires slipping and sliding, scarring the dirt-pack. Sheppard seemed to have no care at all as he hit dips and rises without slowing, sending them flying more times than Elizabeth could count. She was amazed they were still upright, and that her jarred bones hadn't been turned to jelly.
Suddenly, John swore and braked hard, sliding Elizabeth forward onto the seat into his back. The colonel put his foot to the ground and swiveled the rear of the bike around, mud and grass and rocks erupting in a spray behind them. Elizabeth looked up, turning her head to the side to see what had caused his change of direction.
"Oh God," she whispered, seeing the troop of guardsman on meeners barreling down the road in their direction. "What are we…."
She never got to finish the question as John suddenly roared the engine again and sent them flying sideways off the road into the woods over the wide drainage ditch. A scream was swallowed in her throat as, for a long stretch of a moment, she felt as if she were weightless.
Then the bike slammed painfully into the rolling ground, dead leaves flying everywhere, and shot forward, sliding in and out of trees like a skier on a slalom run. Elizabeth watched with wide eyes as behind them the horsemen changed course, the meeners they rode leaping gracefully off the road over the drainage ditch and after them.
The speedwheel's progress was slowed by the rougher terrain, as Sheppard was forced to go around fallen trees and large exposed roots and avoid potholes that would send them both flying to their deaths at this speed.
"Hang on!" he yelled unnecessarily, gunning the engine to even greater speeds and shooting them at an angle away from their pursuers.
But the terrain worked against them. They weren't traveling much faster than the meeners themselves now, and when Elizabeth looked behind her, she saw that the guardsmen were keeping up easily, the beasts they rode far more suited to this terrain and their knowledge of it much greater.
"CRAP!" Sheppard shouted, braking hard again and twisting the bike. Elizabeth felt herself lifted off the seat, but she somehow avoided losing it completely as Sheppard sent them flying at an almost ninety degree angle to their previous course. They were headed almost directly for the mountains now, straight up the side of the bowl of the valley.
More guardsmen had appeared in the woods in front of them, boiling out of the trees, yelling orders at them to stop. Where the hell were they all coming from?
Elizabeth was shaking now, her fingers numb where they held onto him for dear life, while, behind her, she heard the report of rifle-fire. A risked glance over her shoulder showed they were gaining.
"Go faster!" she screamed.
"I'm trying!" he shouted back, riding up what looked like a goat track, aiming to get over the small ridge he could see in front of them. He hoped to gain momentum on the other side, maybe even see a way out. He pushed the trembling bike for even more speed, fighting the wind and the steepening grade, until they exploded up over the ridge's edge.
And suddenly, the ground fell away. The ridge wasn't a ridge--it was the top of a massive, twelve foot high boulder that fell away abruptly like a cliff, and below was a thick, roiling mountain stream, rushing unevenly down towards the central river. They flew off of the rock, their height bringing them almost above the deciduous trees on the other side of the stream.
This time Elizabeth did scream. She couldn't stop it. Her voice just burst from her lungs, rising as she did, off the seat and into the open air.
Vaguely, she felt Sheppard's vest leave her fingers as she lost her hold, but nothing else seemed tangible as the world became a blurred cascade of colors. They came down fast and hard from their impressive leap, gravity driving them towards the ground with seemingly impossible force.
The bike hit the earth on the far side of the stream, bounced twice, fell on its side and crashed seat first into a tree. The engine died with a fit and a sputter, the wheels spinning uselessly in their sockets.
Sheppard and Elizabeth both landed on the soft dirt and meadow-thick grass on the far side of the stream, rolling sideways with the momentum of their fall--Sheppard towards the speedwheel and Elizabeth in the other direction.
Groaning and in pain, Sheppard somehow managed to get back to his feet almost immediately, scrambling half crouched up the soft stream bank, reaching for the speedwheel. He grabbed the handlebars and lifted it up with a yell of desperation, feeling every muscle in his body screaming at him, then turned to look behind him.
Elizabeth was sitting up, trying gamely to get to her feet despite shaking so hard she thought she would split in two. Tears ran down her mud-caked face as she looked back at Sheppard, then turned to look up behind her at the top of the boulder they'd just leapt off from. When she finally got her feet under her, she was cradling her arm to her chest, and blood ran down from a nasty graze on her right leg.
The ground shook and trembled, and, in moments, guardsmen were stopped atop the rock, staring down at them.
Sheppard gamely tried to get the speedwheel's engine to turn over, but it just spluttered and died.
He stopped trying when he looked up to find more guardsmen on horses in front of him, rifles raised.
"Twisted and trapped," he whispered, Rodney's all too prophetic words coming back to him.
God he hated it when Rodney was right.
——————————————————————
TBC...Yeah...I enjoyed writing that! Can you tell? LOL! I love that speedwheel!