WINTER WONDERLAND
By NotTasha
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CHAPTER 15: BONGOS
"What?" McKay asked, trying to look out of his hole. "What's going on?"
"Shhhh!" Sheppard tried again, twisting to look over his shoulder. The creature was huge, looming over him, with a head as big as a kiddy-pool and a big rubbery nose that couldn't really be called a trunk. Its eyes, looking too small for its massive head, blinked at him. Its legs were like tree trunks and its long stringy hair hung almost to the ground. It looked like a weird mix of elephant and bison, but bigger than both put together. The damn thing was as big as a house.
At that moment, Sheppard was struck by the realization that the creature didn't stink. Funny, he would have believed something as big and hairy as that would reek to high heaven. But, the breath that steamed him could have been a hell of a lot worse. The warmth it gave off wasn't half bad.
It shifted, lifting one leg and then settling it down with a muffled thump. It blinked and let out another snort.
"Oh God…" McKay groaned, finally angling his head so he could see around Sheppard. He winced, and then stated bluntly, "I thought you were supposed to be watching out!"
"I was trying, but you kept distracting me," Sheppard said through his teeth, feeling miserable as hell for letting this happen. Crap! What the hell was the matter with him! He looked in disbelief as several more of the creatures wandered near them. They moved almost silently, their big feet making little more than a quiet 'whump' against the snow.
"Something that big got this close to us?" McKay went on in a low voice.
"Kinda snuck up on me."
"How does something that enormous sneak?"
"They tip toe," Sheppard answered quietly, his gaze on the creature as his hand felt for his P90. The tapa's eyes were big and black, looking as shiny as freshly polished shoes. Something dripped from its nose, freezing in the hair around its nostrils.
"What do we do?" McKay whispered beseechingly.
"Like I've been sayin'," Sheppard hissed. "We keep still and we keep quiet. He's gonna think we're not worth his time and they're all going to move off."
"They? All? There's more than one?" Panic tinged the hushed response.
"Keep quiet. Keep still," Sheppard reiterated, watching the thing as it turned its huge head to look at him with one eye. It blew more warm air on him, looking docile and dumb. "Just checking us out," John said softly. His radio crackled. Ford's voice was unintelligible. "See, he doesn't mean us any harm. Just wants to see…"
His voice trailed off as the demeanor of the creature suddenly changed. Its lethargic movements were replaced as its head jerked to one side, and it sidestepped, turning quickly. It was like being on a street corner when a bus came around too quickly.
Protectively, Sheppard threw himself over McKay as the thing wheeled, its big feet coming down far too close for comfort.
McKay wheezed as Sheppard's weight pressed on him. "What? What's happening?" he demanded to know, frantically trying to see.
There were at least six tapas, and all of them started following the lead of the first – turning about and forming into a loose circle.
John picked up a sound – the roar of approaching snow-skids. He lifted his head, at first marveling that the Ekukians were coming to their rescue. The Ekukians riding in to save them! But reality struck him as he noted the guns mounted on the skids – and he realized the reason they were storming in.
"Bastards!" he growled between gritted teeth, as a clump struck his shoulder. The snow creaked and groaned above that ledge. It was as if the whole world was sighing.
He could hear the baying of the itnas, and beneath him McKay cringed, looking up with that horrified expression. "Those dogs are coming?" he whispered harshly.
God, the damn devil dogs were the least of their worries! John returned his attention to the closest of the mammoths. Its attention was on the approaching skids. If the thing were to jerk to one side in escape, they'd be pounded to paste. Quickly, Sheppard debated whether he could chance moving McKay out of the way. Getting up and drawing attention to themselves might be the worst thing to do in this situation. The tapa was already mad – if it were to see them in motion…
The itnas had reached the tapas – and started darting about them, yipping and yowling, leaping and snapping, laughing that horrible hyena cackle. And then, mammoths started crying – trumpeting – blatting – blaring like off-key car horns. Clots of snow came down on Sheppard's head and back as he crouched over McKay.
"Hey!" Rodney cried when a chuck of icy snow struck him.
The lead tapa stomped its forefeet aggressively as the Ekukians came nearer. The other tapas took up the action of the first – and they beat the ground as if it were a bongo. Between their trumpeting and pounding, the sound was nearly deafening.
Everything shook. Sheppard chanced looking away from the spectacle – up – up at the layer of snow. It vibrated – chunks of snow were showering as the upper level shifted. Above his head – the sound of crumbling, breaking, sliding snow. Oh, God – this wasn't going to be good.
It was all coming down.
No time to think – only react – Sheppard shifted his position, pulled McKay into a sitting position. Then, grasping him under his shoulders, Sheppard frantically pulled the physicist backward, toward the hillside. If Rodney made a sound, Sheppard didn't hear it. He was yanking for all he was worth – the snow beneath his feet giving no traction.
The rumbling roaring of falling snow mixed with the beat and the trumpet of the tapas, and underneath it the chatter of the snow skids and wicked laughter of the itnas. He kicked and drove his feet into the snow, sending up a shower of white, even as white came down on them. Hardly knowing how he managed it, he tugged the physicist, pulling for all he was worth. His aching knee hardly mattered. The noise filled his head, pushing out all other thoughts except, "Get the HELL out of here!"
Suddenly, his back slammed against the rock. He let out an 'oof', and yanked McKay closer to him as the whole world came down on them – first white – and then everything went black.
CHAPTER 16: WORDLESS
Ford went into motion, leaping into the last seat on Karluk's skid and demanding they stop the other Ekukians. Karluk gamely attempted to comply.
Leaning to see around the two men, Ford tried to pinpoint where he'd left Sheppard with McKay. Damn it! If he were right, that big elephant-thing was right above them – almost on top of them.
All six of the creatures were moving, swaying to-and-fro as if trying to gauge the predators that were attacking them. Then, as the closest skids came near, the creatures started bawling – a hoarse blaring sound like a trumpet played too hard when the mute was in its bell – a harsh 'blat' that he felt reverberating in his sternum. Then they started pounding their feet.
The weird, white, devil dogs had outrun the skids and were darting around, in and about the huge elephant creatures. The tapas seemed determined to smash the itnas into the snow. He held on as Karluk gunned the engine.
His attention riveted on the enormous tapas, Ford didn't even see it until it was almost too late. There was a whoosh and then a horrible rumble, and Ford turned in time to see the wall of snow give way. It came down like thunder, like a freight train. He let out a shout, his voice joining the ruckus – the blaring of the tapas, the yowling of the itnas, the high whine of the skids, the rumble of the avalanche.
He was too late. He could only hold onto the handgrips as it came down – all of it – a wall of snow sloughing from the hill, tumbling, falling, pounding into the valley floor, obliterating everything in its path.
The tapas reared up. They leapt and fought against the surging snow like salmon running upriver. The majority of the devil dogs didn't stand a chance. The white wash of snow clobbered them, turning and tossing them – snout over tail – consuming them.
The skid drivers made wild turns, attempting to outrun it or avoid it. Two of the machines got caught up in the falling mess. One driver managed to get his skid up on top of the flow, only to be bowled over seconds later. The other managed to turn away, but was clipped by the falling balls of snow and sent tumbling.
A couple of the mammoths were nearly knocked down by the force of the avalanche, but managed to keep their footing. They ran – and ran – until they'd outrun the worst of it – and they kept running – bleating and bawling and escaping.
In a few seconds it was over. Ford was left, clinging still to the vibrating snow-skid, his gloved hands clutching the handgrips until he lost feeling in them, wordlessly shouting.
For there were no words to express what he felt.
A/N: Okay… so now that I've done all that – I'll leave you for the day. And there'll be more tomorrow! I promise!