WINTER WONDERLAND
By NotTasha
Okay... okay... one more section for today...
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CHAPTER 22: GETTING IN

Markham had been firing into the mass of fallen snow, trying to clear out the bulk of what lay near the cliff – and at the same time being careful of melting too much, too fast. He didn't want to drown the major or the doctor in the runoff.

Mostly, the snow had vaporized under attack by the 'blaster'. He wasn't sure what to call that particular weapon. He'd simply wished up a beam that gave off a lot of heat – and that's what the puddlejumper provided him with. It was pretty damn insightful, he decided, and he felt a certain amount of pride in his ability to make this work.

There'd be a bright flash – and a red beam drove into the snow – followed by a tremendous cloud and a hiss. Ford, Teyla and Stackhouse had already dropped their hats and gloves, unbuttoned their jackets and were sweating from the blasts of heat that were coming from the process. He was creating quite a sauna. Markham felt a little bad for them -- but was glad it was them, and not him.

The radio crackled to life again. "I think you're almost to us," the major declared. "We're in a bit of a depression, under a ledge. I can see daylight through the snow."

"Markham!" Ford shouted from his position outside of the craft. "Get that scanner out here."

The sergeant scrambled to follow, getting out of the pilot's seat and holding the device in front of him. He walked immediately through the channel he'd dug, zeroing in on the dot until he reached a wall of ice that encased the cliff. "Should be here," he stated.

Ford nodded at this news, then cupped his hands around his mouth to shout, "Major Sheppard! Dr. McKay!" His voice held a raspy quality to it, and Markham wondered if it would penetrate through to where their people were trapped.

Markham kept the scanner out, watching the dot. They were still several feet away. He glanced back at the jumper and wondered if he should try carving out any further snow with the blaster – but thought better of it. Now, so close, even with his delicate touch, he might end up singeing some parts off of Sheppard and McKay.

"Major Sheppard!" Ford called again, leaning toward the snow that kept them from his teammates.

Suddenly, over the radio, a voice stated, "I can hear you, Ford. You're just about on top of us."

Ford dropped to his knees, and thumped at the surface with his fist.

"I sure hope that's you, Lieutenant," a voice sounded in his ear, and Ford grinned in relief. "Don't want to deal with any salespeople at my door right now."

Grinning, Ford shouted at the ice, "It's us, sir!"

"Get us out of here, now! McKay has a head wound. He's stopped responding." There was a pause as if Sheppard expected something. "Why can't you prove me wrong?" they heard Sheppard curse under his breath, and then in a raised voice. "Hurry it up!"

Ford nodded. "Let's do it."

Behind them, Stackhouse handed out the shovels, and all three men lifted the tools at once, bringing them down with a bone-jarring rattle, as the shovels clattered upon the rock-hard ice.

"Aw hell," Markham muttered, raising the shovel and again to bring it down with greater force. The shiny, ice crusted surface easily deflected the assault. Now, all the pride he'd felt in melting away the snow had fallen into frustration. The vaporization of the snow had also created a thick layer of ice – hard as stone.

"What's going on?" Sheppard asked over the radio. "I can hear you making a racket up there."

"Sir," Ford shouted, hoping his voice carried through. "We've got a problem."

It was then that Karluk appeared beside them, toting ice axes. "This should work better," he explained.

And they went to work. Every inch gained was hard earned – and they chipped and chopped – forcing their way through the ice.

Too caught up with the task, Ford didn't realize his danger until it was too late. He was whaling away at the ice, swinging the axe with all his might, when suddenly the ice gave way beneath him. Markham lurched, diving to grab Aiden's legs, as Stackhouse jerked forward, catching hold of Ford before he disappeared into the hole.

For a second, they were all in motion, sliding on the slick surface. Stackhouse managed to stop Ford, but Markham kept moving toward taking a header into the hole. Jabbing out with the axe, he drove it into the ice around them, and hung on for all he was worth. Ford tenaciously grabbed his sleeve.

Gasping in surprise, Markham stared upside-down at the little space in-between the snow and the stone. He drew in a breath, trying to calm his surprise, and stared down at Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay.

Their missing men were crammed into that spot, just below his head, Sheppard had his arm around McKay, who didn't lift his head from the major's shoulder. Sheppard grinned up at them as he brushed chunks of ice from Rodney.

"Markham," Sheppard greeted. "Ford, Stackhouse. You sure know how to make an entrance."

CHAPTER 23: GETTING OUT

Sheppard watched as the ice was quickly chipped away, as the hole above their head opened. "See," he said softly. "I told you." But McKay didn't respond and Sheppard was afraid to shake him. Stackhouse had tossed down emergency blankets -- and Sheppard had quickly worked the sheets around them, striving to capture any remaining warmth.

"It'll be just a few minutes and we'll get you out of here. Just got to hold on a bit longer. You'd better start waking up. I told you that I don't want to have to do all the work getting you out of here."

But Rodney's face was still. His breathing seemed shallow and slow. Sheppard adjusted the hat, glad to see that no further blood had appeared, but troubled just the same.

"Damn it, Rodney." As the hole continued to open above them, showering them with bits of ice, Sheppard worked off one of his gloves, and shoved his hand into the area around Rodney's neck. His hands, warm from the gloves, felt the chill of McKay's skin and sought out the heartbeat – finding it. He frowned when no complaint was registered for the mauling.

John wished he could tell if the pulse was too fast – or too slow – but he was glad that he could at least feel that steady beat. The blankets crinkled as he withdrew his hand. "We're getting you out," he promised softly. "Stay with me."

"Hey," Ford greeted once the hole had been sufficiently enlarged. He dropped down, finding barely enough room to crouch. "How's he doing?" he asked earnestly.

"He's cold." Sheppard sighed. "Still can't feel his legs. He whacked his head pretty good." And most reluctantly of all, he added, "I haven't been able to wake him up again."

Markham arrived with a backboard from the jumper. Sheppard helped where he could with strapping McKay in place. Getting Rodney out of the space with no unnecessary movements wasn't easy. There'd been discussion as to whether they should send for Beckett, but time was wasting and the planet was damn cold. In the end, they just had to trust that what they were doing was right.

Once McKay was pulled from the snowy hole, Sheppard followed, stiffly. He stepped clear, staggering for a moment as he put weight on his knee and tugging on his jacket. As the cold blasted him, he shuddered and tugged his collar up against his neck. He watched as Stackhouse, Markham, Teyla and Ford delicately lifted the backboard, keeping McKay as even as possible. Rodney, for his part, didn't move at all.

But they were out – finally out of that tomb.

Teyla had retrieved blankets, giving one to Sheppard as the other covered McKay. John he tugged it over his shoulders as the cold wind bit into him. He realized that he hadn't been lying to McKay. It had been sufficiently warmer inside that hole – out of the wind and warmed by their own body heat – the hole had been paradise compared to this climate.

This planet was too damn cold -- too frozen, too white. Looking about, Sheppard scowled at the icy surroundings. It really wasn't a wonderland at all, he decided. It was just one hellacious cold place.

He glanced around at the mounds of fallen snow – the avalanche that had come down. Through the middle of it, a channel had been carved. Sheppard knew that they would have been under all of this. It'd been damn close, Sheppard realized -- too damn close.

Cold. Bitter cold. Too much snow. So white it nearly blinded him. He'd had enough of it. It was time to get out of it.

He regarded the others, heading toward the jumper. He watched how carefully they carried Rodney, how Teyla paused to ensure that the blankets remained firmly cocooning the man, doing what she could to keep him from the biting chill. He was damn grateful for them.

Careful of his knee, John made his way through the snow after them, ready to leave the place behind.

A/N: Okay, that's all for today. Tomorrow -- the conclusion!

TBC