Stranded
Chapter 3
Earlier that morning……
"Come on, Sheppard. We've been to PX7-312 a million times, and nothing has ever happened. I'll just pop in, take a quick peek at the ruins, and then leave. Shouldn't take more than an hour, tops." Dr. Rodney McKay paused, eyeing his friend cautiously. Normally, John seemed more than happy to get rid of Rodney for a little while. Today, though, the Colonel was being a little… overprotective, for lack of better word. And it was annoying the scientist.
"A million times, Rodney? How about four….and yeah, so maybe nothing has happened in those four times, but ….Can't this wait?" John ran a hand through his messy hair, already starting to cave in to Rodney's request. After all, the scientist would be with SGA-5, and, even though that team was fairly new, they still were soldiers, hand-selected by John himself. Captain Lewis was a decent guy, although really young…and green…
Once more, John felt the sharp nibbles of doubt.
"Well, honestly, no, it can't wait," Rodney retorted angrily. "I need to take a closer look at those ruins, and see if I can translate some of the inscriptions." He waved a handful of photographs at John, who barely dropped his eyes to look at them. Rodney continued in an exasperated voice, "The pictures are too fuzzy. Besides, SGA-5 is already scheduled to go there on a training mission, and you'll be with Elizabeth in meetings all day, and who knows when we'll be able to go again…." Rodney paused as John wearily raised a hand.
"Fine. But you stay close to Lewis - and don't wander off, Rodney. Agreed?"
"I'm not five, John. And I'll be back before you know it," Rodney replied. "Besides, what could happen?" he asked, waving one hand as he left the room, heading towards the lab.
"Yeah, right. What could happen?" John repeated, doing his best to ignore the knot of worried tension that was forming in his gut.
oOo
PX7-312, present time
Rodney cracked open one eye, and gazed blearily at his surroundings. Night had fallen, and above him was the twinkling glow of thousands of stars. There was no moon in the sky, but, even in the dim light, the faint outline of trees and boulders was visible.
Where am I? What happened?
He stifled a groan as his memory roared back, bringing with it fear and pain. Wounded – he was wounded. Rodney cautiously moved one hand down, laying it gently over his abdomen. As he lightly pressed with his fingers, sharp barbs of pain ricocheted through his body, causing him to gasp. A sudden wave of nausea enveloped him, and, knowing he was going to be sick, he heaved himself to his side.
Minutes later, shaking and feverish, he sat up, scuttling away from the sickness. The sour odors of dried blood and vomit surrounded him, and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. Easing his back against a small tree, he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the dizziness.
Night-time. How long have I been unconscious?
Around him, Rodney could hear the soft voices of the night. Like a majority of planets that they explored, this one resembled Earth, even down to the flora and fauna. Insects buzzed and clicked, while the breeze made the leaves on the trees rustle. Rodney grimaced – he hated nature.
He raised his left arm and peered at the time on his watch. It said 9:30. Rodney rapidly calculated that he had been unconscious for at least seven hours. They had arrived on PX7-312 at 1:00 or so, when the sun was shining high in the sky. Now, darkness blanketed everything around him. And it was getting cold.
Why am I still here? Where's Sheppard, or Teyla, or even Ronon?
Real fear finally embraced Rodney McKay. He had been lying here, alone, for hours, and no one had found him. Who knew what carnivore lurked nearby, waiting to chow down on filet de physicist? He fought the panic that threatened, and, instead, grabbed at his radio.
"Hello? This is McKay. Can anybody hear me?" Once more, his only response was the hiss and whine of static. Disgusted, he tossed the radio to the ground. He stifled a moan, then leaned against the hardness of the tree.
Okay, think. Why haven't I been rescued?
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to remain calm as he began enumerating the possible reasons John and the others hadn't arrived.
One – they came through the gate and just haven't found me yet. This was the most logical excuse. Except that Rodney knew Teyla was a superb tracker, and she probably would have had no problem following the broken brush he had crashed through to escape the angry natives.
Two – night had fallen and they can't find him in the dark. This, too, held some promise, except that Rodney was pretty sure that they would use a puddle jumper to find him, and the Ancient vehicle had plenty of lights. Not to mention some kind of heat detector. In fact, having a puddle jumper would rule out reason number one as well. Damn.
Three – John and the others came through the stargate and ran into trouble. Now, this was infinitely possible. Although what the trouble could be, Rodney couldn't surmise. Could be anything – angry natives, busted jumper, problem with the stargate…
Problem with the stargate. Rodney frowned as this possibility remained swimming in his brain. He vaguely remembered the natives attacking the stargate, hitting it with rocks and spears, beating at the huge device, shouting and yelling the whole time. He supposed that they could have damaged it, preventing anyone from coming through and rescuing him.
Or preventing anyone from leaving. He sat up suddenly, a small hiss of pain escaping through his lips as his abdomen reminded him it was wounded. A thought occurred to him, and he reached into his vest, unsnapping his GDO, more commonly known as the garage door opener. Rodney had scoffed at the nickname bestowed upon the small device, but it fit. In order to have the personnel on Atlantis lower the shield on the stargate, one had to enter the proper code on the GDO, and then transmit it through the gate. Rodney flicked the switch on his unit, only to have nothing happen. No lights, no beeps – nothing. He sagged. Things were rapidly going from bad to worse.
It doesn't matter. Someone will come for me. John wouldn't leave me out here, and neither would Elizabeth. I just have to sit back and wait.
Rodney's attempt at reassuring himself failed miserably. His nerves frayed, his body cold and damaged, he huddled next to the small tree, praying for morning, and for the rescue that had to come.
TBC