John was approaching the Infirmary, Ronon at his shoulder, when he heard the shot ring out. The two men exchanged an anxious glance, and immediately quickened their pace.
The sight that greeted them when the arrived at the Infirmary looked more like a war zone than a hospital.
"What the hell just happened?" Sheppard demanded of the nearest marine.
"Dr Beckett was trying to kill Dr McKay, and we tried to stop him, Sir," the marine reported.
"He got away," one of the others added.
John's eyes immediately flew over to where Rodney was lying, his body frighteningly still. Jeff Stanton who had arrived, just after John and Ronon, hurried over to the scientist. He picked up the syringe and sniffed it, then turned quickly to Rodney, checking his throat and then his pulse.
"You idiots," he exclaimed, turning on the marines. "He wasn't trying to kill the man; he was trying to save his life."
Sheppard hurried over to him, Ronon again at his side.
"What happened, Doc?" he asked.
"It looks like someone tried to induce an anaphalytic reaction from Dr McKay, using lemon extract." He held up the syringe. "Someone, probably Carson, tried an epi-pen, but it must have been too late for that to have an effect; it only works if used quickly."
"And Rodney's throat?" Ronon asked.
"An emergency trachyotomy," Stanton replied. "Carson must have done it when he realized the epi-pen wasn't working."
"Sir," the lead marine said. "It looked to us as if the Doctor was cutting his throat, just like Martinez's throat was cut."
"Oh, he cut his throat all right," Stanton retorted sharply. "So that he could open an airway to Dr McKay's lungs to allow him to get air. And while I'm at it," Stanton continued. "Why is there a trail of blood leading to that doorway?"
John looked down in horror at the bright red trail. "You shot him?" he said, turning on the marines. Ronon also rounded on them, growling his displeasure.
"We thought he was trying to kill Dr McKay," the marine repeated.
"Save it for your court-martial," John responded sharply. "Can't you keep your marines on a tighter leash?" he asked Caldwell, who had just arrived with Elizabeth and Teyla.
"Is Rodney all right?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes immediately flying to the still figure of the scientist.
"He's going to be," Stanton replied, not looking up. "Thanks to Carson."
"And where is Carson?" Elizabeth asked, looking round, expecting to see the doctor.
"Some idiot here," John replied waving his hand in the direction of the marines, "decided to use him for target practice. They thought he was trying to kill Rodney," John added, quickly before one of the marines could repeat their mantra. "He ran away into the secret corridor."
"We tried to follow, Sir," one of the marines said to Caldwell. "But we couldn't get access to the corridor."
"You need the Ancient gene to open it," John said, approaching the door, which obligingly slide open.
"Where did you hit him?" he asked, swinging round sharply to confront the marines.
"In the shoulder, Sir," one of the marines replied swiftly.
"At least that is something to be grateful for," John muttered. "I want a medic with each team, as we make a detailed search of the city. Carson might be unconscious by now; he seems to be losing blood. Ronon, Teyla, you both take a team and search the corridors leading off from this room, he might not have got far."
"We've got another problem," Stanton said, slowly. All eyes swung towards him. He was holding up a name badge.
"It must have fallen off during a struggle, probably with Dr McKay," Stanton said, a worried look on his face.
As John read the name, his heart sank. "Oh Boy!"
oOoOoOo
Adrenaline took Carson down the corridor and along into the darkness of an unexplored part of the city. He could hear the marines still pounding on the door, and fear, plus a healthy dose of self-preservation took him onwards.
After running, or at least walking quickly, for 15 minutes, he stopped, trying to get his breath back. He could feel the blood from his shoulder wound dripping down his arm. Luckily, if you could call being shot lucky, the wound was in the same arm as his broken wrist, so at least he still had one good arm.
He managed to rip a piece off his shirt, and tie it round his arm, to try to stop the bleeding. He knew he was in a bad way, and couldn't go on much longer, but he didn't feel he had an alternative. Before long, they would send out search parties for him, possibly with the order to shoot to kill. He hoped that his friends would realize what had happened. But he knew he couldn't rely on that, and the new contingent of marines seemed to be of the 'shot first' mentality.
After a few minutes, he took a deep breath and started to move again. He didn't really have an idea of where he was, or where he was going to, but he knew he had to keep moving.
After a while, he could hear voices in the distance. Obviously the searches had started. He wished he could just turn himself in, but his recent attempt at explaining had resulted in being shot. If it was Sheppard, or Ronon, or especially Teyla, he felt he could rely on them. But none of the voices he heard belonged to them.
After about half an hour, he found himself at one of the piers at the outer reaches of the city. Carson always felt an affinity with the ocean. It reminded him of home, even though he was in another galaxy. But on this occasion, the ocean was not a friend. It meant he was trapped. He couldn't go any further and still remain within the relative safety of the city. And behind him, he could hear the voices of the various search parties approaching from different directions.
He wished he'd thought of grabbing a life signs detector. At least then he might have been able to avoid his pursuers. Maybe a gun would have seemed more useful, but Carson had never been very good at using one. He preferred talking, but then it had been trying to talk that got him shot.
oOoOoOo
"Nothing here," Ronon's voice said, into John comm-link.
"Teyla?"
"Nothing here, either, Colonel."
"Dammit, Carson," John muttered to himself. "Where the hell are you?"
Elizabeth gave him a worried look.
"Why isn't he just giving himself up?" she asked. "Do you think he's lying injured somewhere?"
"It's possible," John admitted. "But then we've not given him much reason to trust us so far. We've locked him, shot him, and now are chasing him round the city."
"You don't think he'll do something stupid?" Elizabeth asked.
"I'm more worried about one of those testosterone junkies Caldwell brought with him doing something stupid. Clearing Carson's name doesn't appeal to me much if he's a corpse."
oOoOoOo
Carson turned the corner into another room. He was moving laterally now, from one room to another, trying to avoid detection. He slumped against the wall, his eyes closed, for a moment, his energy all but gone. He knew that he couldn't go on much longer, and also that if he didn't get medical help soon, he might not have to worry about accusations of attempted murder. Dead men don't worry about reputations.
A rustling in the corner made him open his eyes. At first he couldn't make out anything in the gloom. But then a shadowy figure emerged out of the darkness. It was a very large shadowy figure. For a moment Carson thought it was Ronon. But his relief evaporated when he realized it wasn't the Satedan, it was Nurse Thomas – and Nurse Thomas had a gun in his hand, which was pointed directly at Carson.
"At last, Dr Beckett," the other man said. "Now I have you exactly where I want you. It is time for you to suffer, just as I have suffered. And then I will grant you the pleasure of dying."