THE NEXT EVENT - by Kolyaaa!
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE HORRORS
A/N: So, I am now back to posting daily. You should commend me. I have spent this morning milking, feeding and brushing my lovely Julie, and then taking her down to the big field. How I missed her. I had Ladon stopping by to feed and milk her, but apparently Julie would have none of that. She's very particular about who touches her teats and she doesn't trust him. She's not telling me how she had that little problem resolved and we had a bit of a tiff over it, but I have decided to forgive her. We shall spend the evening baking pies (me) and eating them (Julie). Hopefully things can get back to normal tomorrow.
[{O}]
Teyla stared in horror as the earth opened up and swallowed John Sheppard.
"Colonel!" she screamed, running back down the path and lunging toward the widening crack, her fingertips brushing the empty air where Sheppard's reaching hand had been a moment before. She threw herself belly-first on the shaking ground, arms reaching as far as she could stretch into darkness below. Debris tumbled around and over her, bouncing off the pack she still wore, bruising her legs and shoulders. She dug her fingers into the soft earth, clinging tight, still searching.
She shouted for him again, startled by how loud her voice suddenly sounded. Belatedly, she realized that the forest had gone utterly still around her. The ground tremors had ended as suddenly as they had begun. Teyla looked around frantically, but saw no sign of the predators that had been pursuing them.
"Sir?" The frightened call and another shower of dirt and pebbles announced Sergeant Boris's arrival on the scene. The two of them exchanged wild-eyed stares, than turned to stare into the gully that hadn't existed minute ago. The earthquake had split the ground like a ripe melon. A six-foot-wide crack separated them from the swampy black lowlands where they'd lost Bedevere. Sunlight barely penetrated the rift, making it impossible to tell how far Sheppard might have fallen. Boris crouched down, bellowing for his commanding officer, looking more frantic each time the call went unreturned.
Teyla shook herself out of her daze. She reached out and touched the sergeant's shoulder gently. "Keep watch," she said, shrugging out of her pack. "I will go after the colonel."
Boris sputtered a protest, which Teyla ignored. She hefted the pack, tightening it on her shoulders so it would not fall. The last thing the colonel needed was for a pack laden with survival gear to come crashing down on his head.
Turning back to Boris, she gestured toward the radio still tucked in her vest. "I will let you know as soon as I find him. In the meantime, try to contact Doctor Beckett and let him know we will need his assistance," she said. "And warn him to beware of those creatures."
"Right," Boris said miserably. "Beware the cute, fluffy animals." He sighed heavily, "Christ, I'm getting too old for this shit."
Teyla glanced at him, trying to gauge his age. He appeared to be in his forties, but the lines around his mouth were so deeply etched in a frown that he might appear older.
He saw her watching, then shrugged, "Forty-five," he answered her unasked question. "I'm actually supposed to be retiring next week. The colonel thought I might like to see one last amazing thing before I left." He looked down into the rift, "Not so amazing, really, is it?"
She shook her head, then tried to smile reassuringly, reaching out to touch his arm lightly. "He will be all right. We will all be all right – we just need to hold on and not give up hope."
Boris gnawed his bottom lip for a moment, staring at the dark, jagged trench, then nodded reluctantly. He moved back a few steps and hefted his weapon, eyeing the treetops warily. Teyla gave him a grateful smile, lowered herself to the edge of the crevasse, and began her cautious descent, mindful of the very unstable ground.
[{O}]
"Beware the what?" Beckett snapped, pressing one hand to his radio earpiece. "Wee bunnies, you say?"
The battered but ambulatory survivors of the great alicorn hunt were limping through the sun-dappled forest, retracing their path downwards to the jumper. On the distant horizon, trees swayed in the final aftershock of the earthquake, but the temblor had barely slowed them - their one and only lucky break of the day.
Beckett kept a steadying hand on McKay's back, trying to keep the unconscious man from being jostled too much as he dangled over Ronon's shoulder. McKay's breath hitched painfully in time with the Satedan's footsteps, but he didn't stir.
The radio squawked again as Boris repeated his ridiculous message about the rabbits. Beckett turned away, distracted by a sudden movement in the underbrush.
He froze, staring, as one of the pastel bunny-creatures peeked out at him through a clump of wildflowers. Its cute button nose wrinkled, exposing a mouthful of long...white... Wait a minute. Were bunnies supposed to have saw teeth like a piranha?
The bunny raised a dainty pink paw to its muzzle, sharp teeth bearing in a shark-like smile beneath its whiskers and candyfloss fur.
"Shhhh!" it hissed.
"Oh God," Beckett whispered, pawing at his sidearm, trying to un-holster his pistol without dropping the severed horn he still carried.
A bright red energy bolt slammed into the hillock where the creature was sheltering, reducing the wildflowers to a heap of charred ash. Dex cursed, trying to readjust his aim without dropping McKay. The creature's fuzzy white tail flashed once as it vanished, hissing, into the underbrush. Dex's next round missed the bunny by a hair, incinerating a tree stump instead.
Nonor whirled on her brother and punched him viciously on the arm. "Would you stop shooting every magical creature we meet?" she snapped.
Beckett and Dex ignored her, trying to listen to Boris's panicked report.
"Robyn – Kat - Doctor Bedevere! She's dead! Those...those things chewed off her face - ripped her throat out!" Boris's voice had climbed an octave with shock.
"Easy now," Beckett said, his own voice coming out as a frightened squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again. This time, he hit the calm, reassuring bedside tone he was aiming for. "Calm down, lad. Tell us about Colonel Sheppard." He swept a hand at his sleeves, trying to rid himself of some of the alicorn viscera that had landed on him.
As Boris choked out account of ferocious rabbits and earthquakes and cliffsides that swallowed men alive, Beckett ran through a mental triage. First, they needed to get back to the jumper. He was the only one in the group still in any condition to fly the thing. If he could make it to the jumper, he could stabilize Rodney, then head to the hillside to help with the rescue effort. The jumper had a well-stocked first aid kit, a backboard, climbing equipment; everything they'd need to mount a proper rescue.
He picked up the pace, still mouthing reassuring phrases into the radio. He recognized a rock formation that marked the edge of the plateau where they'd parked the jumper. Nonor flounced ahead of him.
Almost there. He trudged ahead, trying not to think about how on earth he was supposed to fly the jumper in a straight enough line to find the colonel.
[{O}]
It took a long moment for Sheppard to come around. He lay half on his side, one arm flung up over his head. He was discombobulated, sore. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to figure out what the hell had happened.
His head buzzed maddeningly, and all over him little hurts blossomed. With a groan, he blinked and tried to roll over, but pain struck and the loose-earth shifted beneath him. Painfully, he tumbled, rolling over onto his belly as dirt cascaded around him. The downward journey stopped and he rested for a moment. Dirt clods continued to dribble down on him - annoyingly. He coughed and tried to sit up.
Ow! Oh God… Crap! He remained still, thinking that he could put up with the dirt bits. No need to move just yet. Yet more stuff continued to come down, and he had to get out of the way.
Stoically, he pushed himself upright with one hand. OW! That hurt. What the hell…?
He blinked into blackness and tried to figure out it out. What happened? Everything was so … black. He breathed in the rich smell of soil. Beneath his fingers - dirt. He had little else to go on.
From somewhere above and behind him, a little light eked in. Otherwise the space was dark. There was enough light to send a glow through the area, but he couldn't really see anything. He was underground – in the dark – and hurt.
Ow! Crap. Oh God.
His arm - yeah, that hurt a lot. He felt cut - bitten maybe - bruised from head to foot, and every attempt at movement sent new agony coursing through him.
Okay, Sheppard, get a handle on this. What the hell happened? Think? Strangely enough, the only image that came to him was something akin to Easter Bunnies.
Bunnies? Fuzzy colorful bunnies - hippity-hoppiting down the bunny trail - floppy ears - little noses wiggling as they leaped - mercilessly - onto him and the others - to tear off hunks of flesh and -
Oh God!
It all came clear - the planet of the alicorn - the horrible rabbit-beasts - Bedevere! He jerked upright, feeling pain jar his side. An almost-electrical shock jolted through one arm. He tugged the arm close, cradling it to his chest, trying to ease the nauseating pain. He breathed through his teeth, forcing his respiration to a slower rate, until he was sure he wasn't going to vomit.
Okay, good. Better. He experimented with moving his fingers, but found that was a bad idea. Something was broken. No doubts there.
He'd fallen. He'd fallen into a crevasse or a hole of some sort. If any of those damn rabbits showed up with a pocket watch, he'd be ready for the really good drugs.
But the others - where were they?
Clasping his hurt arm tightly to himself, Sheppard sat up and called, "Teyla? Boris?" Only silence returned – the earth muffling any echo. He listened intently, hearing nothing. Not a sound from the others. Damn! And it was pretty damn dark.
He felt about, hoping for his P90 and its flashlight, but knowing he'd dropped it as he'd fought to free Bedevere from the hoards of candy-colored puffballs intent on ripping her face to shreds.
He grimaced, realizing his failure. "Damn," he said under his breath. Should have protected her, he told himself. No one should have to go like that. Damned sorry. But there was nothing he could do for her now. He had to deal with saving those that were still with him. He glanced upward toward the only light that came in to him.
"Teyla," he called again. "Boris?" He stilled, listening – and nothing. "Great," he muttered. "Just great."
His 'good' arm stung as he moved it upward to feel his ear, trying to find his radio. It was - unsurprisingly - missing. He continued searching his person for anything that would help his situation. He should have had glowsticks in one pocket, but he found that the Velcro flap was open and he'd probably lost the contents in his fall. Still, there had to be something -
Finally his hand brushed against the Life Sign Detector in one pocket, and he pulled it free. Cool! Yeah, that'd work. He concentrated and the thing blipped into operation. With a grin, he held it out, letting the screen illuminate his situation.
He was underground - no surprise there. He moved the device around, finding that it was a tunnel of some sort - strangely uniform in size, stretching out beyond the reach of the meager light. Behind him was a mound of dirt, beneath an opening in the ceiling where a little light bled through. The ceiling was strangely out of alignment, and he realized that this was the crevasse he'd fallen into - and it was mostly sealed again.
He winced as he twisted the Life Sign Detector about to get a look at his injuries. Blood spotted his arms where the fluffy vermin had bit through to flesh, but the bleeding had apparently stopped. His cuffs were smeared with red - Bedevere's probably - either that or the creatures'. The things seemed to have concentrated mainly on attacking his arms and legs - probably trying to immobilize him before it went for the more vulnerable face and throat.
He frowned at that thought and angled the light upward – to the hole above his head. If that was how he got in here – then it was his best bet at getting out once again. Slowly, painfully, he scooted himself up the mound of dirt. The illumination was a bit brighter from that vantage point, but even so, there seemed to be no direct light getting through. Above, little filaments of light dotted the ceiling – roots maybe? Or maybe glowworms – giving out a little illumination, not enough to see by, but enough to delineate the broken roof that ran above him.
"Teyla?" he shouted. "Boris?" And still there was no response. Where were they? Hell…where was anyone?
TBC
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter! Things are not getting any better, by the way. Just thought I'd let you know. Ha ha ha ha!
A/N: Okay, okay, so I read my reviews. Yes Ma, I'll come to the spring festival. I don't know why I have to spend the night at your place though. It would be just as easy for me to stay here in my comfy bunker! So sorry, Julie. I promise you, my darling cowwww! I promise I'll be back tomorrow and we will bake pie! Can you do something about the lizard while I'm gone? Seriously, I know he's still in there somewhere. Sic 'im!
