FOUR
"We've lost the signal." John muttered, skidding to a stop in the slick mud of the hillside.
"What do you mean you lost it?" Ronon turned and strode back.
They'd been making excellent time, despite the darkness and rain, and had closed to within a mile of Jen's position. The incline was slippery and muddy, travel had been difficult, but Ronon wasn't about to let something as insignificant as a torrential downpour keep him from his target.
"Lost." John wiggled the tracker then whacked it with his hand. "As in gone. No longer there. Maybe it got wet."
Ronon growled.
"Easy, big guy." John dropped the transmitter into his pocket. "If I remember Rodney's blithering correctly, we should be near the ruins and there are a lot of caves nearby. They could simply have taken shelter."
Ronon turned and stared in the general direction they'd been traveling. The ground had slowly changed with the climb from mud and trees to rocks and sparser greens. Caves were a likely scenario. But how many? And which direction?
"Colonel Sheppard, come in." Major Lorne's voice sounded in John's ear.
"Major Lorne." John answered quickly. "Where are you?"
"Just exiting the gate, sir, heading towards your position now."
"Do you see Dr. Keller's signal?"
A brief pause. "No."
John shook his head at Ronon who growled. "Okay. We passed a clearing a few minutes back, about half a click before our position. Meet us there."
"Roger, that." Lorne answered.
John turned and stepped back the way they'd come.
"Where are you going?" Ronan didn't move.
"We can't find her if we can't see. And we can't see. It's dark, raining, and we've lost her signal."
Ronon growled. "I'm not leaving her."
John returned. "Neither am I. But be reasonable. The minute her signal kicks back in we'll be able to take the jumper directly to her."
"And if it doesn't?"
"We'll keep going."
Ronon shook his head and spun on his heel. "Not leaving her." He called over his shoulder, and disappeared into the trees.
"Ronon. Ronon!" Sheppard called after him. "Oh hell." He muttered.
John listened for Ronon but it was useless. The man moved like a specter. You only heard him if he wanted you to. With a curse he turned and headed down the incline, back towards the clearing where Major Lorne would be waiting with the jumper.
Jen shivered and looked frantically around. She fought to keep her breathing steady despite her heart's attempt to pound its way out through her ribcage.
She'd been pretty much unconscious until they'd dropped her onto the floor of the cell so she had no idea how long she'd been out, or where the hell she was now. The air was dark and stale, the musty smell tickling her nose, so wherever here was, it was most definitely underground.
She placed her palm against the side of her head, wincing. The bleeding had stopped, but she had a nice goose egg just above her right ear from where she'd cracked her head on a rock or tree root when Durock tackled her. To top things off, her shoulder was already starting to change color. She prodded it gently with her fingertips. Nothing was broken but damn if it didn't hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.
"Okay, now what?" She whispered softly to the damp walls. Pulling against the door she confirmed it was indeed locked. Well, it was worth a shot. She explored the rest of the walls in the light of the single bulb hanging high above her head, but there was nothing to see but rock.
"Let's go, healer." Jen let out a squeal and spun around at the sound of the voice behind her. A very large man was unlocking the door to her cell. He looked like an unwashed throwaway from the WWF - no neck, no hair, and no soap. He stepped closer and grabbed for her but she shied away.
He lunged and grabbed her.
"Okay, okay." She exhaled, stumbling along beside him, her good arm caught in his vice like grip.
The tunnel narrowed and expanded, some walls naturally cut, others carved out. She tried to count the number of turns and corners but it was like a maze and she eventually gave up, briefly wondering who'd have time to hang all those lights that dangled from hooks and ropes along the high ceiling.
Suddenly the walls opened up into a large cavern that had been decorated up like a scene from some bizarre medieval movie. Huge red curtains draped down covering the rocky sides. Large gothic candleholders stood at odd angles, dripping wax down along the hooks and holders. The candles formed large dark shadows along the walls. She half expected Dracula to come swooping down from the ceiling.
Two large tables, stacked high with discarded food and dirty dishes filled the floor space.
"Sanitary." Jen muttered, shuddering as a rat scurried along the aisle before disappearing under one of the chairs.
Her escort grunted in response. Crossing past the tables they exited out into another series of tunnels, once again brightly lit with bulbs hanging from a long running wire across the ceiling.
The air here was lighter somehow – fresher – she wondered if they were getting closer to the outside. Perhaps if she could get near enough to the surface, her transmitter might trigger.
Well, that was if someone was actually looking for her signal.
Her escort dragged her into another smaller, dimly lit cavern. She was suddenly released and shoved forward.
Near the back sat a large bed, and next to it, a soldier in a dusty navy uniform stood guard, watching her with narrowed eyes. Another large man, wearing a similar uniform stepped forward out of the darkness, approaching her with a smile and outstretched hands. He grasped her wrist and pulled her towards the bed.
"Finally, my son." He said to the figure lying on the bed. "Your savior has arrived."
Jen stared down at the shadowed face of a boy, half buried beneath mounds of blankets. She looked back towards the man standing beside her.
"My son." He said simply. "You will heal him, or you will die."
"What makes you think I can help?" She asked, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat and tried her best to look calm.
"You're a healer. You will heal him." The soldier barked.
Jen turned towards the young boy and reached to move the blankets. The sudden snap of a rifle made her jump back in fright. Her hand flew to her chest as she stared across the bed at the rifle aiming directly at her.
"Stand down." The first man ordered. "Leave us."
The soldier hesitated, then lowered his weapon. "My eldest." He answered, as if to apologies. "He's concerned for his younger brother."
Jen watched the retreating man's back, making sure he was definitely leaving. Once he'd disappeared around the corner she turned back towards the unconscious boy on the bed. He couldn't me more than seventeen. His skin was pale and drawn, beads of sweat glistening across his face. His eyes were closed, his body still under labored breathing. With a tentative look towards the man beside her, she reached for the blankets and peeled them away.
The boy's torso was wrapped tightly in heavy material, the entire right side caked with dried blood. "What happened to him?"
"Shot." The man answered.
Jen knelt on the cold floor, her mind already in doctor mode. She leaned across him, her shoulder protesting, but she ignored it. "I need my bag." She stated, pulling gently at the bandages.
The older man remained still. Jen looked up. She stared up into his eyes searching for the concern of a father who was watching his son die, but found nothing but darkness. She shook away the flash of fear and strove to concentrate on her patient. "If you want me to help him, then get me my bag. The large knapsack your men carried when they took me from my tent. It carries medical supplies."
The man hesitated then nodded, turning towards the entrance to the cavern and shouting an order that echoed through the tunnels. A few moments later Durock appeared, her bag in hand.
"The bag, as requested, Burnon." Durock gushed, handing over the large knapsack with a bow. Jen stood and reached for the bag but Durock slapped her hand away.
"Leave us, Durock." Burnon commanded. Durock handed the bag to Burnon, half bowed, then retreated. But not before giving Jen a sneer.
Burnon turned towards Jen, the bag clutched tightly in his hands. "If he dies… you die."
Jen held out her hand. "If he dies, it's because you're taking to long giving me my supplies. The bag. Now."
Burnon handed her the knapsack.
Jen turned, and under the watchful eye of the father, set to work helping the son.