The Prize

Chapter 2 – Lost and Found, Part II

Narrow Escape…

John couldn't believe his luck. He worked to control his breathing; the adrenalin was starting to flow fast. After making sure the grenade wouldn't roll off his chest and into the dirt, he stretched and pulled at the sinew that bound his wrists until he was able to wriggle free. The fingers on his left hand hardly worked, though; they were numb with pain and very swollen. John felt as helpless as an upside-down turtle in his current position in the pit. If he was going to be able to use the grenade effectively, meaning, blow the damn things to kingdom come, he needed to be sitting up, or better yet, standing. He stowed the grenade in a pocket easily accessible with his right hand.

He kept close watch on the creatures. All five were in view, fairly close together. If they stayed in one big clump, the grenade would probably kill or injure them all at once. If they started moving around, John honestly didn't know what he would do. Maybe there was something in the cave that he could use to defend himself. He really needed to get a better view of his surroundings.

The creatures were devouring the bloody flesh. A pile of discarded bones started to accumulate near the fire. John checked them out. Maybe he could use one as a weapon, maybe he…oh no, oh no. One of the bones…it was wearing a heavy belt buckle and a large piece of shredded cloth pants. Whose?! Not one of his people, no f-king way, don't let it be one of them. But wait. Even though the metal was splattered with blood, Sheppard could see the buckle had a very ornate design embossed upon it. In his opinion, it wasn't Atlantis military issue.

So the body couldn't be Lorne or one of the Marines. And the color of the fabric didn't match what the Tigans, Ronon or Teyla had been wearing the last time John saw them.

It could be one of the Genii. That would explain why they'd been having such a hard time tracking the rebels down – the mutants were doing the job for them.

Sheppard resisted the urge to gloat. No enemy, except the Wraith, deserved such a fate.

Distracted by the awful revelation, Sheppard was caught dangerously off-guard when one of the creatures began shrieking and throwing bones. It was the one who had lost the food fight. The other four glowered at it, and clutched their meat tight against their chests. Oh, no. This guy was still hungry, and it looked like John was the only thing left on the pantry shelf.

The animal lunged at Sheppard so quickly that reaching the grenade was impossible. It seized him by the throat with both hands then flung him down next to the fire – a blatant 'in-your-face' posturing meant to show the others that John was his. Sheppard lay on the ground, gasping and clutching his left arm. He had landed on it so hard that his vision began to gray from the pain. One of the mutant's claws severely gashed his shoulder near his neck. The flow of blood, made fast by his pounding, pounding heart, excited the creature. It straddled John, lowered its face to just inches from the human's own, and raised its claw for the killing blow. That's when John's scrabbling fingers found the discarded rib bone. He thrust it up and deep into the animal's one good eye – for this was the creature that was half-blind. With its other eye clouded by cataracts, it could no longer see. It screeched and jumped to its feet. Sheppard then shoved his boot into the monstrosity's grotesquely deformed genitals. It screamed again, lurched backwards and fell to the ground, curling into itself in agony.

The other animals were momentarily transfixed by the attack. Now was Sheppard's only chance to get away. He yanked at the bindings on his ankles. With a strength that only desperation and terror could endow, he snapped the cord and was free. He half-ran, half-crawled to the mouth of the tunnel, his wrenched ankle barely able to support his weight. Plastering himself against the tunnel wall, he tore at the Velcro strips that secured the pocket holding the grenade. He pulled the pin, lobbed the bomb, and prayed. The sound of the explosion stunned his ears and reverberated like thunder over and over in the cave chamber. John's aim was on target; all five creatures lay dead or dying. The coup de grace came from a massive stalactite which suddenly crashed down on them, snuffing out any spark of life that remained.

After the smoke cleared, John stumbled back over to the fire. He found a bone that was long and fairly straight and lashed it to his injured ankle with his belt. Not exactly what Carson would do! He tucked his broken arm inside his shirt. Now, to find a way out. But what if these creatures weren't the only ones? If more of them were out there, they would certainly detect his scent unless he did something to camouflage it. Limping over to the animals' remains, he took a fistful of the gore and smeared it all over himself from top to bottom. If that didn't keep him safe, then nothing would except a gun – and all of his were gone. Then, ignoring the overwhelming desire to just keel over, he started down the tunnel. A glow stick he found in his vest illuminated the way.

The Gateroom on Atlantis…

Elizabeth Weir sighed anxiously as the Gate closed. The update from the planet was not good; in fact it sounded very bad, but what else was new? She'd long ago come to the conclusion that Sheppard's escapades would turn her hair completely gray before she reached 40. That humorous outlook towards her friend had helped guide her through countless difficult situations. She – and he – would make it through this one, too, she was sure of it.

Oops, she was doing it again. Yes, John was her friend, a good friend, but first and foremost he was Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, Atlantis's military leader and her most valued colleague. Letting her thoughts dwell on their personal relationship and what it was exactly…or might become…took Elizabeth into dangerous territory, emotionally and professionally.

It was a place she found herself visiting more and more.

Right now, though, she had to focus on the task at hand. She went back to her office and to the stack of reports on recent Genii rebel activity. Why were they on Tigan? Whatever the motive, it didn't seem to be about the Tigan citizens themselves. The four men had arrived on the planet a few days ago, claiming to be mining prospectors interested in exploring the Tigan hinterlands. Their nosing around had drawn Commander Zovel's attention. Anyone wanting to visit that toxic territory was, if not crazy, then dangerously foolish. He had put men in place as shopkeepers who could sell the strangers supplies and equipment. One of the men had slipped up when he tried to barter with a Genii-style knife. Zovel had immediately contacted Atlantis. Unfortunately – and Elizabeth and Sheppard couldn't believe this had happened – one of Zovel's own men had been exposed when a townsperson had unwittingly addressed him as "Officer." After that, Gate travel was immediately suspended, forcing the Genii to flee. The Lanteans and Tigans had now been pursuing the rebels since early morning.

What were they up to? What did they hope to take away from such a barren landscape, from a place that the local population avoided like the plague?

Had Sheppard – and the Genii to whom the arm had once belonged – found it first?

Elizabeth threw her pen in such uncharacteristic frustration that it bounced right off the desk and landed in her coffee cup. She stood up to retrieve it, angry, then found herself sitting back down and smiling. Some of the tension began to melt away. "You'll get through this, Elizabeth," she said to herself. "In the meantime, find the humor in the situation. Heaven knows there's not much of it to spare around here. Let it help you cope."

A Detour and a Discovery…

John had no idea where he was or which way to go. His problems were compounded when he reached a three-way fork in the tunnel. Crap. Now what? Basic survival training taught that routes that supplied air usually indicated the way out. He found some matches in his vest and lit one in front of each pathway. The flame flickered near the tunnel on the right. OK, now he was making some progress. He gathered up handfuls of pebbles and stuffed them in his pockets. If this route ended up being the wrong one, he could use the stones, a la Hansel and Gretel, to mark the trail so he could find his way back to his starting point and the other two tunnels.

John wandered for what seemed like an eternity. The air was getting fresher and fresher and the match flames were flickering more strongly. He grew confident that he was headed in the right direction. Then, as he passed a smaller tunnel that branched from the one he had been following, he heard a noise. Shit, not more of those things?! No, wait – it sounded mechanical. It wasn't the clanging and pounding associated with heavy machinery, but instead was the soft whirr of equipment running smoothly. As much as he wanted to get back above ground, John couldn't resist the temptation to investigate. He limped along for about 50 yards, feeling dizzy and weak. "There'd better be something damn good down here," he said to himself, "or I'm gonna pass out."

He walked for a few minutes until he came to an area where there had been a small rock fall. Rays of bright light were shining through the rocks and making patterns on the tunnel floor. The pile of debris only slightly blocked his way. With just a little work he had soon cleared a path for himself.

What John found on the other side was amazing. A large, brightly-lit complex of rooms and equipment lay before him. He wandered about, opening doors which revealed what looked like laboratories, medical facilities, sleeping areas and kitchens. He couldn't tell how far deep into the tunnel it all went. It was like he'd just walked into a section of Atlantis. John knew right away, though, that this place was not made by Ancients. Nothing reacted to his gene, and he didn't feel that weird, but comforting, mental connection that he often experienced in the City. None of the furniture or technology looked Ancient, either. The facility looked abandoned; everything was filthy, covered in rocks and dirt and dead vegetation. Many things were broken or completely smashed.

One particular set of eight rooms, set apart from the other areas, caught his attention. They were designed simply but pleasantly, in muted colors and fabrics. Each contained what once must have been comfortable chairs and beds. In each room, on a table next to the bed, lay a flexible-looking skullcap studded with small spheres of a bronze-colored metal. Slim cables affixed to the top of the cap were snaked over to what looked like a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. Accompanying the furniture were complex rolling stations of medical equipment.

John was fascinated by what he saw. Was all of this some lost part of Tigan society? Was this place what the Genii 'mining prospectors' were looking for?

Sheppard would have to figure that out later, though. It was too dangerous for him to stay here any longer. As he headed back the way he had come in, he kept an eye out for anything that looked like a weapon. In a tall glass cabinet he saw what looked like Earth pistols, but with slightly longer barrels and a heftier grip. Sweet! The cabinet was locked, so John picked up a large rock and hefted it through the glass.

Which triggered the alarm. A very loud alarm.

Crap! If there were more of the mutants down here, that noise was definitely going to draw them out. John grabbed one of the guns and made for the exit. He clambered over the rock fall and then rushed as fast as he could down the side tunnel and back to the main one. The blaring of the alarm echoed everywhere around him, making it impossible to hear if anything was following. Where in god's name was the way out! He didn't think he could stay on his feet for much longer. Then, he started to notice something. The incline was getting steeper. The air felt more humid and had a sweeter smell, and the tunnel floor was turning muddy as tiny rivulets of water trickled through the dirt.

He had to be near the surface. If he could just…

The shrieks and snarls came echoing out of the blackness. Shit, shit!

About 20 yards ahead the tunnel's gloom was pierced by a faint beam of light. He could hear wind and rain, and…and voices! Human voices. John faced the steepest incline yet before he could get out. His muscles screamed in protest as he scrambled over the rocks and mud. He was about 10 feet from the surface when he lost his grip and fell. The alien gun he had tucked into his belt was jarred loose and skittered away, far out of arms' reach.

Sheppard heard a snarl. He turned his head, and had the briefest glimpse of an animal in mid-leap, fangs bared. Then, from above his head came the deafening retort of a P-90 firing multiple rounds. The creature, and the two others behind it, were blasted to bits.

John looked up and saw his rain-soaked friends. "Pretty damn good shooting!" he shouted. "Now get me the hell outta here!"

Lorne peered down at him, grinning. "C'mon, Sir, wrap this around you and we'll pull you out." A long length of rope which ended in a loop was thrown down to Sheppard. He got it around his waist and under his arms, then tugged on it to let the others know he was ready to be brought up.

Within minutes he was on the surface. "Watch the arm, watch the arm!" Sheppard hissed in pain.

"Sir, hold on, we got you; lemme get this rope off." As Lorne knelt down to help, he got a whiff of John. "Ugghh, Sir, uh…what did you fall in? What the hell happened to you down there?!"

"You'll never believe me, Major!" Then John fainted.

To be continued…Please read and review!