The action finally picks up a bit. Alas I must flee the state and participate in an event with some good but very strange friends and hopefully see the sun again.
Part 5
Hours later and still the wind whistled and tore across the land, whipping snow and obscuring the sky. At times, standing at the very entrance of the cave, it was impossible to discern any type of detail. The maze of stone and ice was completely obscured. Rocky monoliths and glacier eruptions remained shielded behind a harsh curtain of whipping snow.
Every hour, one of the SGA-1 made their way to the cave opening to check on the progress of the storm.
The others remained behind, in the small cavern.
The tunnel at the back of the cave had meandered and wandered endlessly. After an hour of exploration, earlier in the morning, Sheppard had called it quits. They were not here for spelunking.
Rodney sat close to the fire and continued to fiddle with the life signs detector. His tablet remained packed away from the cold. The frigid temperatures had sapped the battery of its last spark of energy.
He commiserated with the tablet.
The astrophysicist occasionally gazed up from his work and surveyed the area. Teyla was still down the corridor watching the storm. Beckett slept curled under one of the few remaining unpacked sleeping bags. Sheppard had medicated and re-bandaged his eyes earlier in the morning. The swelling had receded. Through furious blinking and ulcerated corneas, Carson could discern shapes and movements if he squinted hard enough.
Jones had gained enough trust to be allowed to run the climbing lines and check the ropes for any weak spots. The corporal had become morosely silent. His white long sleeve shirt almost seemed to glow in the fire light of the cave.
Ronon sat near the entrance of the cavern sharpening one of his many hidden blades. Occasionally, McKay caught the Satedan staring at the silent Marine, watching the younger man's movements. Dex made his distrust very clear.
There were very few grey areas with Ronon.
Rodney found that refreshing.
Sheppard leaned against his pack, on a sleeping bag, watching the fire.
Bottles of oxygen had been counted and inventoried, pressures checked. Weapons had been cleaned and oiled. Water and food had been counted and sorted and what was not going to be used shortly was repacked. Excess sleeping gear was stowed and outer gear remained spread before the fire.
Soft footsteps in the sand had people popping their heads up and cautiously reaching for weapons, except for Carson. Soft snores belied his level of concern.
Teyla quietly entered the small lair. A smile brightened her features. "The storm has passed."
Ronon silently stowed his knife in an unseen sheath.
Jones stopped inching the rope through his fingers and watched his C.O.
Sheppard sat up, pushing his hat back off his forehead.
"How much daylight do we have left on this planet, Rodney?"
"By my calculations, I'd say close to 12 hours." McKay pocketed the life signs detector. "That might be just enough time to get Helen Keller over the ridge and across the ice to the gate."
Jones reached over to wake Beckett, but was halted mid move by Ronon's warning, "Don't."
The colonel sighed and leaned forward, lacing his boots. "Carson," Sheppard called with a hint of authority. He quickly snapped and buckled the protective synthetic covering over and around his boots hiding and shielding the laces from the weather. "Carson." Sheppard called again.
Beckett's snores were choked back as the doctor suddenly sat up, disguised and hidden by the sleeping bag. The sleeping bag turned left and right, paused, and then slowly folded back down into the sand a lumpy mound.
Ronon cocked his head to the side, staring at the unseen doctor and then over to the colonel.
Sheppard rubbed at his forehead with a hint of despondency. Sometimes traveling with scientists, he likened, to taking pre-schoolers on field trips.
"Come'n, Doc," Sheppard stood, gathering his coat.
The sleeping bag moved as the figure underneath it stretched.
"How are we going to get Dr. T. R. Armitage, there, over that ridge?" Rodney asked reaching around himself and gathering his own gear. "Let alone across the steppes to the gate?"
Sheppard paused in gathering his gloves, and shot McKay a weary look.
Apparently Carson was familiar with the name of T. R. Armitage.
Beckett rasped in McKay's general direction. Though no true articulation could be discerned his disgust was apparent, even if his body language was cleverly disguised by the sleeping bag.
"He can hear you now, Rodney," Sheppard smiled. The colonel pushed himself to his feet and rubbed thinly gloved hands together.
The stretched, unzipped sleeping bag rolled slightly left and then right. Heavy white socks poked out from one end and clasped finger tips from the opposite. Both quickly retreated from the bite of the cave's cool temperature.
"Ronon, get your gear. You and I are going to scout to see if there is an easier way up over this ridge." Sheppard put up a stalling hand, halting any type of verbal rebuke from Rodney and the others.
The sleeping bag sat up again.
"Rodney, I want you and Jones to start breaking camp." The colonel shucked on his coat, zipped it and then secured the Velcro flap that protected the teeth of the zipper from ice and wind. He grabbed his backpack and P-90, easily hoisting the pack over and onto his shoulders.
Beckett rasped indignantly and began trying to free himself from his bedding. The dizziness that had plagued him the night before had dissipated with the return of his hearing.
Sheppard stopped, his head cocked slightly to the side and watch Beckett wrestle with the sleeping bag. The Colonel stared for a moment and wondered how someone with such unparalleled success with genetics and medicine could have such difficulty with navigating an unzipped sleeping bag.
He found it both unsettling and a bit frightening.
Sheppard stepped around McKay and pulled the sleeping bag off of Beckett's head, freeing the physician. The Doctor sat, hat skewed, eyes bandaged, trying to wrestle on a boot.
"Carson, let them do their jobs and you just worry about getting yourself ready to travel." The colonel sighed and reached down. "The other foot, Carson." Sheppard took the boot from Beckett's hands and tapped the doctor's left foot. "Left boot, left foot." He placed the heavy soled trekker back in the Scot's hand and patted his shoulder.
Carson rasped something gazing up in the direction of the Colonel. Sheppard cocked his head to the side in mute question. He realized Beckett couldn't see him. "I didn't get that Carson."
Beckett rasped again with a hint of frustration.
"What? What is that? Is that supposed to mean something? Rodney asked slightly frustrated.
"I believe Dr. Beckett feels he can be of assistance," Teyla translated. Beckett nodded.
"I'm sure you can, Carson. But let us take care of things for right now," The colonel answered.
"You ready, Sheppard?" Ronon asked. He stood dressed in his outer gear, not a hint of skin remained visible. The neoprene mask was back in place, the bottle oxygen hidden in its carrier.
Sheppard nodded but stepped toward the Athosian. "Keep an eye on them," the colonel whispered without making any motion toward the three men.
Teyla simply nodded. "I shall accompany you to the entrance." She directed her head toward the others. "They will be safe for now."
Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla followed the twisted corridor to the outer opening of the cave.
The sky was a dazzling blue. All traces of a stormy sky had disappeared. The sun was brilliant, reflecting off the ice and snow with blinding intensity. The colonel turned and faced Teyla. "I want to trust Jones, but," Sheppard hesitated.
"I will keep a careful eye out, John," Teyla smiled reassuringly. She kept a mittened hand raised to shield her eyes from the painful glare of sunlight. Her red parka crinkled in the cold. "Go. Find a way over this ridge so we can be home quickly."
Sheppard nodded and smiled as he raised his neoprene mask over his face and snapped it in place.
Teyla watched the pair walk off to the left, in the opposite direction they had come in the night before. She stood at the entrance, and sighed, gathering her resolve in dealing with Drs McKay and Beckett. They were good people, good friends, but they fed on one another. Their verbal sparring and satire reminded her of children left too long in close proximity of one another. It was similar yet somehow different from the McKay Sheppard sparring matches. She was unsure as to why or how, but Sheppard and McKay often times needed a different type of intervention and diplomacy than the McKay, Beckett combination. Both were equally tiring but in different manner, like the weariness of hiking differed from the fatigue of running.
Teyla smiled, her bronze skin wrinkling in the arid cold. The wind scoured the ground, driving snow at ankle height in linear streams. She watched the Colonel and Dex grow smaller in the distance, behind a thin veil of blowing snow. They were a mismatched pair. She chuckled at the difference between John's carefree saunter and Ronon's purposeful pace. They complimented one another well on the battlefront. They made a good team.
All of them.
SGA-1 meshed. Her smile brightened, thinking of how well Rodney settled in their midst, elbowing to make room for himself, fidgeting and constantly moving. However, he fit.
She paused a moment longer at the mouth of the cave.
Dex and Sheppard slowly disappeared from sight.
Her eyes watered and her face stung from the bite of frigid, dry air. It was time to go back to the doctors and Corporal Jones.
As she turned to head back to the cavern, she caught a glimpse of white motion. A solid blow smashed into the side of her face. Her head snapped down and to the side. She rolled her shoulder slightly, pivoting on her dependent leg, her knee giving a little to ride with the blow, absorbing the shock.
Still the blow was true and powerful and Teyla was slammed down to one knee.
She struggled to regain her feet, already bringing up a defense and counter offensive.
A rapid, snapping second strike smashed into her head sending the Athosian crumpling into the sandy flooring.
Teyla lay lifeless just inside the entrance of the cave.
-------------------------------
Rodney gazed up from the life sign detector and scrutinized his surroundings. Beckett still fumbled with his winter gear. At least he put his coat on upside right, on the second attempt. His radio was nestled securely in his ear and hidden under his hat.
Jones was missing.
"Carson, where's…?" he snapped gloved fingers trying to come up with the name. Thick mittens hung by snaps from both his wrists.
Beckett rasped a response.
"What?" McKay stood up, automatically hefting his own backpack and shoving the ancient device back into a pocket. "I'm supposed to understand that?"
Rodney turned his attention to the entrance of the cavern. "Where'd Teyla go?" They had been alone too long. The Athosian should have been back by now.
Beckett rasped again, pointing to the solid wall to his left.
"Oh, stop talking," McKay ordered. Their sudden isolation made his skin crawl. He dropped his gloved hand to his .9mm. Something wasn't right. If Ronon had been here, the Satedan would probably be curling his lip. The damn man could almost smell danger.
McKay didn't believe he had Dex or Sheppard's 'spidey' senses. He didn't like to rely on gut feelings, preferring logic and fact over a 'sense' of impending doom. However, he had come to respect the little twinges of unease that often sparked in his gut when things seemed 'off' or wrong.
Something was wrong now. His spidey senses may not have been as developed as the others, but he had strong observational skills, and could gather and interpret facts better than most.
Sheppard and Dex were gone. Teyla and the marine were missing. People had been killed recently and a large creature roamed the area. One plus one often equaled two, however, in the Pegasus Galaxy, simple addition often contained hidden variables.
This was not good. Something was amiss.
"Carson, get over here," McKay ordered. He kept his gaze locked on the dark corridor that led to the outside entrance of the cave.
Beckett nodded, easily picking up the uneasiness in McKay's voice. The doctor took one step, hooked a foot on Jones's pack and promptly tripped, falling over his own pack. He landed solidly, chest and face first onto the one remaining unpacked sleeping bag.
Carson lay gasping for an elusive breath. The panic on his face, easily indicating he had knocked the wind from himself.
McKay's disgruntled groan was cut short by an unseen scraping noise in the corridor.
"Carson, ssshh," McKay whispered. The geneticist simply gaped silently, fighting to regain some residual volume in his lungs. A desperate gasp earned him a thankful reprieve as air flooded his chest.
The astrophysicist scrambled beside Beckett and helped haul him to his feet by his coated upper arm. Carson stood facing opposite direction of McKay.
"Did you hear that?" Rodney whispered next to Beckett's ear.
Carson merely shook his head, still relishing in the success of breathing again.
"Teyla?" McKay asked quietly, with a hint of hope.
There was more scraping, as if something was being dragged. It was closing on their position.
McKay tapped his radio. "Colonel, we've got a problem." He waited a heartbeat. "Colonel? Ronon? Teyla?" McKay waited again. "Anyone?"
At the intonation of anyone, Beckett quietly waved his hand, facing one of the walls.
"Not you," McKay pushed Carson's hand back down. "I think we're in trouble." He paused. "Where'd Jones's go?"
Beckett pointed to his right and rasped an answer squarely to the stone wall, his back to Rodney.
"Stop." McKay's frustration was palatable. He turned Beckett around as he spoke.
"Just---just stop pointing. You have no idea where you're pointing to."
The two stood listening.
McKay quickly examined their surroundings. There was nowhere to hide. They were sitting ducks. Not good. So not good. "Come on," Rodney whispered.
He slowly backed himself and Carson away from the campfire, creating more distance between themselves and the main entrance to the cave. He shuffled them around the little corner that led down the smaller, narrower tunnel that led to the endless maze of channels under the ridge.
It got densely black, quickly.
Rodney spun on his heels, turning Beckett as well and quickly led Carson along the narrow tunnel. The Scot occasionally mis-stepped and caught the toe of his boot on McKay's heel. Rodney led them deeper into the gloom for a few more moments. The sounds of their little campfire quickly disappeared.
There was no hint of light.
"Stay here. You understand me?" McKay whispered. "Carson, stay." He held his hand mimicking a halting motion and waited for a response.
Beckett shook his head and grunted at the order. He fumbled for Rodney's coated forearm, trying to keep the scientist with him.
"Just stay." McKay hesitated a second, trying to scrutinize his friend that stood just inches from him and yet unseen in the thick blackness. He freed his arm from Beckett's mittened hand and backed up a step. "Just wait here. Okay, Carson? Just wait."
Rodney crept back along the tunnel, keeping a hand to the craggy rock surface and made his way back to their cave. His breathing became labored as the thin air made itself known. McKay absently snapped his oxygen mask up over his face. The bottled air held a hint of sweetness. Within seconds, the slight burning in his chest dissipated. His cheeks no longer stung from the brittle cold.
He neared their camp.
The glow of the small fire wavered slightly, barely breaching the inky blackness of the tunnel.
The small firelight grew in strength, stretching uneven shadows as Rodney held close to the wall and closed the distance to their camp. The astrophysicist stopped just at the back bend of the cave and waited.
The scraping became increasingly louder. A guttural growl punctuated harsh gasps of breath. McKay poked his head around the bend and stared into their abandoned camp.
Gear lay scattered. Jones', Teyla's and Beckett's packs remained open and only partially full. Beckett's sleeping bag appeared as if a person still slept within it. It lay rumpled where Carson had left it. A few oxygen bottles and miscellaneous food packets were scattered about waiting to be packed.
A familiar form entered the living area. A P-90 was held ready at the shoulder and finger curled around the trigger.
The quick report of gunfire exploded in the small area. P-90 rounds tore through the crumpled sleeping bag jerking it haphazardly backward and throwing insulation into the air.
Rodney's eyes widened in shock and then narrowed. His surprise was tempered by the harsh experience of living in the Pegasus Galaxy.
The 'intruder's' weapon was slowly lowered. The figure surveyed the empty camp. Confusion, then anger and finally understanding flashed across clean cut features. Hazel eyes then focused on the back corner where the second narrow tunnel lead deeper into the rock. Cold eyes tightened and a toothy humorless smile creased boyish good looks.
The hunter didn't see his prey, but he deduced where they took shelter. Their eyes never met.
C4 and detonating caps were hauled from tack vest pockets. "Good bye, Dr McKay, Dr. Beckett," whispered forth under a maniacal chuckle.
"Not good, not good, so not good," McKay muttered. His heart raced as epinephrine poured into his system. He pushed from his crouch by the wall and hastily back peddled deeper into the enveloping darkness of the tunnel. The .9mm at his hip remained unnoticed.
McKay pivoted on the ball of his foot, fumbling for his flashlight, and sprinted his way back to Carson.
Rodney didn't think he had been spotted, not that it mattered. Not at all. There were not many places to hide in a one room cave.
"Run, Carson! Run!" Rodney screamed over his radio as he tore down the sandy tunnel, hands held out, he fumbled with twisting on his flashlight. After just a moment the light flared to life and bobbed wildly left and right with each panicked step he took.
He rounded a corner and ran full bore into Beckett who was running toward him. They slammed into one another, rebounding back and crashing to the ground.
"The other way! Run the other way!" McKay pulled himself clear of Beckett, jumped to his feet and tried dragging the physician forward and to his feet at the same time.
Beckett scrambled to catch up and get his footing under him. He rasped ineffectually at McKay.
Dizziness that seemed mostly at bay suddenly confounded Carson with vertigo. He couldn't seem to find both feet and waffled between walking on his feet, knees and one hand.
Rodney tugged at the juncture of his coat shoulder and hood, relentlessly urging him onward, throwing his balance off even more.
"C4! He's got C4!" Rodney whispered heatedly, trying force his friend onward.
Beckett finally managed both feet and took three faltering steps guided by McKay.
Then Carson's dark, unsteady world shook violently. The ground heaved. A solid wall of sound physically crashed over the pair as superheated air forcefully shoved them forward.
Beckett bowled into and then over McKay.
Air was crushed from Carson's chest when he slammed harshly into the sandy ground.