FIGURATIVE HELL AND LITERAL HIGH WATER

By TIPPER


CHAPTER FOUR: SLIPPERY WHEN WET

As they climbed higher, the way growing increasingly steep, the forest began to thin, and Keller became aware again of just how heavily the rain was still bucketing down. The wind had picked up as well, sharp gusts battering them with every step. She was beginning to forget what it felt like to be dry or warm. At least she could see—she didn't feel like she constantly had to wipe sheets of water from her face as she had back in town.

Not that there was much to see. The brown landscape was really beginning to get to her. There were more rocks and boulders up here to break the monotony—sometimes whole shelves of granite jutting out of the mountainside—but it was still mostly the barren looking pine tree trunks.

Bent over from the weight of the backpack and now the medical case, Jennifer slogged up the muddy trail, having long ago given up the attempt to keep her feet on solid ground. Since they'd left the road to hike up this goat track, it had just gotten worse. Black mud sucked at her boots, seeping inside the lining to drown her already sodden feet. It was like walking on gel insoles, except the water bubbles she could feel between her toes and under her arch were actually bubbles of water between her toes and under her arch.

To distract herself, she mentally went through the treatment for trench foot.

In front of her, Rodney marched up the barely visible path, often looking back at her to make sure she was still there. A couple of times, she thought she would slip, but her balance stayed remarkably stable, so that, despite a lingering soreness in her right ankle from her fall in town, she was moving pretty well. She was even keeping up, which was impressive.

Exercise was never something she was that interested in. She knew she should do it, and heaven knew she preached it often enough, but she was a little like those doctors who told you not to smoke, but then went outside on their breaks and took a drag. Oh, she didn't smoke, but she had an unhealthy addiction to McDonald's french fries, Reese's peanut butter cups, rare steaks, Doritos, and, really, everything else bad for you under the sun. She tried to eat vegetables when she was in the mess hall, but more often than not she was eating junk food at her desk or in her room. As for exercising—the occasional use of the stairs from the Gateroom floor up to the Control Room probably didn't count for much.

So her breathing was ragged as she stumbled after him, her quads felt like jelly, and her shoulders were close to breaking under the strain of the pack and lugging the black medical case.

But she was keeping up. Not that she had any doubt that, if he wanted to, he could leave her behind.

She found herself watching Rodney as he trudged forward in front of her, clambering over rocks and trees in their path, wondering a little if this is what it was like for him on missions—feeling like the stone around the neck of his companions. Oh sure, she knew he exercised…sort of. He'd come in numerous times complaining of bruises and welts and strained muscles from working out with Ronon or Teyla or John, but she'd never actually seen him actively doing anything. And the physicals she'd performed on him confirmed what she saw—a man nearing forty, strong but not necessarily in the peak of health, in a weight and BMI class that didn't make him overweight by any means, but he also wasn't in a class that could be considered "fit."

But of course, he was out in the field at least once a week, walking, running, fighting…between that and the exercise she knew he did do, he should have been fitter. But he wasn't—and she could guess why. It was for the same reason she wasn't.

She just never seemed to find the time to really care for her body. With her hours and her schedule, she was lucky to have time to sleep, and she knew it was the same for him. She knew he was up at all hours working on the city, keeping it running, or studying the latest findings brought in by other field teams, or out in the field, often in danger. She knew he had time off—Elizabeth had mandated it for everyone at one point not long after Jennifer arrived in the city—but she imagined Rodney spent much of it working anyway.

He was just that type. And so was she.

Except that, he had friends. Real ones, as close as family. A team he'd kill himself for—like he was doing now. Maybe it wasn't about how fit you were, but how determined you were to get to your goal.

He stumbled suddenly, and she heard him hiss in pain as his left foot got caught between two rocks he'd been climbing over. She hurried forward, to reach him, but he just shook his head at her. With a grunt, he pulled himself up and resumed moving upwards.

"It thins out a lot up here," he said, panting slightly, clambering up between another set of boulders. "More rocks, because we're nearing the ridge. Once we get over that, it's a straight shot to where the others are."

She nodded, and asked, "So, we're close?"

"Yeah," he said. "Maybe a few kilo…a couple of miles left to go."

She smiled at the correction. She knew her metrics, but it was nice of him to make the adjustment. And the fact that he did it without sneering showed how tired he was.

He was picking up the pace a little now, and she skipped a little to catch up.

Rodney stopped suddenly when he reached a wide waterfall of granite rocks and boulders, complete with a fast moving river sluicing down it. The path turned in a different direction here, pointing away from where they'd been climbing, sloping off and down into a fairly deep looking gorge. They couldn't keep following it—it clearly went the wrong way. Which meant they'd have to cross the river.

This was bad. The rocks were all wet and clearly unstable. One misstep and they could easily take a nasty fall down the waterfall. At the very least, it would break a bone. More likely, they'd crack their heads open.

Keller swallowed. "Was this…was this the high water?" she asked, remembering Rodney's claim to Brent down in the town.

He nodded. "I came down this, followed it a ways, then crossed over at this point when I saw the path we're on, on this side," Rodney said, gesturing at the stream, then his hand fluttered down, as if depressed. "But It wasn't…there was a lot less water. It was more a…," he cleared his throat, "a stream than a torrential river."

He sounded worried—and she knew why. The river rushing down was a mini-torrent, all the rocks jutting out of it were slick with rain and damp algae, and with the wind blowing up and down it…. The footing would be precarious, if not impossible.

"This is bad," he said shakily. It sounded like he was about to quit. Keller shook her head, nudging his arm.

"Do we have a choice?" she asked finally.

He sighed and shook his head. "No."

"Then, I guess 'lay on, Macduff'," she said, gesturing at the stream.

He grimaced again, staring at the rocks, obviously choosing the best place to cross. After a moment, he turned and looked at her, holding out a hand. "Give me the backpack."

Her eyebrows lifted. "What?"

"I can take it and still have both hands free for the gun, if we need it. And it'll help you balance more."

"Me?" she wondered. "What about you?"

"I'm used to lugging all my equipment on my back in the field," he said. "Besides, you look like you're about to collapse."

Her eyes widened slightly. She did? She didn't feel that bad. Of course, she was shivering and her face did feel sort of flushed, and her legs felt like dead-weights….

"I—"

"Just give it to me, Keller," he ordered. "You keep the case."

She swallowed, but did as he asked, turning around so he could help. The pack had begun to feel like part of her, so taking it off was almost enough to cause her to feel light-headed. She staggered as he took it from her, and, for a moment, her vision grayed. She leaned forward, her back feeling strangely naked, breathing in deep draughts of air.

"You okay?" he demanded, sounding a little impatient. She turned to face him again—he was pulling the backpack on, adjusting the straps as he did so. He was frowning at her.

"Fine," she answered shakily, straightening once more. "You know, Teyla told me…she said, people often underestimate the level of discomfort they are capable of enduring."

He eyed her for a moment, then gave a small smile. "Yeah. That sounds like her."

"What I mean is," she smiled weakly, "I can endure." She smiled. "So can you."

He snorted. "Right." He took in a deep breath, then looked up. "Okay. This way." He turned from her and started up to side of the waterfall, climbing up the steep bank of the stream to a location he'd obviously picked to cross. Tiny rocks and sticks skittered down in his wake. Jennifer grimaced, picked up the medical case, and made to follow.

Rodney reached a point about ten feet above where they'd been before, prevented from going any higher by a large boulder jutting out of the mountainside at about head height. Gingerly, he turned and stepped onto a different rock by his feet that had water streaming down both sides. Jennifer watched as he put his weight on it…and it shifted, sliding down a good two or three inches. His face pinched, and he lifted his foot up. He stood for a moment, then tried another rock. This one didn't move as much.

It was like that for the next few moments—Rodney testing rocks and slowly making his way forward over the stream. About halfway across, he turned and looked at her, his hand lifting to gesture at her to follow.

She let out a pent up breath, and stepped where he had stepped.

The rocks felt slimy, slick. They shifted slightly, shivering under her weight and from the weight of the grossly swollen river rushing under and around them. Her boots felt like they had nothing on their soles—as if they were as smooth as ice.

So not good.

Rodney was still moving, balancing and stepping. He continued to check on her as he led the way, stopping probably as much to catch his breath as he was concerned for her.

Jennifer didn't care—she was glad he was watching.

All of a sudden, there was a deep rumble and she yelped, going done to her hands and knees as the whole world started to shake. The rocks around her trembled, and the water seemed to rush faster, spraying her as it crashed down.

Suddenly, the rock she was on slid down a good six inches and she yelped, her left leg instinctively burying itself into the river, seeking purchase on the river bed. Tiny rocks and pebbled skittered over the toe of her boot, but it held…and the rock stopped moving.

She let out a trembling breath. The river was like ice on her leg, freezing it through the thin trousers. It soon began to ache.

The rumbling lasted a long time, and Jennifer closed her eyes. Thunder? No—thunder didn't last this long. Earthquake? Was this planet prone to earthquakes? She hated earthquakes!

She'd dipped her head, focused on keeping still and balanced, her right hand pressing the medical case down on a wide rock as if it could provide some extra support, her left leg freezing and probably turning blue where it was in the water.

Finally, after what was probably only a minute or two, but which felt like years, the rumbling stopped.

When she looked up again, Rodney was where he'd been before, precariously balanced between two rocks, but he was standing and looking uphill. She could see his hands visibly shaking. His expression was grim. He must have felt her gaze, because he turned. Then he was carefully making his way back to her, stretching out a hand.

"What was that?" she shouted, trying to be heard over the rushing water. He shook his head, his expression growing even grimmer as she took his offer of help. Rodney pulled her upright again, out of the water. "Was it thunder?" she yelled, trying not to concentrate too much on how much her left leg was throbbing now as the blood rushed back to her toes.

He gave a headshake. Of course it wasn't thunder.

"Come on," he shouted. "We need to get off this riverbed." He let go her hand and stepped up to a new rock. "Stay close!"

She nodded, and started forward again, following only a couple of rocks behind him. Her left leg trembled, but it didn't buckle—which she'd been afraid it would.

But now she felt the need to hurry, and it made her less cautious. Her feet slipped more, and her heart began to beat quickly from her spiking fear, so much so she was afraid it would explode. It only served to make her even more intent on making it to the other side as fast as possible—and she took even more chances as Rodney's longer strides helped him move faster than she.

She'd stopped watching where Rodney had put his feet, picking stepping stones and rocks on her own. She needed to get across. She had to get to the dry land. She wanted off this streambed now!

She was almost there. Almost…

Her right foot came down on an angled rock and slipped. She shrieked, totally losing her balance as the rock came completely loose...

Strong hands wrapped around her arms and pulled her forward before she could fall, and she felt herself bodily lifted off the stream and onto the soft, brown dirt, landing on her side. The rock she'd slipped on crashed down the stream, spraying up water and breaking in half somewhere about ten feet from where it had been…until finally coming to a rest.

That could have been her. She felt herself stop breathing.

She realized then that Rodney was still holding her, and that she had one hand gripping tightly into his arm as well. She looked up at his face—he was looking down at the rock she'd slipped on. When he looked at her, there was no hiding the fear on his face.

He swallowed. "Are you…?"

She let go of his arm and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close. He squawked, but didn't fight her as, for a second, she pressed her forehead into his neck. She could feel him breathing, his warm skin felt wonderful against her freezing, wet face.

His hands had let go of her arms…and were now pathetically patting at her back through her vest.

"Keller…" he called softly. She nodded and pulled away. Not looking at him, she got her feet under her and stood up.

"I'm okay," she said hoarsely, pulling her vest and jacket down. "Sorry."

He gave a nod, and let go, backing away. "Don't do that again," he warned.

Her eyebrows lifted. "Don't hug you?"

His eyes widened slightly. "No, no…the hug was…it was nice. No, I meant the…" he gestured at the river, and she could see him blushing furiously.

She gave a weak laugh, slightly hysterical. "I'll try not to," she promised.

He flashed a sweet, fragile looking smile, and for a second…Jennifer found herself incredibly jealous of Katie Brown. She felt her face flush with embarrassment at the thought, and she hid it by looking down at the medical case still in her hand. Miraculously, or perhaps because her hand had formed a death grip on it, she was still holding it. She adjusted the handle in her grip and nodded up at him. He nodded back, turned and started climbing again.


As they rounded the edge of the mountainside, they discovered the source of the previous rumbling.

Half the mountain looked like it had washed away, collapsed in a landslide of mud and dirt. It had created a swath at least twenty feet wide, breaking and bending all the trees in its path, so that the few still standing looked like toothpicks sticking out of a chocolate mousse. Dirt, mud and rocks were still cascading down the slope, and thick streams of water trickled down it from the still driving rain. The wind was back to screaming in their ears, no longer dulled by the forest—it swept up the landslide, carrying dirt, water and fog in visible curls and gusts.

Rodney stared at it without moving, his lips parted, his eyes wide. For the first time, he looked like he had lost. The momentary flash of despair he'd shown at the waterfall was nothing compared to what he looked like now. He fell against a nearby tree, staring out at the landscape with an unfocused gaze.

"Oh God," he whispered, his lips trembling.

Jennifer stood at his side, and she placed a hand on his arm. "It'll be okay," she said. It was all she could think of.

He turned a glare on her so sharp, she actually stepped back from it. "It'll be okay?" he snarled. "It'll be okay?" He whipped a hand out towards the landslide "How the hell is this going to be okay? We can't cross that! We can't go all the way back down and try to find a way around without wasting too much time, or running into arrow happy Auggies. We can't do anything! We're stuck!" He wrapped his arms around himself. "Oh God, they're going to die. They're going to die because I couldn't get you to them in time. Because I couldn't think of a better way. Why didn't I think of a better way?"

"Rodney," she tried, reaching for him again. "Come on, we made it this far."

"Because we had protection from the forest!" he snapped, pulling away from her and physically stepping back, creating distance. "The forest is gone here! All my landmarks that I followed are gone—I don't even know where to cross! And that ground is completely unstable! It'll sweep us down the moment we even try to make our way over that thing."

"Then…" Keller bit her lip, stepping after him. "Then we go above it."

"Above it? How can we go above it?"

"We just…we climb—keep the landslide to our right and climb. It had to have started up the mountain somewhere. And then…then we can get above it and continued to head to the ridge you described before, and…"

"How do you know the landslide didn't start at the top?"

"How do you know it didn't?" she replied quickly.

"Even if it didn't," he snapped , "we have no idea how far up we'd have to go! It could be hundreds of meters; it could take forever to get up there! And we're not exactly Hillary and Norgay here. We're not even Sheppard and Teyla. We're taking too long as it is because we're so slow, so unfit. If it's too far—"

"But it might not be!" she argued. "It could begin close by. We just—"

"No, no, forget it." He was shaking his head, walking backwards away from her. "It's impossible! Even if we could get above it, the ground is probably just as unstable up there, now that all the earth shoring it up is down here! No, no, we're screwed. We're so, so screwed. They're going to die and it's all my fault! Damn it!"

"Stop it!" she shouted.

He jumped, clearly startled by her yell.

"We're not screwed!" she shouted again, pouring all her anger and frustration into her yell. "We're just…we can do this! You told me we could do this, and I believed you! I still do! And I didn't follow you this far to give up now. We're going to climb up and over this thing and then you're taking me to your team, and it'll be okay! It'll all be okay!"

He stared at her, his eyes softening. He swallowed and looked out at the landslide. "It will?" he asked pathetically.

"Yes," she said. "It will. Not get your ass in gear and start climbing, Edmund!"

He sniffed, drawing a hand across his mouth and nose to clear it of water, and blinked out at the landslide again. After a moment, he gave a single nod and turned to start climbing.

Still shaking from emotion, she started up after him.


Amazingly, Jennifer hadn't been wrong. The landslide curved up and around a bend maybe only a hundred yards up from where they'd been arguing, and came to an abrupt stop. Or beginning, depending on how you looked at it.

The top of the landslide looked like someone had cut a step into the earth with a massive shovel, cleaving the dirt, trees and rock from the side of the mountain in order to send it cascading downhill. It left behind a cliff-like wall of dirt about thirty feet wide and maybe twenty feet high. Above it, the mountainside looked mostly intact, although a few trees and rocks hung out over the edge as if on the verge of falling. Between the rain and the force of the wind—it was doubtful the trees would hang on up there for long.

Beyond it, not too far from the edge of the landslide, the tree forested ground rose steeply to the edge of the "ridge" Rodney had been talking about. The mountain's spine ran up along an almost straight line separating the ground from the sky, cloud cover blanketing it one moment, then clearing the next, like smoke. It was clear that no trees were growing on it, probably because it was solid rock—which explained why he was able to see the town from up there. Or had been, before the fog covered it. That meant they were close. Rodney had mentioned the hovels were just on the far side.

Despite the evidence that they were close, Rodney's face seemed stuck in a permanent grimace. He said nothing as he scrambled up the dirt and rocks, aiming for the area above the landslide. Jennifer followed as closely as she dared, wishing that her legs didn't hurt so much. McKay had resumed his too fast pace, and she was having a hard time keeping up.

It didn't take long to reach a point above the landslide, to where the ground looked fairly stable. But the wind was fierce and cutting, and it sliced right through the clothes Jennifer was wearing. Her right ankle was throbbing again, and her lungs were burning again—but she wasn't going to tell him. She could rest later. They had to keep moving.

Rodney slowed as he approached what looked like a fairly level spot, about ten feet up from the edge of the newly formed cliff. He glanced unhappily at the ground, and out towards the landslide. They couldn't really see the muddy slope from here, but they knew it was there.

Just as they knew that the stability of this ground was more of a fiction than a reality.

"We should move fast," he said to her, looking towards the far side, towards the ridge. "As fast as we can, at any rate."

She nodded. She knew.

"Just remember," he said then, looking back at her. "This was your idea."

She lifted an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"It means, it wasn't my idea," he answered, looking forward again. Jennifer snorted.

Right. So if something happened, it was her fault. "Thanks a lot, McKay," she snarled.

"My pleasure," he answered, already moving.

The ground wasn't even, and they were still scrambling over rocks and fallen trees—far more fallen trees than anywhere else. The pines were the worst, because of all the spiny branches sticking off of them. You couldn't go under or over them—you could only go around.

They were zigzagging as much as going forward.

Rodney was moving fast, leading the way as best he could. Jennifer was almost running to keep up with him, beginning to feel light-headed again as she panted for breath.

Eyes on the prize, she told herself. You're almost there. You're almost there. You're almost there.

She laughed—repeating herself. Now she was beginning to sound like Rodney!

"We're almost over!" he called to her, sliding down a patch of mud.

And it was true. She found herself smiling as she slid down the same patch of mud. Glancing to her right, she could tell that most of the cliff was behind her.

A moment later, and they were coming down another patch of mud, and she was grinning smugly. They'd made it! They cleared the cliff edge! They had—

The ground rumbled. McKay stopped, his shoulders hunching, and looked up at the hillside. Jennifer was half on her ass, still sitting on the muddy slide they'd just come down, and she looked down at the ground under her free hand where it was pressed against the earth.

Dirt was cascading across her fingers.

She looked up at Rodney, and he was looking at her, his eyes wide. Suddenly, shattering the white noise of the storm…the earth cracked.

"Run!" Rodney shouted, already barreling forward away from the landslide area. Jennifer got to her feet and started after him, but the earth was moving, sliding under her feet. She jumped over a log and nearly lost her footing in the mud, the black medical case the only thing catching her from hitting the ground. She used it like a crutch to push herself up and looked up. McKay was about five feet away, looking back at her, as if he was going to return and help her up…

"Rodney!" she screamed.

The mud came out of nowhere, sweeping his legs out from under him and sending him flying downhill like tumbleweed. "Rodney!" she screamed again, staggering forward as he disappeared into the trees.

Then something hit her solidly in the side, and the world turned into a swirling mess of mud, leaves and sticks…


TBC…

(By the way, any passing resemblance to climbing the White Mountains of New Hampshire in the late fall, and the mudslides that collapsed parts of Mount Ranier in Washington a couple of years ago…is entirely on purpose.)