Chapter 8 – A Doctor's Duty

Jennifer sank down onto the blankets and buried her head in her arms. What a mess. Here she was, alone and without means of summoning help, in the middle of the forest with a potentially homicidal maniac running around. To further complicate matters, this homicidal maniac was somebody she deeply cared about, and who needed medical attention. And she was the only one who was aware of it and could give it to him.

"So you better pull yourself together, girl," Jennifer scolded herself, "and figure out what to do next."

Okay, item one, she was alone – or was she? Jennifer cautiously peeked around the corner before venturing into the main cave, but there was no sign of Ronon – except for several trails of footprints, some of them from last night, and an area against the wall where the sand showed signs of upheaval. The leftovers from her first aid were scattered around it. Jennifer shivered when she remembered the sight of Ronon slashing his arm open, the blood gushing... That's when she noticed that the long, slender knife he had used was nowhere to be seen. He must have taken it with him. Great, as if an unarmed Ronon wasn't dangerous enough!

Jennifer found a spot close to the cave entrance where she could look out without being seen, sat down on the sand and continued to consider her options.

Item 2, summoning help. There was the village, and there was Atlantis. Unfortunately, that's where item 3 came to play. She was in the middle of the forest, with no idea in which direction the town or the gate were. If she set out trying to get either to the settlement or the gate she could be wandering around for hours while Ronon was slowly bleeding to death.

However... Jennifer jumped up and returned to the side chamber. She picked up the backpack, and with trembling fingers began a hurried search through its many compartments. She sighed with relief when she found a com earpiece in one of the side pockets. Now all she had to do was wait until Atlantis called in to check on them when they did not return at the agreed time. She put the com into her ear, making sure the proper channel was open.

On the way back to the entrance, a thought occurred to her. Jennifer lifted the corner of the blanket where Ronon had hidden his gun. She debated for a moment whether to take it with her, but then decided against it. Not only was it very heavy, she also had no idea how to arm or fire it – or how to tell if it was set to stun or kill.

She let the corner of the blanket fall back over the gun. When she pulled her hand away, she noticed something sticky on her fingers. It was blood. Looking around the floor, she noticed droplets of the red liquid following the trail of Ronon's footprints. His bandage must be leaking blood faster than she had thought.

So waiting in the cave was no longer an option. She would have to go after him.

Resolutely Jennifer brushed the sand from her naked feet, and put on the light suede leather slippers she had worn the night before. Not exactly the right footwear for trailing through the forest, but they would have to do. She had nothing else.

After stowing everything in the backpack that might come in handy, Jennifer shouldered it and walked back to the mouth of the cave.

Through the entrance she could see the green wilderness that she was about to enter, and she felt he stomach clench. What she was planning to do was madness. She had no experience in hunting and tracking – how was she supposed to follow Ronon's trail? But when she stepped outside, she realized that it would not be hard to follow. Besides the dark drops of drying blood on the floor, Ronon had been lashing out at imaginary enemies during his flight, evident by broken twigs and white gashes in the tree trunks where his knife had peeled away the bark.

"Be grateful for small favors," Jennifer muttered under her breath. "At least that knife is going to lose most of its edge in no time at all." She hitched up the backpack and followed the traces of Ronon's passage.

After she had walked for about fifteen minutes, Jennifer came to a river. Now what? It was shallow enough, Ronon could have crossed it, or he could have followed its course to cover his tracks. In that case, which way did he go? Upstream or downstream?

Straining her eyes, Jennifer surveyed the other bank for some trace that the track continued over there. She was about to give up, when she noticed a bush full of thick purple berries. That is - full except for a sizable spot that was completely bare.

Jennifer tested the water with her hand. It was cold but bearable. Taking off her shoes, she walked into the river. She noted gratefully that even in the middle of the stream it only came up to her mid thighs.

After splashing ashore, she made a beeline for the bush. It was as she had suspected. Somebody had picked several branches of the bush clean of berries. And when she found a large blotch of dried blood, Jennifer knew it must have been Ronon. A slight smile played over her lips. Even in a half-crazed state, Ronon's ferocious appetite made itself known. As if in reply, her own stomach growled. Jennifer longingly looked at the berries. They looked like the fruit in a compote she had eaten at the feast last night. But appearances could be deceptive. Still, if Ronon had ingested some more poison, she needed to know. Picking one of the berries, Jennifer sniffed it, and then took a very small bite, ready to spit it out right away. But the watermelony flavor was the same she remembered from the night before, except that it had a tartness to it that the sugary compote had lacked. Still, they were edible, and Jennifer picked a handful to eat on the way. Before setting out again, she checked her com again. If she was this hungry, it must be later than she had thought, and Atlantis could be calling soon.

The trail continued up a slight incline. It soon became more erratic, twisting and turning through the trees, but also easier to follow since the droplets of blood had become bigger and more frequent. The poison of this bug must have a strong anti-coagulating ingredient, as does that of most bloodsucking insects. The traces of blood also became redder and fresher, as Jennifer caught up with her weakening quarry. At times she even thought she could hear something moving through the trees ahead.

Then suddenly the forest thinned, and Jennifer stepped out onto a rocky plateau, that seemed to end in free space. Cautiously, she crossed it and inched up to the edge. Beyond was a sheer drop. Way below her she could see the river that must have cut this canyon into the hard ground. Turning away from the dizzying sight, Jennifer realized that she had walked into a trap. Ronon had appeared out of nowhere, and was blocking her way back into the forest. Jennifer cursed her own stupidity. Of course, if she thought she'd be able to hear him, he must have heard her as well.

She looked at him, trying to assess his condition. His bandaged left arm hung limply at his side, blood dripping from the fingers. His face and bare chest were crisscrossed with cuts and scrapes, and he seemed to have lost the knife – at least it was not in his hand. Jennifer noted the paleness of his face and the beads of perspiration that dotted his body - symptoms of shock due to blood loss. The next stages would be dizziness and unconsciousness.

Not wanting to alarm him and give him cause for attack, Jennifer stood absolutely still. This tactic seemed to work. Ronon relaxed a bit, and began to circle her slowly. With bated breath, Jennifer waited until he was between her and the ravine, then she made a desperate dash for the forest. But she was no match for Ronon, even in his weakened state. She had only taken about a dozen steps, when a great weight crashed into her from behind, throwing her face down and pinning her to the ground. She tried to scream, but the breath had been squeezed from her lungs. Fighting for air, Jennifer struggled with all her might, but it was useless. Red circles began to dance in front of her eyes, when her scrabbling hands found a piece of rock about the size of her fist. She swung it backward, and felt it connect with something. A grunt of pain was the reply, so praying that she wasn't doing too much damage, Jennifer hit the same spot again. The weight rolled off her, and Jennifer took a long, eager breath, before stumbling to her feet, and making for the forest again. When she reached the trees, she turned around. Ronon was on all fours, trying to rise. Blood was trickling down his face from a gash in his scalp. But his crazed eyes were still on her, so Jennifer turned and ran.

The going was tough. She had lost her shoes in the scuffle, and running over the uneven ground hurt. But the danger that followed in her wake pushed her onward until her left foot was caught in a creeper that brought her crashing to the ground. Ignoring the protest of her already bruised ribs, Jennifer tried to rise. But when she put weight on her left foot she collapsed again with a broken sob. She must have torn something in her ankle, it would not support her.

Blinking tears of pain away, Jennifer cast a look over her shoulder. Ronon was nowhere in sight. Taking stock of her surroundings, she noticed a thicket that could hide her. Dragging her injured leg, she crawled towards it and burrowed between the branches. Trying to still her labored breathing, she listened intently for any sign of pursuit. She heard nothing for several minutes, and was ready to breathe a sigh of relief when she saw a shadow glide through the trees. Damn, she had forgotten how silently he could move!

Watching Ronon's progress, she realized that he didn't just use the trees for cover, but also for support. The massive quantities of blood he had lost were finally taking their toll. Still, he had not yet given up the hunt. His head was turning in every direction, searching for her as he moved from one tree to the other with faltering steps. But he had barely disappeared from her sight when she heard a loud thud and then silence.

Praying that this was not another trap, Jennifer crawled out from her thicket, and using a tree trunk for support she managed to stand up. Ronon was lying a short distance away. She could only see his back and the mass of his dreads. He seemed to be barely breathing. Cursing the time this was losing her, Jennifer put down her backpack, and extracted a stretch bandage and a couple of painkillers from the first aid kit. Gulping down the pills, she wrapped the bandage tightly around her injured ankle. When she tried to get up again, she noticed thankfully that it would now at least support some of her weight so she could move around.

Jennifer hobbled over to where Ronon lay and turned him over onto his back. Feeling his pulse she found it weak and rapid, as she had expected. Quickly she pulled an IV needle and the one bag of saline solution from the first aid kit. Hopefully it would be enough to stabilize his blood pressure until help arrived. She was surprised at herself when she managed to insert the needle into a vein in Ronon's right arm on her first attempt. Just when she was about to attach the IV, Ronon stirred, and slowly opened his eyes. When he saw Jennifer bending over the needle in his arm, he reached out for her. With a panicked squeal Jennifer tried to scrabble out of the way. But his eyes closed and he lost consciousness again.

Picking up the pouch with the saline solution to finally start the IV, Jennifer stared at it in disbelief. It had burst, and the life saving liquid trickled through her fingers and dripped to the ground. It was over. There was nothing she could do for him now. He would die.