Thanks to my reviewers for all your kind comments. It's time to start to draw things to a conclusion, though there is still a little way to go. Again, RL and holidays got in the way of this chapter, but the next should be up more quickly.
Cat had some serious decisions to make and not much time to make them. Peering up into the dappled canopy she tried to work out in which direction the suns were moving, aware that she needed to keep them behind her if she were to at least be heading in roughly the right direction; there seemed to be more light coming from her left. In terms of provisions, they clearly couldn't carry as much as before, so the back packs had been emptied of all but a two bottles of water and a couple of power bars each. Their precious sleeping bag had needed to be used for another purpose, as a makeshift stretcher between two long bamboo –like sticks and tied on by the rope that John always carried in his pack. God knows if it was strong enough to take his weight, or to last long, but it was the best they had other than giving him a fireman's lift which she feared might be too rough for his condition. John was gently propped against a tree, eerily still apart from a faint quivering which she wished was more than just an automatic physical response to his fever. In all the time since he'd been shot, he hadn't said a word and had only been really conscious once, but she couldn't allow herself to worry about what that meant. All she knew was that she had to find the boat and get him safely back to Atlantis. She'd worry about the rest later.
As well, she had to contend with Dane. His mistrust and tension was evident from the set of his shoulders and every now and then she caught his pale face grimly looking at her in a way that she could only call dangerously. That was another decision she might need to make over the course of the next day or so.
'Come here,' she ordered. She saw him take a deep breath, then with reluctant obedience walk in her direction. 'Now, carefully, we'll lift him onto the stretcher. You will walk ahead and I'll be following you and remember, I still have the gun. One false move and I will shoot you.'
With a simple, 'I know,' he walked to the head of the stretcher and together they silently lifted it, Cat all the while watching John's face for any signs of a change in his condition. He still looked as pale as a ghost, his skin-colour pigmented with the occasional rosy blotch which was anything but healthy. Briefly, her composure was threatened and tears began to well as her mind wandered to that shallowly buried place where she dreaded that he wouldn't survive; that he would die right here in the forest; that she might never see his hazel eyes looking lovingly at her again or feel his strong arms around her; that Mona might never see her 'dada' again. God forgive her, but she'd already decided what she would do if he didn't make it and it didn't include rescuing Dane from the dangers of this planet. No. His only way out was to help her and he knew it. With a determined shrug and a silently blown kiss towards her husband, she straightened her shoulders, mentally checked the gun tucked in her belt, and gave the order to walk. And the awkward trio once again staggered through the dense undergrowth, two of them with distinctly different intentions and the other undoubtedly having some strange fever-ridden dreams which he would probably never remember if he recovered.
***
When Teyla had rushed in with little Mona and Torren, Rodney McKay immediately knew that something was wrong. I mean, the old Rodney would have half registered that Teyla was upset, but fatherhood had given him an empathy which some of his old college associates would not have recognised. In the next few minutes he'd managed to glean from a distraught little girl that something had happened to Janet. He'd never seen Mona so frightened or quiet before. And, that couldn't be worse timing because she resolutely refused to listen to his requests for help and was stubbornly sitting on the floor, legs crossed and eyes shut. Eventually, he resorted to the only thing that he knew might get her attention.
'Now listen, Mona. If you don't come here and put your hand on this little machine, it is entirely possible that Atlantis will be destroyed or we will all lose our homes.' Nothing. Not even a flicker of a flicker crossed her face. He paused for a brief moment, glancing down anxiously at his watch. Two minutes. He needed to have this damn thing activated in two minutes. If he ever saw Sheppard again, he'd have something to say to him about stubborn genes. One last thing to try. 'Mona. If you don't put your hand on this little machine and make it light up, you might never seen mama and dada again.' Immediately, he regretted the harshness of this threat as two tear-filled and frightened green eyes stared back at him, but then she took a deep breath and dropped her shoulders, so like her father he noticed, and stood up straight. 'Okay, Uncle Rodney. I will make the machine light up,' and she walked towards him, putting her tiny right hand in his.
'We just need to wait for a little longer, sweetie,' he said as quietly as he could, nodding in Radek's direction. God knows if this would work and he only hoped that Ronon and Lorne were out of the way.
At the other end of the city, Ronon and Lorne were fighting battles of their own. All they really had to do was get out of the way of The Genii without the soldiers suspecting anything, but the little group ahead of them had somehow managed to gain a stronghold and were blocking their way to the most convenient way out of the corridors: a small anti-room which held one of the many small Ancient laboratories that honeycombed Atlantis. He glanced at his watch and cursed 'damn it' under his breath, earning a worried glance from Lorne. Jennifer Keller and her team had cleared the corridors of the dead and injured and Ronon and Lorne had managed to get messages to most of the city's inhabitants, many of whom were well out of the corridors in any case, logic and self-protection telling them the obvious: keep away from the sound of gunfire. Ronon briefly smirked at the thought of McKay's snarkiness and a memory of a typical comment made in an equally dangerous situation. 'Oh, that's right, let's run towards the gunfire!' Well, there really was nothing for it now. He nodded at Lorne who understood immediately the implication and raised a hand in readiness to his men and Ronon prepared himself. Do or die, yet again, he thought ironically.
Lorne gave the signal and as one they made their move, but instead of fending off the attack, the other soldiers beat a hasty retreat. A few were picked off as they backed down the corridor and then they were gone.
'What the hell?' shouted Ronon to Lorne, but there was no time to pursue. Ducking into the Ancient lab, the door zipping firmly closed behind them, all they could do was look at each other in puzzlement. Lorne just shook his head back and Ronon glanced at his watch. One minute. Well, there was more than one way to skin a nanthu, he thought.
Richard Woolsey stirred from unconsciousness and immediately became aware of the excruciating pain in his arm. The control room once again began to swim before his eyes, but he was brought back to alertness by the familiar sound of the gate activating. Shuffling himself to a sitting position, he could just see over the balcony and, as his sight cleared he saw, not the black uniforms of Atlantis personnel, but the grey and green uniforms of a small group of Genii soldiers. They appeared to be waiting for someone or something. He was just considering what to do next, when a large soldier came rushing into the gate room, clasping something wrapped in a cloth under his arm and in a gruff voice announcing, 'I've got it. Let's go.'
From the group a smaller man stepped forward. 'But, we have men left in the city. We must wait for them.'
The larger man moved forward menacingly. 'You can stay if you wish, but we have what we came for and we are leaving.'
At that, the green and grey shirts disappeared through the shimmering blue of the gate and at the last minute the smaller man, with a quick and guilty glance backward, stepped after them and the gate shut down. And Richard Woolsey promptly passed out again.
'What the..?? The gate's just activated, Rodney,' shouted Radek.
'Someone arriving?' Immediately, Rodney's hopes were raised. Sheppard to the rescue? Ha! This time, too late and Rodney McKay will have saved the day through the power of his intelligence and not through brute force. Colonel 'hero' Sheppard would have to eat some humble pie!
'No, not arriving. Leaving. And gone,' replied Zelenka. 'It seems that some of our guests have left us. But not all. There are still others left in the city.' He pointed to the small life-signs detector on his lap-top.
Rodney sighed. Heart of hearts? He'd really hoped it was John. They'd had little time to worry about Cat and him but at fleeting moments a heavy dread had cast a shadow and briefly distracted him from what he was doing. Well, back to the task in hand.
He buzzed his ear piece. 'Ronon? Lorne? Hope you can hear me because you have ten seconds to get out of the corridor if you're in it.' Then, smiling encouragingly at Mona, he took her little hand and placed it on the small Ancient switching device attached to his slab. Instantly, it lit up and began to emit a slow throbbing sound that built and built to a high pitched squeal before throwing a massive pulse outwards.
'Oh, crap!' Rodney swore, before collapsing in a crumpled heap to the ground, along with everyone else in the room.
Across the city, blue pulses of light fired the green walls, creating an almost magical light show as they burst through the city's corridors, illuminating them with a kaleidoscope of red, orange and purple. It was just a pity that there was no-one to witness its beauty.
***
Her back ached beyond aching. Her legs hurt beyond hurting. Behind her, the suns shone high above the trees, their vibrant rays piercing the gaps and spearing the ground with an almost perceptible hiss at their heat touched the dampness underfoot. How long they'd been walking she had no idea and at first she thought she was hallucinating when the trees began to shrink and lessen and the ground became harder and more resilient, the soft forest floor gradually receding behind them. There was a hint of something different in the air and she somehow knew, that knowledge that is almost instinctual among mammals, that the sea was closer: a freshening saltiness just evident enough to show that this part of their journey was almost over. And, before she even had time to register it, her tiredness numbing her senses so that she wasn't entirely sure if she were conscious at all times, they almost burst into open air and a flat stretch of land, brown-patched and sere, opened up ahead of them. In the distance, and she sincerely hoped it wasn't a mirage, there was a blue glimmer of water. To either side on the horizon were large clumps of trees and on the left a long blue line cut through the ground, slicing a divide between here and the distance. John had said something about the boat being hidden and since logic suggested that it wouldn't be moored right on the coastline, she had to assume that it was somewhere in one of these copses and if that blue line was what she hoped it was, then the boat surely had to be in the left hand clump of trees.
John? She'd been so single-mindedly determined to reach this point, that she'd almost forgotten him, knowing that stopping would do none of them any favours. But now, she looked and what she saw caused her heart to sink. He looked terrible. His dark hair flattened to his head, the blood and sweat having combined and set, and his face an appalling grey. The bandage, once soaked with blood, was also dry and dirty with the grime and soil picked up from the journey through the forest. She staggered and shouted out to Dane, her voice coarse through dryness and underuse.
'Stop! Put the stretcher down. Gently.' Not looking at the other man, she knelt over John and nervously felt for a pulse. There, still, but so faint that it almost wasn't. His skin was frighteningly cold and she didn't want to think about what that meant. If the fever was gone, that was good, but she doubted if it was that simple. She grabbed her back-pack and took the bottle from it, and with a sinking feeling as she realised how little water they had left, dribbled the last few drops over his mouth, wetting his dry lips and hoping that at least some had found its way further in.
She felt rather than saw Dane's disapproval and looked up at him. He scowled back and, though he didn't say a word she knew what he meant. 'Why waste the last of our water on a dying man?' was written all over his features. And her look back said, 'because he's worth a hundred of you and I won't let him die,' at which he simply shrugged his shoulders and turned again, ready to pick up the stretcher.
With a deep sigh, she said 'let's go' before pausing to consider which way. It was pot-luck, a fifty-fifty chance of finding the right hiding place, if indeed this was the place on the coastline at all, and she had to make another one of those decisions. 'We'll head to the left clump of trees,' she said, with as much confidence as she could muster. Dane must not suspect her doubt.
Again the four-legged monster took off across the dried ground. High above, strange birds swirled, readying themselves for the expected feast below when the monster finally collapsed in the heat. They must have been walking for an hour or so before Cat looked up again. Damn it! Why didn't they seem any closer? A couple of times, Dane stumbled and righted himself, but it was clear too that he was on his last legs. Time stretched ahead of them as did the shadows, moving in front of them like strangely dislocated beings, separate from but attached to them at the toes. Eventually, Cat came too from her half consciousness and realised that finally the trees were much closer. From here, she could just about hear the sound of the gentle swell of the sea and the chirrup of the birds that nested in the tree-tops. As well, there was the distant sound of running water and she realised that the blue line that stretched to the trees from the edges of the deeper forest was what she hoped it was: a small rivulet taking the waters of the rainforest down to the ocean's edge. The boat just had to be in there somewhere.
With renewed energy and one last glance at John, she spurred them forwards, her whole focus on that one spot of potential salvation. She could sense Dane's nervousness and knew too that it was at that point that he would make his move. Would he attempt to take the boat by force? If he had infiltrated Atlantis then he had a chance of getting through the city's defences, especially if the explosion had done serious damage, a thought that she had not allowed herself to think for some time, with all the attached possibilities of harm to Mona and her friends, and he could leave them here for dead. On the other hand, she had the gun. What she feared most was that she might have to use it.
At the edges of the copse, he stopped still. 'What are you doing? Carry on,' she demanded, with as much strength as she could muster.
For a moment, she thought he would drop the stretcher and turn on her, but he seemed to change his mind and simply began walking again, without a word. Tensely, they entered the wood, once again cut off from the hot suns by a roof of trees, the dappled light almost beautiful to her even now. Ahead, she could hear the running water of the rivulet, louder and stronger now, and smell the musty odour of damp fungus and undergrowth, mixed incongruously with the saltiness of the sea air. Then, suddenly there opened up a space in the trees, the rivulet running into a wider pool of water and she spotted the little boat, nestling in the reeds on the opposite side where Carson had 'hidden' it for his 'special' fishing expeditions. She would never again be bored by his exaggerated tales of catching giant trout-like fish 'this big'. In fact, if she got out of this she'd give him the biggest hug ever and promise to go fishing with him one day.
She must have spoken out loud, because Dane looked at her strangely and she coughed self-consciously. 'There's the boat. Now, take the stretcher over to its side so we can get John into it.' Again, he seemed to hesitate, then shrugged his shoulders and simply continued towards where the boat was moored. He even gently placed the stretcher on the soft ground.
It was then that he made his move. With a leap, he was on her, taking advantage of her weakened state, and attempted to grab the gun from her belt. Before she knew it, he was on top of her, one arm across her neck, crushing her windpipe. As she struggled for breath, she felt him trying to pull at the gun and she briefly gave up hope. So this was it? The man who once saved her was to be her end?
Then, she remembered John, she remembered Mona, and she heard her daughter's strident voice in her head. 'Save dada, mama,' came the real, or imagined cry, and Cat obeyed. Maybe he too realised what he was doing, that he was about to kill the woman he loved and let go just a little, because with one last effort she forced his arm from her throat and shouted 'no.!' At the same time, she managed to get a hand on the gun. For a few seconds they played some kind of incongruous tug of war before she felt the gun move.
The shot echoed around the empty landscape, bouncing off the hot sky and back to the hard, dry ground, disappearing towards the distant forest and across the ocean like a stone skimming across its surface. She felt something wet and hot against her side and their eyes met in mutual horror for a second. Then, Dane fell over her and rolled gently off, dropping into the water with the gentlest splash, before his body turned over onto its front and he was taken off by the quiet currents towards the ocean. She thought, though she could have imagined it, that she heard a whispered 'sorry' before he disappeared from view.
The shock of what she had just done hit her like a lead anvil and she began to shake uncontrollably, eyes dry with unshed tears, and wrapped her arms around her knees to try and stop, before she gained some semblance of control again and looked down at John. Not even having the courage to check his pulse this time, just in case it was too late, she pulled the boat closer to the edge of the water and tied the rope as firmly as she could. Then with one last gargantuan effort, she lifted the top end of the stretcher onto the boat, and then quickly, before she could lose her balance, grabbed the feet end and stepped sideways into the boat herself. It rocked precariously as she did so but somehow she managed to safely lift him into it and remain dry herself. Then, she grabbed the little oars, loosened the mooring rope and, without further thought as to where she was going and how far it was, started to row.
For a while, the current took her out to sea. John was right about there being no breakers here and the current was kind to her, ebbing easily out to the open water. At one point, she thought she saw a pale body, already sinking below the surface, but turned her attention to the simple task of rowing. In front of her, the pale and deathly still form of her husband lay, motionless as he had been for the last twenty four hours.
***
Ronon stirred, coming too as always first, and forced himself to a standing position. Next to him, Lorne and Amelia were also moving and, as Lorne got up, he clutched his arm with a sharp wince. 'I, 'em, think I might have broken something in my fall,' he said in typically understated fashion, by which Ronon knew that it must be pretty painful.
He clicked his radio. 'McKay? Rodney? Teyla? Zelenka? Anyone?? What the hell just happened?'
At the end of his radio came a muffled groan then a familiar, but very groggy whine. 'Um, I think we might have overcooked the goose slightly,' muttered Rodney McKay. Next to him, Teyla was already up and checking on the children who looked stunned but unhurt, raising an eyebrow at yet another weird Earth expression. She could almost hear Ronon's matching quizzical look through her radio.
Zelenka was pulling himself up stiffly to the laptop. 'Well,' he confirmed,' No life signs left in the corridors. If there are any Genii left, they managed to find somewhere safe. We will have to do a sweep of the city, but I think we got most of them.'
From the other end of the radio Ronon said, 'Understood. We will check. Are you all alright? The children? Teyla?'
'Yes, we are all fine,' she answered. 'Do you need any help?'
'No. Look after the children and check on everyone else, if you can. ' And with that, Ronon was gone, doing what he did best: doing.
Rodney walked over to Zelenka and pushed him unceremoniously out of the way. Business as usual, grumbled the little Czech to himself. 'Okay. So, systems are coming back on line. Not everything is working, but all the important ones are. The shield is now....up...and the generators are all on line. It'll take a bit of work but I think we can do the important repairs in a few days. The decorators will have to come in later! ' With a sudden guilty afterthought, he clicked his radio again. 'Katie? Are you and the girls alright?' Initially, he was met with static and he could feel the panic rising. He clicked again. 'Katie? Are you and the girls....?
'We're fine Rodney. Just a little shaken. What happened?'
He sighed with relief. 'Tell you later. I suggest you get yourselves back to our quarters. It's safe now, but you might need to shield their eyes along the way. There could well be some dead Genii blocking the corridor.'
There was a pause down the other end before Katie came back more strongly. 'Understood. I'll be careful. See you later.'
Rodney McKay took a moment to smile proudly at his wife's fortitude and then turned back to Teyla. 'No then, apart from the obvious: clearing up dead bodies, healing the wounded, mending the city, where the hell do you imagine Sheppard and Cat are?'
The sensor sweep of the planet showed no signs of John or Cat Sheppard, though it didn't take them long to find the jumper, abandoned not far from the makeshift camp on the sandy beach. Ronon spotted tracks from the jumper across towards the centre of the planet, but they didn't pursue it further given the lack of life signs. Before they gave up hope, all fearing the worst, they did a final wide search and it was there that they spotted the little boat in the middle of the ocean, with one stronger and one very faint life sign.
On board the rescue shuttle were Ronon, Teyla, Rodney McKay and Jennifer Keller. Mona wanted to come to, and Jennifer had to immobilise her with a tranquiliser just so they could get away. Non-one spoke of the faint life sign or of who it might be. They just knew that their friends needed help, one much more than the other.
Cat heard before she saw the jumper and the sight stopped her rowing, never to start again. Instantly, she was up and kneeling over John. He looked dead. Trembling, she put her fingers to his pulse. Nothing. She was too late. She was vaguely aware of the jumper landing on the water and then its shield being extended to cover the rowing boat and of kind and familiar voices. She heard her voice squeak painfully, 'he's dead. I'm too late,' before she passed out and was carried gently into the back of the jumper. Behind her she didn't see the mad scramble to save Colonel John Sheppard. She didn't hear him being laid in the jumper. She didn't see Jennifer Keller shouting to the pilot to get them back to Atlantis and quickly. She didn't hear the panicked voices of his oldest friends as their doctor tried to pump life back into him. And with the rest of his friends she had no idea whether Atlantis' military commander would be returning home dead or alive.
Please R & R if you want to hear more. I mean, there's still some whump to come and loose ends to tie up. What did The Genii take from Atlantis? Will John Sheppard make it? Will he be alright if he does? Do you want more East Pier, my thunker friends?? It's in your hands!!!