The Lost

Chapter Ten: Survival

John whirled around as the animal’s scream rent the air, some sort of hunting call meant to strike terror into the hearts of its prey. Dahlia Radim was directly in his line of fire, running toward him as fast as she could, while all he could see behind her was a dark shape tossing around and around on the ground. Crap, he thought, his heart and legs going into overdrive, dashing toward it, trying to get a clear shot around Dahlia. Not much chance of that. Whatever-it-was was rolling around on the ground, trying to savage someone — whoever — it had got. He didn’t have a shot. He didn’t have anything. Opening up right now would be as likely to hit…

Fire lit the night, the bright flash of Teyla’s tracers. Carson. It had Carson.

“Colonel!” Dahlia shouted, and he dodged around her.

He saw what she’d seen an instant later, a second beast on a converging path, springing toward the source of the gunfire. Teyla would never get around in time, even if she heard him shout over the sound of her own shots. John skidded to a halt, dropping to one knee for a steadier shot. Carefully.

A quick burst caught it six feet behind Teyla’s back, just at the beginning of its pounce. She didn’t even jerk around, still trying to get a decent shot at the one that had Carson, trusting him to guard her back. It fell backwards, twitching feebly on the ground.

He pivoted, trying to get a better angle, but all he could see was a tossing blob.

Teyla could see better. A single shot, two. The thing that had Carson scrambled up, a dark shadow against other dark shadows.

John saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. Too late. He swung back but Teyla was directly between him and the creature, coming at her from her right side while she was intent on the other.

“Teyla!”

It hit her full in the shoulder, its weight knocking her down. There was one fraction of a second, one tiny divided moment, as she fell with it on top of her that its head reared up, forelegs extended, a long reptilian head like an alligator, four clawed feet. He wouldn’t have taken the shot if he’d thought about it. It was too close to Teyla. But he didn’t think. He squeezed the trigger in that fraction of a second, not a burst but a single shot.

The thing went over backwards with a gurgling sound. Even as he ran up it ceased twitching, lying silent in the suddenly still night.

“Teyla?”

“I am fine,” she said, already beginning to pull herself up. “Carson…” Her breath caught and she sat back down heavily. “I am fine. See to Carson.”

John kept the gun in hand as he jogged over. One of the creatures was down, dead, the one he’d hit in the head. The others had vanished into the darkness. “Carson?”

The doctor rolled over, pushing himself up on his left arm. “Not fine. I need a dressing.”

Kneeling down beside him, the light on his P90 flashed over Carson. His body armor was ripped and torn, the fabric gaping open to the Kevlar lining below, huge claw marks across the chest. If he hadn’t been wearing the vest his chest would have been ripped open. As it was, there was a deep bleeding gash across his upper right arm, dripping down his sleeve onto the ground.

Carson leaned on his left arm. “That’s lovely,” he said as he saw it in the light. His voice sounded shaky.

“Here.” John fumbled one handed for the field dressing he kept in his left thigh pocket, pulled it out and tore it open. He didn’t dare put the gun down, not with two of those creatures wounded and still around, maybe stalking them again just out of sight.

“That looks bad,” Dahlia Radim said solemnly, coming up behind John.

“Yes, love,” Carson said with a spark of his old fire. “It’s not what I’d call peachy. The bicep’s torn, though it didn’t hit an artery. It’s going to need surgery to line the muscle up and need stitches in the muscle tissue. And I can’t very well perform surgery on my own right arm.”

“Help him with that dressing,” John said, standing up to cover them while Dahlia knelt to help Carson tie the dressing tight around his arm.

“Pressure now,” Carson said. “There. I’m a wee bit lightheaded so you’ll have to keep it on.”

“Teyla?” John called.

“Here.” Her voice sounded strained. She limped out of the darkness, her face tight in the light of his gun.

“What’s the matter?”

“I have hurt my leg.” She grimaced as she made the final two steps to him, not fully putting her left foot down. “That creature knocked me onto the stones. I fell hard on rocks on my left hip.”

“Is it broken?”

“If my hip were broken I would not be standing,” Teyla snapped, which was a measure of pain. It made Carson more determined to act normal than ever, but rendered Teyla sharper.

He put out his arm to steady her, flicking his light over the rocks around them. He didn’t see any of the animals, but they were probably still here. The question was if they were too injured or had decided that the humans bit back too hard, or if they were just circling for another chance.

“Carson?”

“I’m hanging in here,” Carson said. “Dahlia, pull it tighter. You’ve got to hurt me, love. Just go on and do it. Got to stop the bleeding.”

“We need a fire,” Teyla said. “Most reptiles can’t abide it.”

“Nothing to burn,” John said. Bare rock. Some gray cactus things. No brush, no wood, no trees. “Let’s hold on until the bleeding stops, then find a place in the rocks where we’ve got cover.”

She nodded stiffly, lifting the P90 and flashing the light around them. “Perhaps this will do then.”

“It’ll have to.” Two of them, one injured, to cover more seriously injured Carson and Dahlia Radim. Super. If Zelenka were here, he could have repaired the jumper and they could have flown to the crash site. They wouldn’t be in this predicament. But he’d done it again. Shep had done it again, running off half cocked to the rescue without the stuff he needed to make it work…

“How is it, Carson?” Teyla asked, her back to the doctor.

“I expect I’ll live,” Carson said, but there was a tremor in his voice. “The bleeding’s slowing up. I’m a bit lightheaded, but that’s blood loss. Dahlia, be a love and get a pressure bandage out of my kit. Also the antiseptic and the antibiotic gel. When it’s eased a bit more I’m going to take the dressing off and I’ll tell you what to do.”

“How’s your hip?” John asked Teyla in a low voice.

Her lips were pressed in a tight line. “I can stand. Do not distract Carson with it.”

He nodded. “Ok.”

There was a movement among the stones to Teyla’s right, and their tracers crossed as they both opened up on it at once. John had no idea if they hit anything or not, but they certainly scared whatever it was.

“How long is this night?” Teyla asked.

“About sixteen more hours,” John said grimly.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Dahlia Radim asked behind him. “If those things are reptiles, won’t they slow down when it gets cold? Maybe even sleep? They’ve got to be daytime hunters if they’re cold blooded.”

“Just how cold does it get here at night?” John asked. In the exertion of the fight he hadn’t noticed the temperature had dropped. It was a nice, comfortable seventy five degrees or so now. But the night had just begun.

“I’ve never seen it go more than ten degrees below freezing,” Dahlia said. “And that just before dawn.”

“Super duper,” Carson said in a cheerful tone that sounded a little drunk. He wasn’t kidding about being lightheaded. Not good.

Teyla looked at John. “We must find somewhere to rest,” she said. “We cannot go on like this.”

“Yeah. Rest up for a while, get a meal into Carson and some sleep…” Twenty four hours he’d been up. Six more hours hike to the Ancient Warship. But it wouldn’t take six hours. With Carson having to be helped and Teyla barely able to walk it would take twice that. That’s the problem, Shep. You think it’s going to take so long to walk out, but once you’ve got a wounded man with you the whole equation changes.

Teyla nodded. “I will cover them if you will find a place.” She lifted her gun, the light flashing over the rocks around them.

“That’s probably fastest.” Heading out alone into the darkness with those creatures wasn’t his idea of fun, but if a giant lizard landed on his back it was probably what he’d deserve. Except that if he took a hit, there’s no way the wounded would get out alone. He’d done that math before, lying behind the rocks, watching three men pass close enough to nearly touch, Charlie Holland immobile behind him. He’d done that math and let them be. But had those minutes of radio silence been the critical ones? The ones that he could never recover?

“John?” Teyla was looking at him as though she’d asked something, but he couldn’t remember what.

“I’m going,” he said, and started off into the night.

Clear. Pleasantly cool after the heat of the day, a very light breeze picking up. Right now was an ideal time for travel. Except they couldn’t. How badly was Teyla’s hip injured? If push came to shove, that might slow them down more than Carson’s arm.

Just leave, she’d say.

No she wouldn’t. That was Holland. That was Charlie Holland. Just leave, Shep. There’s nothing you can do, you stupid son of a bitch.

Behind he heard Dahlia Radim’s voice, Carson answering her, though he couldn’t make out the words. Cliffs. Starlight. He needed to find them a place that was sheltered, where the animals couldn’t sneak up on them, a place with only one exposed side if possible so that one person could cover it. A little further along, maybe. Not too far.

At least they had supplies. He hadn’t before, not many. He hadn’t expected to be down. It was going to be in and out, hardly needing to get out of the helicopter, but groundfire clipped his tail rotor…There. That was better. A little scramble up five or six feet but it was a sheltered overhang, rock on three sides with a long overhang above and a vertical cliff. The only way something could approach it was like he was doing now, straight on.

John turned and looked back. He could see Teyla’s light probing the darkness. It was a little way, maybe a quarter mile, but in the right direction. And deep enough that they’d all fit comfortably. Some of them could even stretch out and get some sleep.

Sleep. That was the tricky part. Sooner or later he had to sleep. And when he did…

John turned around and started back, the light dancing ahead of him on the jumbled stones.

“Did you find anything?” Teyla called as he came closer.

“Good place,” he said. “Pretty much ideal. How’s Carson?”

“Carson’s adorable,” Carson said with what sounded like a muffled giggle.

John looked at him with horror, wondering what that could be a symptom of.

“Endocet,” Carson said. “It hits me this way. Thought I’d best take it before we tried to move me.”

“Good plan.” Carson’s arm was trussed up, and he looked pale beneath a day’s growth of beard. “Dahlia, can you help him up?”

Dahlia nodded, going around to get her arm beneath his shoulder on the left side. “Just lean on me, Carson.”

“Here now, what are you good for?” Carson demanded. “Big, strong fellow like you?”

“I’ve got to have a hand free,” John said. “And I’ve got to help Teyla.”

“I can walk,” Teyla said through gritted teeth, taking a few steps in the right direction, her breath hissing out in a cry cut off. She nearly fell.

“You can’t. You’ll take too long.” He put his left arm around her back, swinging the P90 forward on the right. “I can cover us, and you can hop along. We’ll all make better time.”

“I didn’t know you were hurt,” Carson said, swaying forward with Dahlia. “I should have a look at that.”

“When we reach shelter,” Teyla said. “I am fine, Carson.”

“You are not.”

“We can’t argue here in the open,” John said. “Those things might still be here. Let’s get under cover, and then you can argue.”

Dahlia shot him a grateful glance.

It seemed like it took forever to cover the quarter mile, with Carson giggling and cursing the entire way, and Teyla’s breath coming in gasps whenever her left foot took any weight, her arm over his shoulder and the P90 weighing a ton in his right hand, the light flickering over the path ahead of them. Whatever she said, she’d really screwed that hip up.

His sweat was cold on his face by the time they reached the last little slope up, and he left Teyla to lean on a rock while he got on the other side of Carson to help him up.

Cozy,Carson said. Just like home.

How much Endocet did he take? John asked Dahlia.

She shrugged. I do not even know what it is.

Morphine derivative, John said. It is a painkiller, probably the strongest one in Carson's kit.

Perhaps Emmagan should take some as well, Dahlia said.

I do not need it, Teyla said firmly. He was kind of with her on that one. He needed her clearheaded, not screwed up like Carson.

John let Carson down gently against the wall. There you go.

How we huddle together for warmth, Carson said. Hee hee.

Teyla shot him a look that was absolutely foul.

You are high as a kite, John said. I bet you're not feeling any pain.

John, I'm not sure I have an arm at all, Carson informed him solemnly.

I'm only three years younger than you, Carson, John said. You could cut out the one part. He put his pack down and rummaged around. How about an energy bar on top of all that Endocet?

Surely, Carson said, and reached for it with his good hand.

Teyla slithered down the wall just at the entrance, a muffled gasp escaping her lips as she touched the ground. I am covering, she said, her light flashing out over the approach.

John nodded. I'll get them settled. He rummaged around in his pack. MREs. Here's one for you, Dahlia. And I've got two mylar thermal blankets in here.

There is one in my pack as well, Teyla said.

John tossed the two he had to Dahlia. Get one around Carson. He lost a lot of blood.

Dahlia nodded, sitting down beside Carson with the MRE in her lap. All right, she said, ripping open the package for the thermal blankets. Lets keep you warm.

You can keep me warm anytime, love, Carson said, with what might have been meant to be a Sean Connery leer.

John winced. Dahlia.

I know,she said, cracking a smile. It is the medicine. He's a perfect gentleman otherwise.

I am the perfect model of the Scottish physician, Carson sang somewhere in the vague range of Gilbert and Sullivan. I rely on pure science, not superstition.

That doesn't even scan, Carson.

I'm a doctor, not a poet. Tee hee hee.

John boggled. Right. He pulled out a second MRE and squinted at it. Red beans with rice. One of the better ones. There was no spoon. He edged over and squatted next to Teyla. Share?

She nodded, propping her gun against the rock so that the light pointed at the ceiling, diffusing a dim light over them all. He tore it open with his fingers and folded back the foil like a bowl, offering it to her. She took a pinch between thumb and forefinger as John ripped open the cracker pack, using a cracker as a scoop.

We have been in far worse situations, Teyla said in a low voice.

That's true. They've been in worse. We've been in worse. And we've been the only one to walk out alive.

Try to get some rest, Dahlia said to Carson behind them. You will feel better after you're slept. Possibly not true, but still a good idea. He was hurt when the Endocet wore off, but it would have to for them to start walking.

You could leave us here and go get the warship, Teyla said. Come back for us with the ship. Her voice was low enough that Dahlia couldn't hear.

John shook his head. There are nowhere to set it down here. And if I can't get it going without Dahlia Radim, that's going to be a problem. He took a long drink of water from his canteen. Besides, once we get to the ship we'll have climate controlled rooms that we can actually secure against those critters. I can't leave you here with those things hunting and take half the firepower.

Teyla nodded seriously, chewing another mouthful of beans and rice. We will walk out together, then.

Right, he said. We'll walk out.