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"Sheppard, you there?"
John opened his eyes and groaned, disoriented and dry-mouthed, stiff from lying on the ground. He peered blearily around—some kind of conifer forest but not any type of trees he recognized. He hauled himself up to sit and scrabbled clumsily for his radio; Jesus fuck, his head hurt. The radio crackled again, the transmission thick with static. "Anyone?"
"Ronon?" John rasped, doing a quick personal inventory. Nothing broken, no injuries that he could feel, not really in pain apart from the stiffness. He found his canteen and took a big swallow. Christ, that was good.
"Yeah. You okay?"
"Seem to be." John started patting himself down for weapons and equipment. No weapons: the P-90, his sidearm and knife, all gone. "What about you?"
"Headache, nothing else."
"Bastards took my weapons," John said angrily. It was coming back to him now. A first contact mission to P8K-739, also known as Modar. The Modari were a people unknown to Ronon and Teyla but the database had said the planet had naquadah deposits. There'd been a banquet, hadn't there?
"Drugged our food, too," Ronon's voice said. John hoped like hell Rodney was okay. The drug's aftermath felt like a basic sedative, though, so probably not something he'd be allergic to. Where was he, though, and why weren't he and Teyla answering? For that matter, where was Ronon?
"Where are you? I can't see any of you guys around here."
"Dunno. No one here where I am either. From the sun, looks like mid-morning."
"You got any weapons left?" John asked, going through his pockets. Canteen, four power bars, the mini compass Rodney had insisted they all keep in one of their pockets even though knowing magnetic north did diddly squat on alien worlds. In his other pockets he found his fire-starting tin, a small first aid kit, and water purifying tablets.
"Couple of small knives in my hair. Strangling wire sewn in my shirt hem. Not much else—that thing with the bouncy needle McKay made us take."
"Huh," John said. "Kind of the same for me. They left me most of the stuff I had on me. Just no pack or weapons."
He got up and stretched out the stiffness in his back and legs, then did a quick reconnoiter to make sure no obvious threats lurked and Rodney or Teyla weren't lying senseless somewhere nearby. The forest seemed deserted, apart from birdsong.
"This is Teyla," the radio said, crackling to life. "Please respond."
"Teyla!" John said, relieved, despite the nagging worry about Rodney. "You okay?"
"I am well. I believe we have been drugged and separated. I appear to be in a river valley—I can find no one else here."
"Yeah, me too," John said. "With being alone in the wilderness."
"Same," Ronon grunted.
"... Rodney?" Teyla asked, static obscuring part of her reply.
"Hasn't checked in yet," John said, his stomach clenching.
"Probably okay," Ronon said. "He ate more."
John blew out a breath, nodding to himself. Rodney had eaten more at the welcome feast. He'd especially liked the strongly spiced stew, and John bet that was where they'd hidden the sedative. "Good thinking. And it makes sense that we'd wake first, having more body mass than Teyla."
"The Modari appear to have taken my pack and weapons, but not the contents of my pockets," Teyla said.
"Same," Ronon said. John knew he didn't actually have pockets, but he had a leather pouch on his belt.
"Yeah, and for me," John said.
"I believe this may be a ratham," Teyla said.
"A what?" Had John heard her correctly through the static?
He heard Ronon grunt. "Didn't think anyone did that anymore."
"I have heard of it still occurring on more isolated worlds," Teyla replied, and then, before John could ask again, "It is an initiation test. Young people at the cusp of adulthood are drugged or at least blindfolded and are left in the wilderness. They must find their way home using survival skills and ingenuity."
"Not allowed anything except what you can fit in your clothes, and they confiscate stuff if the kids wear too much," Ronon added. "And no weapons."
"But we're not kids," John protested.
Teyla's sigh was audible through the faint static. "It is possible the Modari use the ratham to evaluate the worthiness of new trade partners."
"Great," John said angrily. Fucking trust exercises and tests. He wasn't sorry to avoid passports and visas here in Pegasus, but a little bureaucracy wouldn't go amiss, instead of dangerous trials.
"Sheppard? John? Anybody there?"
"Rodney!" John clutched his radio, heart pounding. "You okay, buddy?"
"I've got a bastard of a hangover and my back's killing me. Where the hell are we?"
When they'd brought Rodney up to speed and compared notes about their locations (forest, forest, river valley, grassland), John blew out a dejected breath. "So none of us can see any landmarks to orient ourselves, or show how far apart we are?"
"The skyline appears to be different for us all, John. I suspect we may be some distance apart, perhaps a day or two's travel, which is common in the ratham when several individuals take part."
"I can confirm that," Rodney said. "The good news is they left me my customised scanner, and I can see your transponders on it. The Stargate's showing up as well. We've been left in a semicircle with the gate at the center. So, like, from a drone perspective, using a clock face, Ronon's at nine o'clock, you're at seven, I'm at five, and Teyla's at three o'clock."
"They left you the scanner?" John said incredulously.
"If it fitted in his pocket it would not breach the rules of the ratham," Teyla said. "And I doubt the Modari understand what Rodney's technology is capable of."
"Battery gonna last?" Ronon asked.
"Should do," Rodney said. "From Radek's testing it was good for 25 or so hours. Plus I have a portable solar charger."
"Damn," John said. "Good going, buddy."
"Another example of superior forward planning by the Science Department," Rodney said smugly. "Now, the key issue is: do you all have the compasses I got for you?"
"I do," John said. "And Ronon said he had the 'bouncy needle thing'."
"Yep,"
"I have mine, also, in my tac vest," Teyla confirmed. "But I had thought them less useful on worlds other than Earth?"
"Sometimes," Rodney said. "But there's enough of a magnetic field here for them to work. We don't need to know where Earth's magnetic north is, just the equivalent on this planet."
"Gotta decide what to do, then," John said.
"What? Why? I'll just tell the three of you which compass heading to stick to, to get to the Stargate," Rodney said, sounding annoyed. He was probably scared, that tended to make him pissy.
"That is one option, Rodney. But this is an unknown world, and we are all some distance from the Ancestors' Ring." Yeah, Teyla got it.
"Speaking of that, can you tell how far it is to the gate?" John asked.
"In Earth kilometers, about 70k for each of us. Depending on terrain, that'll take us—"
"Ten mile hike would probably take you five hours, McKay," John said. "And that's on a trail. See any trails?"
"Um, not so much," Rodney admitted."Just the grassland, but at least it's flat. But okay, so converting from metric to the benighted system used in your backward nation, 70k would be..."
"Too long," Ronon said.
"...about 43 miles. Which is 21, 22 hours. And using basic geometry, we're also 70k apart, taking the most direct route between each of us. So almost a day's travel."
"Yeah, and that's on a flat trail, ideal conditions," John said.
"No good," Ronon said. "I could do it in half that, though."
"Oh, come on, I'm a lot fitter than I used to be," Rodney protested. "Since Sheppard refuses to take the jumper close to villages and forces me to walk all the time!"
"Which is just as well, given our present circumstances," Teyla put in. "But John is right. A day's travel on foot is an optimistic estimate. You have perhaps forgotten that we have scant food or water, and that it would be dangerous to trek at night. This world is also an unknown; we have little knowledge of its wildlife."
"Wildlife? I... I hadn't thought of that." Rodney sounded nervous. "That feast hall did have a lot of stuffed animal heads mounted on the walls."
John recalled eyeing a particularly nasty-looking warthog thing hanging on the wall opposite him, its head almost as big as a bison's.
"I engaged our hosts in conversation about their trophies," Teyla said calmly. "Most were plant-eaters, prey animals. But there are predators here called vultek—you would say wolves—found largely in mountainous, forested areas, and giant piglike creatures called braggu in the lowlands, hunted for their meat and dangerous if disturbed."
"Oh that's just peachy," Rodney moaned. "Monster boars, and wolves!"
"Yeah," John said. "So the number one priority is getting back to each other. Then we go to the gate together, as a team."
"But how...?"
John put on his command voice. "You need to stay put, Rodney." He thought again. "No, wait, is there any shelter there?"
"Only some trees, a few minutes' walk away. It's kind of like the Serengeti, mostly grass and a few stands of trees. Oh god, there might be lions!"
"The Modari did not mention any large cats, nor were there any such trophies on the walls," Teyla said reassuringly.
"Good to know." John was thinking furiously. "So you get to the trees, climb one, then find a fork in the branches to rest in. Tie yourself on with something if you can."
"Why do I need to—"
John talked over him. "Me, Ronon, and Teyla are all gonna head your way. You're the rendezvous point, Rodney. Ronon'll have almost twice as far to go but he can handle that, right, big guy?"
"Yep." Ronon sounded unconcerned. "Gonna make myself a club from a tree branch, then I'll start."
"Good thinking, buddy. I'll do the same." John started examining the forest floor for likely-looking deadfall.
"I will fashion makeshift bantos rods," Teyla said. "There are suitable tarat trees nearby."
John hefted a branch. It was about the right length and fit his hand well. He broke off a few smaller branches at one end. A spiked club, even. "Figure out the compass headings for each of us, Rodney, okay? Then you head for the trees and we'll start hiking."
"Yes, yes, already on it," came the muttered reply. "It's orienteering 101, hardly a challenge. Well, except for you, Sheppard. You can get lost in a parking lot."
"That joke's getting old, McKay," John said. "Also, I have a compass."
"Thanks to me," Rodney said smugly. "You all owe me a beer when we get back."
John rolled his eyes. "Less talk, more calculating."
The first part of the trek was manageable but hard on the knees in the way of all downhill travel. The ground was fairly clear under the trees, just a few scrubby bushes and some deadfall to avoid. John wished his knees were twenty again, but then, he wished for a lot of things he couldn't have.
He'd mostly been able to stick to the compass setting Rodney gave him, only forced to deviate from it by a small gorge with a stream at the base where it was easier to cut uphill again and cross the gorge at its head, refill his canteen from the spring, then get back on track. He hated every detour from his route, every obstacle that added more time.
Rodney checked in after half an hour. "McKay here. Made it to the trees, but..."
"But what?" That was odd, Rodney was using their private channel, not the team one.
"The ground underneath them. It looks weird, all churned up, almost like it's been plowed. And there's a mound of dung that smells, well, like shit, and tufts of reddish hair sticking to the tree bark." He sounded nervous again.
"You think some animal's been there? Maybe using the trunks as a scratching post?
"Looks like it. But the next cluster of trees is maybe half an hour's walk away, through the long grass. It's up to my chest, not that easy to push through."
John stopped walking to focus on Rodney, took a small drink from his canteen. "Can you get up into one of the trees? And do they look safe, ah, not damaged or like something broke a bunch of branches off?"
"Oh, don't tell me you think there are elephants!"
"Nah, nothing like that. Might just be deer or bison rubbing on the tree, that sort of thing."
"I'm not thrilled by the prospect of being trampled by bison, either! But the trees look strong enough, and I can just reach a lower branch on one of them if I jump."
"Sounds good," John said, relieved. He started walking again, dodging a large boulder. "Safer to stay there than risk the long grass. Don't know what might be in there."
"Oh thanks, very reassuring."
"We'll be with you as soon as we can," John said, worry clenching his guts. "Why'd you use our channel?"
"Oh. I... I wanted, well, there are a lot of unknowns in this... situation, and I wanted to say that I've been... thinking. About how we left things."
"How we left things." John could hear the flatness in his voice, but maybe it wouldn't come through on the radio.
"Yes, after... you know."
"After you kissed me on the pier then avoided me for two weeks?"
"You kissed me back!"
"That's the point, Rodney. I kissed you back, then you ghosted me." John was tempted to kick a rock that lay in his path, but managed to resist the urge.
"I was freaking out! I've never... it was my first... and if you say anything about two beer queers, I'll—"
"You'd only had one beer..."
"That is so not the point. The point is... it's..."
"Are you in that tree yet?"
"No I am not in the goddamn tree! I'm trying to have a serious conversation here!"
"I'd be happier if you had it in the tree."
"Oh for Christ's sake!"
The radio went dead and John picked up the pace now Rodney wasn't distracting him. He was nearing the edge of the forest, or this part of it. Between the furthest trees were glimpses of a lighter green.
He tried just to walk and be aware of the forest noises—trees creaking and rustling, birds chirping, a faint, far-off yipping sound. Wait, a what?
John stopped, listening intently. No more odd noises, but he felt uneasy. He hefted the club in one hand and swung it a couple of times. It made a reassuring swishing sound. He resumed walking.
"John, are you well?" It was Teyla, on the team channel.
"Yeah, fine. You okay?"
"I am. Have you heard from Rodney?"
"He just checked in. He's at the trees, should be climbing one right now."
"I am glad to hear it. I have encountered something concerning."
John's pulse picked up. "Oh yeah?"
"Yes. A large area of torn-up ground and damaged brush, with the droppings of a large animal and clumps of hair left on the stumps of saplings. I made a wide detour around it and saw no animals, but I suspect it may be a braggu wallow."
"Jeez, Teyla, be careful. I saw one of those things in the feast hall and it was huge and mean-looking."
"I am being very careful. John, do not fear."
"Damn it, that must be what Rodney told me about. He described pretty much exactly what you saw, under the trees."
"Then perhaps we should—"
"McKay!" Ronon's voice cut in. "You in a tree yet?"
Nothing, then the radio buzzed and there were sounds of heavy breathing, and muffled curses. "Fucking branches!" Rodney panted, then, "Yeah. finally. Almost fell when my foot slipped but I'm in the center now where the branches kind of make a bowl."
"How high up are you?" John asked.
"I don't know, maybe five meters? I'm trying very hard not to look down."
That was about 15 or 20 feet, which had to be high enough, surely? How big could a pig get? John remembered the giant head from the feast hall, and shuddered.
"Rodney, I do not wish to alarm you, but I believe the animal signs you described to John may be from the large pigs, the braggu."
"Oh, that's just great. Treed by a porcine monster!"
"Just a precaution, buddy. Stay up there and you'll be fine." John came to the edge of the forest and paused, assessing the terrain. "How's it going, Ronon?"
"Okay. In a valley by a river now. Cliffs on one side."
"And I have left the valley where I woke and am climbing a forested ridge," Teyla added.
"Right. I'm just out of the forest here and looking at grass and a lot of rocks, maybe limestone country."
"Watch out for sinkholes," Rodney said anxiously, as John started walking.
"I will, buddy. Okay, touch base again in an hour, everyone." The others signed off, and the radio was quiet for several minutes. Then it came to life again.
"Sheppard?"
"Rodney," John said, resigned. The private channel again. "This really isn't the best time to be talking about... stuff. I gotta watch where I'm putting my feet."
"Oh. No, no I see that, and I wouldn't want you to... Well, maybe later then. I just wanted to say that I... I can't stop thinking about that kiss."
"Later, okay?" John tried to keep his voice gentle. "Maybe when it gets dark and I'm holed up for the night."
"Yes. Right. Um, over and out, then."
"Bye, Rodney," John said, as the transmission ceased.
Well. He knew what he was going to be thinking about while he walked. The softness of Rodney's lips, how he'd opened so eagerly when John took Rodney's face in his hands, his small moan when John had deepened the kiss.
Sighing, he trudged on.
Several hours later, John and Teyla stopped for the night. John had found a small cave at the far edge of the limestone country that now alternated with swathes of deciduous forest, and Teyla said she planned to sleep in a hollow tree, having chased away a family of squirrel-like creatures. Ronon was determined to keep going for a while, saying he was on flat, easy terrain, the grass eaten short by grazing herdbeasts. The first of the planet's two moons had risen, so maybe that would be enough to light his way; anyway, John suspected Ronon could probably see in the dark like a cat.
After collecting armloads of fallen branches from a nearby glade of the forest, John set about lighting a fire at the cave's mouth. It wasn't all that cold, this world being in late summer, but John remembered that far-away yipping. He hoped whatever had made it was long gone but he didn't feel comfortable dropping off to sleep in a dark cave with nothing more than a stick for protection. He thought he'd heard an eerie howling cry at one point in the forest, but it was far away. Probably nothing, or a bird call. Didn't Canada have birds that sounded like wolves? Loons, or something?
He set a heap of firewood aside in the cave to feed the fire through the night, and got a small pile of dry tinder and twigs going with a match from his waterproof tin, adding larger branches as it caught. Then he ate his second power bar of the day, making it last, and drank from his canteen. The land he'd traveled through had been criss-crossed by streams, so he had plenty of water.
John sighed, and stretched. His legs ached and he was weary, but on edge. He always was, off-world, but more so here. The dirt floor of the cave was smooth enough, and he'd slept on worse, but he'd better touch base with Rodney rather than be woken by the radio.
He keyed the switch. "Hey, buddy, you asleep yet?"
"Oh, like I'm going to sleep a wink huddled in a tree with ravening boars hunting me below." Rodney sounded tired as well. "My back's killing me, even though I've been standing and doing calisthenics as best I can every hour, holding onto the branches."
"Good thinking. I know it can't be comfortable, but it's way safer than the ground. No animals turned up, so far?"
"Just some antelope things out in the grass, but they're small, and pretty nervy. I think they'd be more scared of me. You okay?"
"Yeah, found a cave, got a fire going." There was a pause, both of them probably resting, tired out. "You eat something?"
"Just a power bar, as they're all I've got. It's barely enough to stave off hypoglycemia and I've only got enough until tomorrow night."
"I've got a few; I'll bring you one. Teyla will as well. And Ronon'll most likely turn up with a skinned, dressed antelope over his shoulder."
Rodney snorted, and John heard him yawn, then had to yawn himself. "Hey, buddy, get some sleep, okay? We'll be with you tomorrow."
"I meant it, you know," Rodney said softly. "About not being able to forget kissing you."
"I should hope not," John said, trying to lighten the mood. "I like to think I'm memorable."
"Wanted to for ages," Rodney said drowsily.
John heard a faint snore, and toggled off his radio. "Me too, buddy. Me too."
He wasn't sure what woke him, but he jolted awake to find the fire no more than a few embers, and sensed movement and snuffling in the darkness beyond the cave mouth. Moving slowly, quietly, he felt for a branch he'd put ready, one with a lot of dried leaves at the end. He pushed it into the embers and it caught, flaring up.
Eyes glinted back at him, reflecting the paltry blaze, shifting as the animals paced to and fro, drawn to his scent but afraid of the fire.
He grabbed a handful of twigs and leaves, threw them on the embers, then some branches. Flames flickered up and the wolflike animals retreated some more, snarling.
John brandished his burning branch at them, trying to locate the supplies he'd gathered before going to sleep, just in case. His hand fell on one of the rocks and he hefted it, threw it at the foremost wolf. It struck the thing's ribs, not hard enough to do any real damage, but hopefully enough to hurt. The wolf yelped and ran. John couldn't tell how many others were out there—was it a pack? Did these vultek things run in packs? Probably.
He decided to try scaring them away, yelling at them to fuck off, to get out before he killed them all. Yeah, fat chance of that. But the noise plus a couple more rocks in amongst them and bigger branches on the fire did the trick and a large, pale wolf yipped sharply and turned, vanishing into the night. The others followed silently, until there was no movement beyond the fire, just darkness, filled with unknowns.
It was very late, or maybe early, and John knew he wasn't likely to get much more sleep. He propped himself against the cave wall by his firewood pile, feeding just enough branches in to keep the fire going, hoping he'd gathered enough to last the night. Intermittently, he napped, always snapping awake, heart pounding, after a few minutes.
The wolves stayed gone, but he wasn't dumb enough to think they'd gone for good. He was sure now that they'd tracked him for hours, from when he'd heard the first yipping noise. They'd keep tracking him, hoping he'd get too tired, or injured, to keep up his guard. Well, fuck them.
After dawn, at first light, he keyed his radio. "Anyone awake? You all okay?"
"I am well, John, and doing stretches. My sleeping place was cramped, but I was not disturbed."
"Good, that's good. Ronon?"
"'m okay," Ronon said grumpily. "Got some sleep on a river island. Heading off again."
"There's no way I'm staying in this damn tree all day. My legs are seizing up and my back's never going to be the same. I'm going to get down and walk around a bit."
"Don't go too far from the trees, okay?" John said, gathering up his canteen and club, and taking a much-needed piss after checking no wildlife were lurking. "How are you off for water?"
"Not good. I eked it out but there's only a few swallows left. I can see a fair way from up here but the grass is tall, no idea if there might be water anywhere."
"You'll get thirsty, but we'll be there before it gets too bad."
"Yeah yeah, I know. Three days without water, three months without food, except that's bullshit, what with my hypoglycemia."
"We'll be there, and we'll bring water," John promised, starting off on his compass heading again. "Hang tight and don't do anything dumb. I know waiting's hard, but—"
"Better than being gored to death by malevolent megafauna, I know."
"Well, I wouldn't have put it like that, but..."
"Perhaps if you exercise a little, then try meditating once you are back in a safe place, Rodney," Teyla suggested.
There was a fraught pause. "Sure, because I'm in the right frame of mind for that." Rodney huffed out a sigh. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just. I worry about you all and I feel so useless, stuck here."
"Reckon you saved us all with the scanner and your compasses, buddy," John said, because it was true. They'd have had no idea where the gate was, otherwise. More importantly, no idea how to find each other.
"Yes, well, be careful out there. And remember: 'One does not simply walk into Modar'."
John snorted. "Well, the hell with that, because we're doing it." He made a quick decision. "Okay, Rodney, we gotta concentrate on hiking now. Radio in again when you're back in the tree, and don't stay on the ground too long."
"Aye aye, cap'n," Rodney muttered, and clicked off.
"You two still there?" John asked.
A grunt from Ronon and "I am here," from Teyla.
"Look, I didn't want Rodney to freak out more than he is already, but I had a little wildlife encounter last night. Bunch of those wolf animals prowling around my cave."
He heard Teyla suck in a breath. "You are not injured?"
"No, I'm fine. Kept them at bay with my fire and some rocks. But you should know that they're out there. If you hear distant yipping noises or howls, might mean there's a pack near you."
"Haven't heard anything," Ronon growled.
"Nor I," Teyla added. "Do you believe they have abandoned hunting you, John?"
"Most likely not. Think they've been tracking me almost from the start. But I figure they mostly hunt at night. They didn't come close in the daytime yesterday and hopefully they'll be even more cautious after the welcome I gave them last night."
"It is unlikely we will reach Rodney today," Teyla said, and John grimaced. He'd hoped, but it was dangerous to travel after dark, even more so now he had a pack of wolves on his tail. Teyla was talking. "You will have to fend them off for another night. Did you get any sleep?"
"Some, before they turned up. Dozed a bit after they'd gone. Not enough."
"I can head your way," Ronon said. "Have to tell McKay why though, get him to tell me which direction."
"No, buddy. You might still reach Rodney before Teyla or I do. Not worth it to detour."
"Worth it to save your ass," Ronon said.
"My ass is fine. I'll find another cave, or a tree like Rodney's. I'll be okay."
"You better be, Sheppard," Ronon growled.
John smiled ruefully. It wasn't as though Ronon had any real weapons either, but John would have liked him by his side if the wolves returned. Couldn't be helped. "Check in again when Rodney radios. We'll talk then." They all clicked off.
John slid down a clay bank and tried to work out the best place to cross a small river.
By early evening that day the pace and the lack of food and sleep were taking a toll on John, and he knew he'd have to find somewhere to hole up before dusk. As he'd hoped, the vultek hadn't appeared in daylight, but he'd heard faint howls occasionally. He thought they were getting closer.
Rodney had accepted with resignation that they wouldn't reach him until the next day. John thought he must be exhausted as well, and dispirited. He sympathized; he'd far rather act than wait and in Rodney's place he thought he'd have gone a little nuts. Rodney at least had his scanner to play with, watching their transponders gradually get closer, taking readings for the geologists, for the meteorologists. They'd been lucky with the weather so far—reasonable temperatures, only a brief misty rain, and no bad storms.
He started assessing the terrain for a safe place to spend the night. A rocky outcrop maybe 30 minutes' hike away looked possible, but although it might have a cave, there were no trees on it, and none nearby that he could see. He was out on something like moorland covered with low, frondy plants, and had filled his canteen at a pool of clear, brownish water. Hopefully it'd be okay with a water-treatment tablet. Well, he'd check the outcrop out, and move on if it was a bust.
There was no cave, but the central tor jutted up with sheer, rocky sides, definitely higher than a wolf could jump. He freeclimbed it, arms and legs trembling with fatigue, but he made it, and in the top was a dip filled with the frondy stuff, big enough for him to lie down. Good enough, even if he was exposed to the elements.
He'd just finished touching base with Teyla, who'd found a hollow under a huge fallen tree and had pulled other dead branches across the entrance, and with Ronon, who was resting in some boulders and planned to press on after moonrise, when Rodney's channel crackled.
"Sheppard? John? Anyone?" His voice was hoarse and he sounded terrified.
"Rodney? What—"
"It's back!" Rodney hissed. "The monster pig! It's rooting around down there and it knows I'm in the tree. Keeps trying to bash into it and knock me out of the branches."
"Can it reach you?" John felt the tightness of fear in his throat, in his voice.
"Are you sure it is not merely scratching itself, Rodney?" Teyla might be right. God, John hoped she was right.
Rodney laughed, a grim parody of his usual smug chuckle. "Oh, I'm sure. I looked down, right into its red, evil eyes, and it was fixed on me. It's been trying harder since then."
"But it can't reach you, right? Or knock you out of the tree?" John sounded desperate, even to his own ears.
"No, I'm too high up and the way the branches form a cup here I'm not going to fall out. Just, if it keeps this up all night it might uproot the tree, and then..." John heard him swallow.
A sudden howl split the night, incredibly close. John jumped, then crawled to the edge of the tor. The vultek were back and had leaped up through the rocks and grass to the base of the cliff. They stared up at him, tongues lolling, panting, sometimes throwing their heads back in another chorus of howls.
They might not leave, come dawn, he realized. He had no fire to deter them this time, and the longer they waited the more chance that he'd weaken and try to make a break for it. He was just as trapped as Rodney.
"What the fuck was that?" Rodney, even more agitated. "Have wolves turned up to take on the goddamn boar? No, wait, it's on the radio, but—"
"Sheppard? You safe?" Ronon, breathing heavily like he was running.
John knew he sounded rough, his voice raw. "I'm okay, but I'm trapped on a rocky hill—those wolves that were tracking me have got me penned in. They can't get at me but I'm stuck. And I gotta get to Rodney, get that fucking boar off him."
"Not by yourself," Ronon snapped. "You, too, Teyla. Don't try tackling that thing alone."
"Where are you?" John asked Ronon, suddenly hearing an odd echo in the howls surrounding him.
"Not far," Ronon panted. "Let myself drift down towards your route, hoped I'd catch you up. I can hear them in the distance. Stay put until I get there." The radio. John was hearing the wolves through Ronon's radio!
He felt a surge of hope. Ronon was coming.
John peered over the edge of the tor for the third or fourth time but there was still no sign of Ronon. He slid back, fed up with himself. It was pitch black out there—what did he expect to see?
His radio clicked. "John?" Rodney, back on their channel.
John blew out a breath. "Can't really talk, buddy. Lots going on here."
"So when were you going to tell me you were being hunted by fucking wolves?" Yeah, Rodney was pissed. Might take his mind off the boar, though.
"Nothing you could have done. Didn't seem fair to worry you."
"Idiot. When I see you again I'm going to..." Belatedly, Rodney seemed to realize threats weren't all that helpful just now. "Is Ronon there yet?"
John was tempted to crane over the edge again, but resisted. "Not quite, but soon."
"Then listen, just for a second."
Radio silence, and John thought maybe one of them had accidentally toggled off, but no, the channel was open. "Rodney?"
"Yes, I'm... this isn't easy, okay? I wanted to say, um, before it all, before..."
"Rodney, it's Ronon. We'll be fine."
"You can't possibly know that!" The raw fear in Rodney's voice cut through John's adrenaline buzz. Shit, the fucking boar. Of course he was terrified.
"We'll get you out of there, Rodney, I promise."
"John," Rodney's voice broke on his name and it made John's chest hurt. "I have immense faith in you, and in Ronon, and Teyla. But there are a lot of moving parts to this situation, so I wanted to say something. I wanted to say... that I love you. I've loved you almost since the first time I met you."
"Rodney, I—"
"No, don't try to say anything now, Christ knows we'd be here all week. Just... just try to stay alive, okay? For me?"
"You'd better stay alive too, Rodney, goddamnit, don't you dare—" The wolves suddenly stopped howling and began snarling. "Gotta go, gotta—" the radio died and John frantically scrambled to the edge.
Ronon was running at the wolves, leaping up the rocks yelling a war cry, a giant blazing club in each hand. Smart: he'd stopped to make a fire, get them burning. Then he was in amongst the pack, lashing out as they cringed away. He caught one under its belly and punted it up into the air and off the outcrop; there was a dull thud as it landed. Ronon didn't pause, jabbing his torches at the other wolves, slashing at them, screaming in a berserk rage.
He found the pale pack leader instinctively and they circled, both snarling. Then Ronon threw one blazing branch at the rest of the wolves and wielded his remaining club like a baseball bat, pivoting and smashing the lead wolf's head. It dropped like a stone and the others fled into the night. Panting, Ronon drove his club into a cleft in the rock like a torch and grabbed the other burning brand, setting it alongside.
"Wow," John said faintly. He kind of wanted to kiss Ronon on the mouth like a rescued princess, but kissing had gotten him into enough trouble lately. "I, um, wow. Thanks, buddy."
Ronon grinned up, his face still feral. "You coming down?"
John dropped his own inadequate-looking club at Ronon's feet and got a leg over the rocky edge. "I'm kinda shaky. Catch me if I fall?"
"I got you," Ronon said.
"I am on a small rise in the grassland, not far from Rodney," Teyla said quietly through the radio. "The braggu is still there, butting against the tree."
"Still? Jeez, it's been doing that for hours."
Like Teyla, John and Ronon had hiked through the night with only brief rests, and were, according to Rodney's whispered reports of their transponder readings, only minutes away. Luckily, both moons had been in the sky for most of their trek. They'd stopped lastly at a stand of tall, thin trees Ronon called eben, where he'd cut two six foot staves half the width of John's wrist and had sharpened one end of each—even Ronon's smallest knives could hack through almost anything. Armed with boar spears and torches, they'd pushed on and were now at the edge of the tall grass as the sun rose.
"I have an idea," Teyla resumed. "The wind is blowing from my right, which if I recall is the direction of the Ancestor's Ring. Rodney?"
"Ah, yes. I can feel it too, up here. Wind's from what we'll call the north-east. Blowing to us from the Stargate."
"Then I suggest that you, John and Ronon, work your way around in a wide arc toward me so the braggu does not notice you, keeping downwind so it cannot scent you. If you're carrying torches you will need to extinguish them."
John could practically feel Ronon rolling his eyes beside him—Ronon was an even better hunter than Teyla. "Then what, we rush it?" Ronon asked, slightly sarcastically.
"That would be unwise. It is at least the height of a man, and almost as long as two men, with several sharp tusks, each of them the size of John's arm."
"What she said," Rodney agreed.
"No, my suggestion is that when you are in position near me, I will creep forward in the grass and set fire to it. No matter the size of the beast, all animals fear fire and these grasslands must suffer lightning strikes and fires from time to time. I believe even a braggu will not remain if we start a grass fire."
Rodney's voice, higher-pitched. "Um, one thing, Teyla. What about me in the tree, here? If the grass goes up, these trees will as well."
"It is a small risk, Rodney, but if I set the fire off to one side it will miss the trees, but still trigger panic in all animals nearby. Including the braggu, which will run downwind, away from us and the Stargate, which is our next direction of travel. I suggest, however, that as soon as the braggu flees you climb down and quickly get clear of both the fire and the braggu."
"A small risk, right." Rodney didn't sound convinced. "It's just that I've been stuck up here so long I've stiffened up. Not sure how fast I can move anymore."
"We can crawl closer to the tree while Teyla sets the fire," John said. "If you can't run properly, we'll come get you."
"Might work," Ronon said, which was high praise from him.
John clapped his hands in a team leadery way, like the manuals recommended. "It's a plan," he said. Ronon raised an eyebrow at him. Yeah, that stuff didn't work so well over the radio.
"Ready?" John whispered to Teyla, once he and Ronon had skirted the giant boar and reached her on the low knoll.
Silently, she held up her Athosian fire-starter and nodded. John leaned into Ronon. "Stay here and radio if me and Rodney are going the wrong way. Once we're down in the grass it'll be real hard to see where the damn pig is, or the fire, until it's on us."
He could see Ronon start to say that he should go get Rodney but John shook his head, adamant. "No. I'm gonna go." Ronon gave him a long look, then nodded. John signaled to Teyla and crawled down the slight slope, closer to Rodney's tree and the boar. Not too close, though, as he was nearly upwind now and it might catch his scent.
When he'd gone as far he dared, he raised himself up cautiously and peered through the top of the dry stalks. Nothing at first, just the monster pig snorting and smashing its massive flanks against the trunk. This close, it was like something out of a horror movie. No wonder Rodney was petrified.
Then, to the left, he saw wisps of smoke rising, bending away from the wind, pale flames flickering below. The fire caught frighteningly fast, blazing up into a ragged wall of flame that spread laterally and moved forward into the grass, thick and dry at the end of summer. There were clouds of smoke now, and John began to hear a crackling roar.
An antelope leaped into the air before the advancing line of fire, bounding frantically away downwind. Others followed, but John only cared about the boar. At first it seemed oblivious, then it stopped worrying at the tree and froze, its snout raised. With a wild squeal it turned on a dime, scarily nimble for so huge a beast, and thundered off after the antelopes.
John glanced at the fire again and saw it was much closer to Rodney's tree now, spread by sparks. He stood and ran, shouting at Rodney to get the hell down, to just jump.
At the tree, he found Rodney hanging by his arms from a branch about ten feet up. "Drop! I'll catch you!" John yelled, and Rodney did, knocking them both over. Sparks were landing everywhere, patches of grass close by starting to ignite.
"Get the fuck out of there!" Ronon shouted through the radio, and John grabbed Rodney, hauled him up and dragged him away, trying to head upwind, toward Ronon. In the tall grass, though, it was impossible to orient himself. "Left, head left!" Ronon bellowed. "Now straight on!"
Rodney was limping, staggering, and John got an arm under his shoulders, half carrying him. An ember landed on Rodney's shirt and John dashed it off, shaking off the pain as more struck his own head, his hands. Gradually, Rodney took more of his own weight, got his feet working again. They blundered through the grass which was sharp and left red scratches on their hands and arms, but the fire's roar was receding, the sparks thinning out.
"You're safe, through the worst," Ronon said, and Rodney collapsed, John beside him, bent over, hands on his knees.
"Christ on a bike, that was almost as bad as one of your plans!" Rodney gasped.
"Worked, though," John panted, giving him the canteen and watching as he drank thirstily. Suddenly John was laughing, wheezing, and so was Rodney, spluttering water.
John slid to his knees and pulled Rodney into a desperate kiss. "Don't ever do that to me again," he said when they came up for air.
"What, the being menaced by Pigs Of Unusual Size? Or the nearly burning to death part?"
"Any of it. All of it." He tugged Rodney close and held him tight, heart pounding. "I... right back atcha, buddy," he muttered into Rodney's neck.
Eventually they got themselves together and rejoined the others.
Teyla bit her lip. "Rodney, I must apologize. That was far too close a call."
"Hey, it worked, which is all that matters in the end," Rodney said, and drew her into an Athosian embrace. There were tears in her eyes when they stepped back, and John didn't think they were from the smoke.
Ronon clapped John on the shoulder, right where a spark had eaten through his shirt and singed him. "Good thinking, having me watch from up here. You'd be toast, otherwise." John just smirked at him and rolled his eyes.
He turned, staring back at the fire which was a line of red in the distance. Here and there, stands of trees burned like torches.
"If you can manage it, another twenty minutes' walk will bring us to a river where we can rest," Teyla said, gesturing to the north-east. "I crossed it on my way here and it cannot be too far."
"You guys head off, I'll be back soon," Ronon said, and loped off into the smoldering ash field left by the fire, pulling a rag across his nose and mouth.
"What the hell is he doing?" Rodney asked, demolishing one of Teyla's power bars. "Is that safe?"
"He has thick boots, Rodney," Teyla said, and they started walking.
They'd reached the river and collapsed into thick grass under some trees by the time Ronon caught up with them. He threw a slightly charred form down, still smoking. "Slow antelope," he said.
"There any meat left on it?" John asked doubtfully.
"It is a known windfall after fires," Teyla said. "Larger animals often succumb to the smoke even though not badly burned. Ronon and I will dress it and see what further cooking is needed. Why not wash yourselves in the river, then later, we will take a turn."
"Good plan," John said, taking Rodney's hand and dragging him away down the river bank where thick bushes would screen them. He ached all over and was bone tired, but he was happy. Rodney was safe, the team were together, and brunch was on the way.
"You love this stuff, don't you?" Rodney said, glancing at him sidelong.
"Yeah," John said. He grinned at Rodney. "So do you."
Rodney snorted, amused. "You've corrupted me."
"Not yet I haven't," John said, and started taking off Rodney's clothes.