Hostile Ground Part 23

"Thank you," he said and, cognizant of the hunger in this place, added, "I'd be honored to share my food with you, while I wait."

He shucked off his pack and dug out one of his last MREs. Faith watched in astonishment as he pulled it open and shared out the bounty between them. Although the short rations left him hungry, Hunter, Faith and their child ate as if it were a feast.

After the food was gone, the child curled up to sleep on a narrow pallet at the back of the shack, Faith sitting with him and stroking his head as she talked quietly with Hunter. It was impossible for Daniel not to overhear their conversation, though he sat as far away as possible on the other side of the fire.

"I went to Dix, after you was s.n.a.t.c.hed," Faith murmured. "Like you said I should."

"Did they help you?"

She nodded, gestured to a few small packages next to the wall. "Zuri gave me rations and promised more. She said Dix would come by tomorrow, when he's back from up there."

"Good," Hunter said. "That's good to know." He tightened his arm around her and Faith suddenly pressed her face against his shoulder, as if her strength had cracked for a moment.

Daniel heard her quiet tears, m.u.f.fled against Hunter's shoulder, and turned his eyes away, offering them at least the illusion of privacy.

He stared into the fire instead, watching its ever changing dance. It had been over five hours since he'd said goodbye to Sam and Teal'c and still he'd had no contact. Sam had told him to wait ten hours, but with every moment that pa.s.sed his fear grew. Sitting there, helpless and idle while his friends were in trouble, went against all his instincts. And it was tortuous, it was almost impossible.

He lifted a hand to his radio for a moment, willing it to jump into life, for Sam's voice to crackle over the airwaves telling him they were free and everyone was safe. But he heard only silence, the hiss of the fire and Faith's tearful breathing.

"Your friends are real smart and well-armed," Hunter said suddenly, as if guessing the path of Daniel's thoughts. "If anyone can evade the s.n.a.t.c.hers, it's them."

He glanced up. "Yeah," he said. "I know."

"Don't you give up," Faith added quietly, wiping at her face with one hand. "You give up, you die." She leaned her head against her husband's shoulder. "Anyways, sometimes miracles happen."

"By Hecate's will," Hunter said and Faith nodded, reaching up to press two fingers against the symbol on his forehead and then her own. Like a blessing, Daniel thought, and remembered the salutes Hunter had received on their way through the camp.

He figured that Hunter must be a kind of miracle to the people in the camp: the man who'd returned from the dead. But while Hunter might credit divine intervention for saving him, Daniel knew that it was SG-1 who'd preformed the miracle and that gave him a little hope of his own.

Saving Hunter from the Amam wasn't the first miracle SG-1 had performed. He just had to hope it wasn't the last.

Jack tried to move without moving, a subtle shifting of his feet. Crazy's eyes were closed, its claws scratch-scratch-scratching. Blue light glinted across the black sheen of the Beretta. To reach it, he'd have to come within inches of the unhinged Amam, so when he made his move, it would need to be fast.

He glanced down at the handgun and then back up at Crazy. The thing was watching him.

Jack froze. But it was too late.

Crazy casually looked down at the gun and then reached out to pick it up. It held it by the grip and sniffed along the barrel. "This object, a weapon?" It regarded the gun with an expression of doubt. "Inefficient. Rudimentary. Yet it makes you feel safe?"

It would if I could get my d.a.m.n hands on it and shove it down your throat.

"Why would you shun the might of Lantis for such simplicity? With such blood as yours you could be the destroyer of worlds."

"Like you did to this planet?" asked Jack, wondering how far he'd get along the hallway before Crazy was on him. Would he make it to the next doorway? Even if he could, by the sound of the footfalls beyond, there was a heavy guard presence. His odds were slim, but that open door was so d.a.m.n close.

Crazy laughed, a dry, hacking sound. "We did nothing to this planet. So many souls, such abundance." The thing stood up, smacking its lips, then began stalking towards Jack. He backed away, disgusted. "Why would we destroy it?"

"Then who... ?"

A loud boom echoed through the ship, shaking the ground beneath Jack's feet. Along the hall, the steady sound of footsteps had turned to running. Crazy darted to the door and, for the first time, Jack saw genuine alarm on its face. Something had happened, something the Amam hadn't bargained on.

Jack's stomach lurched, a good feeling, one that got his blood up, knowing instinctively who was responsible.

SG-1.

Crazy marched out into the hall, started scrutinizing a panel that had appeared in the wall. A huge area glowed red. The creature wailed, rage and despair in the one sound. It whirled on Jack, but he was already moving. He smashed his fist into the thing's face, driving it backward, but not to the ground. His Beretta dropped from Crazy's grasp and Jack grabbed it.

Only then did he realize his mistake, something that had escaped him in the gloom of the cell. The gun wasn't loaded.

A bright blossom of pain exploded through his temple, as Crazy cold-c.o.c.ked him, sending him flying across the floor. Jack shook the ringing from his head, determined not to lose whatever advantage he had.

He pulled himself to his feet, acting more dazed than he actually felt. His earlier fatigue had gone. Rage and adrenaline fuelled him now. Crazy advanced, but Jack was ready. One way or another, he was getting out of this.

Sam sprinted through the hallways of the ship, hoping her sense of direction didn't fail her now. Smoke bloomed through the winding corridors and dark shapes came at them through the murk. She took them down with her MP5, while Teal'c handled any threat from the rear.

The lab had gone up like a firework and Sam wondered what sort of explosive power the alien ordinance within had contained. They'd scavenged what they could before lighting it up - including the colonel's pack and MP5 - and, thank G.o.d, the explosion had packed a big enough punch. The next part of the plan depended on it.

Two Amam guards came out of the smoke to her left. She spun, spraying fire, too close to take proper aim. The guards just kept coming and Sam felt a searing pain along her upper arm.

No time to check it out now, she'd deal with it later.

"Teal'c! This way!" she called, darting off to the right. The brig should be around there somewhere, but with the smoke and the chaos she started to worry they'd got turned around somehow. Was it this - ?

Something barreled into her, knocking her to the floor, pinning her down and knocking the gun from her hands. She heard the hiss of Teal'c's staff weapon opening...

"Teal'c! Don't shoot - it's me!"

"O'Neill."

Adrenaline high, Sam almost laughed in relief. Colonel O'Neill's weight disappeared from her and she grabbed up her weapon as he pulled her to her feet. "Colonel, how did you - ?"

"Later, Carter. My escape isn't exactly one hundred percent complete."

"Lanteaaaaan! I will hunt you!" The banshee wail came from somewhere in the colonel's wake, a nerve-shredding sound. "I can smell your blood!"

"I suggest we depart this place, O'Neill."

"Ya think?"

A shambling figure rounded the corner, inhuman in every sense. Behind it, Amam moved in the smoke, gathering to strike. Sam swallowed and took a step back, lifted her weapon.

"Carter?" the colonel breathed. "Run."

They ran.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

Daniel was on his feet and out the door in a flash. A dull boom still ricocheted around the mountains as smoke billowed from one side of the Amam ship.

"Sam," he breathed. He wasn't sure whether to be pleased or terrified by the development, but at least something was happening.

"You think your people done that?" Hunter said, following him outside.

"I just hope they meant to."

There was a beat of silence while they both watched the ship, waiting for the next explosion. But nothing else happened. "You know," Hunter mused, "one day I'm gonna watch that whole darn thing burn."

Daniel couldn't help smiling at the certainty in his voice. It was a young man's certainty, the kind that hadn't had its optimistic corners knocked off yet. He remembered when he'd felt like that himself. "Listen," he said, glancing at Hunter. "I need to help my friends now. If they escaped the ship, they'll be heading down to the camp and I need to show them the way."

Hunter turned his gaze from the smoking ship and back to Daniel. "I'll take you out to the boundary," he said, "but we gotta hurry. It's dangerous outside after dark."

Daniel glanced around at the other people who stood staring at the smoke drifting in the misty evening air. "Because people might attack us for food?"

Hunter shook his head. "Because at night the s.n.a.t.c.hers come to hunt."

Daniel took that in, nodded, and then glanced past Hunter toward Faith who stood in the doorway to their home, watching her husband with a tense expression. He looked again at the Amam ship pouring smoke into the sky, at the steep mountainside down which they'd walked this morning and then back at Hunter. "You stay here with Faith and your son," he said. "I'll go alone."

"You won't find the way," Hunter objected.

Daniel allowed himself a slight smile. "You think I won't be able to see that Amam ship from anywhere in the camp?"

"And to find our home again?"

"Trust me. I have a good sense of direction."

"But you -"

"Hunter," Faith said from where she still stood in the doorway. "Please."

Daniel reached out and put his hand on Hunter's shoulder. "You've done enough for us," he said. "And I can do this myself."

Hunter looked torn for a moment, but then nodded. "If you're not back by dawn, I'll come lookin'."

"Okay," Daniel agreed. "Now go be with your family."

The journey back out to the perimeter was much faster than the journey in, partly because Daniel was running and partly because no one was getting in his way. Everyone was hunkering down inside, a sense of anxious expectation pervading the whole camp. Daniel doubted the explosion on the ship had done much to steady anyone's nerves and there was certainly no sense of celebration in the camp. It made him wonder about the relationship these people had with the Amam - both the givers of life and the bringers of death.

As the feeding station grew closer, he slowed to a walk to catch his breath. Stealth, he thought, might be helpful too, although so far he'd seen no sign of the Amam and he'd heard no tell-tale rattle of gunfire. Both of which could either be good or bad news, but he didn't dare break radio silence to find out.

The feeding station was on his right now, the shacks thinning out the closer he got to it and to the edge of the camp. He tried to imagine what it must be like on the days when the Amam delivered rations - did the people fight for them, or had they organized a fair way of distribution? Perhaps this Dix character was involved in the running of the camp? Faith's story of going to see him, and of being given some kind of food after her husband was taken, seemed to indicate that a social structure existed, although - His train of thought was abruptly derailed by a flash of blue energy up on the mountainside, halfway down the slope. A moment later came the distant report of an MP5. His gut tightened: they were off the ship, they were fighting.

At least, some of them were.

He made his way beyond the last of the shacks and took cover behind a stub of something that might once have been a wall. It was full dark now and Daniel didn't dare risk his flashlight, but he ran his hand over the surface and it felt like old brickwork. Someone might have lived there once, he thought, before the war that had destroyed this city.

If there was a moon in orbit around the planet, the clouds hung too low to let it shine. The only light came from the strange bioluminescent glow of the Amam ship and the s.n.a.t.c.hes of firelight escaping from the camp behind him. But his eyes were used to the dark and he could pick out the tree line that marked the edge of the mountainside's spa.r.s.e forest.

He checked his watch. Ten minutes since the brief firefight and no contact. Nothing. They could be dead. They could be somewhere in the trees. All he could do was wait.

Cold, a real mountain cold that was sharp and bitter, made his breath mist in front of his face. He thought with regret of his Parka back at the SGC, but his adrenaline was high, everything on full alert, and that was enough to keep him warm for now. Nevertheless, he was aware that he couldn't sit there all night. If they didn't come soon, he'd have to find shelter or succ.u.mb to hypothermia. He pulled his hands from his pockets, blew on them to warm them, and then froze.

There was movement in the trees, a flash of something. Slowly, Daniel reached down and pulled his Beretta free of its holster. His mouth was suddenly dry, too dry to swallow, as he rested his hands on the brickwork and trained the weapon on the trees. Blinking against the dark, he strained to see. Had he been mistaken? No, there it was again, movement in the trees along the ridge where he and Hunter had stood and first looked out across the camp.

SG-1 or Amam? Possibly both.

He could hear footfalls now, a skittering of rocks as if someone had slipped or stumbled coming down the slope. Daniel licked his dry lips, tightened his grip on the gun. And then there was a figure in the dark, emerging from the trees. Daniel flicked off the safety, the click sounding loud in the night.

Someone called out, "Hold your fire!"

Heart hammering, it took a moment before the voice penetrated the sound of blood rushing through his ears. But he didn't lower his weapon, peering through the darkness as two other silhouettes materialized from the trees.

"Daniel?"

"Oh thank G.o.d." Relief washed through him at the sound of Jack's voice, his gun sagging against the rock and his finger slackening on the trigger. "Over here," he said, and climbed to his feet, holstering his Berretta.

Jack appeared from the darkness first, looking weary but unharmed. Sam and Teal'c were a step behind. "Hey," Jack said, laconic as ever, "thanks for not shooting."

"You're welcome." Daniel glanced past them, up toward the ship. "You didn't bring any friends?"

Jack shrugged. "A couple tried to tag along. We changed their minds."

"It is possible," Teal'c said, "that more will pursue us."

"Likely, in fact," Sam added with a wary glance over her shoulder. Her arm, Daniel noticed, was bandaged. "We need to hide," she said. "And the colonel needs to rest."

"We all need to rest," Jack corrected.

Daniel smiled. "Well, I know just the place."

Daniel seemed to have a good idea where he was going, which was lucky, because Jack was too tired to do anything but follow him as they picked their way through the ramshackle camp. "Hey," he said, touching Daniel's shoulder. "Check that out."

He gestured off to their right, squinting through the crowding darkness to where he could just make out the distinctive shape of a Death Glider's wing that had been co-opted into the lean-to wall of a house.

"Interesting," Daniel said. "I guess Elspeth's stories about the 'old G.o.ds' had some truth in them after all."

"Yeah. And maybe not-so-old-G.o.ds, if Hunter's right about this Dix character."

Daniel nodded, mulling over the idea as they walked. "He seems to think that Hecate would help us - that the Amam are her enemy."

"Yeah, well, I'll believe that when I see it."