Warnings:Includes character death.
Summary: Rodney's nightmare had started with a bite. A small child in the village they'd visited had bitten Teyla's hand, and when she'd turned around towards them, her eyes had been dull and her face blank.
AN: For the spook_me challenge, prompts: zombies, insects. Set somewhere mid-season two and going very AU from there. And for once, gen instead of slash. Mostly Rodney, because I procrastinated too long to make this story proper team-fic.
In conclusion: horror's not my genre. *g*
Jawbone Festival
Rodney's nightmare had started with a bite. A small child in the village they'd visited had bitten Teyla's hand, and when she'd turned around towards them, her eyes had been dull and her face blank. Like those of the people around the team when they turned as well, teeth bared, slowly approaching at first, then faster when their prey had started fighting back with Ronon's energy weapon and Sheppard's P-90.
The bullets barely slowed them down unless you blew away half of their heads. Rodney had almost thrown up when Sheppard had discovered that, and consequently aimed his shots significantly higher than before. Yet it had been Ronon who'd killed Teyla, firing at her again and again and again until her body had seemed to… short out, somehow, and she'd dropped to the ground, limbs still jerking, like a broken mechanical toy.
Rodney had wanted to stop to pick her up. It had seemed wrong to leave her behind like this. But Ronon's grip around his elbow had been like a steel trap as he dragged him away.
Judging by the hard line of Sheppard's mouth, the colonel hadn't been too happy, either.
They'd stumbled out of the village and into the woods, where Ronon had pushed Rodney down a ravine when the villagers had reached them. It was a short slide through moss and sticks and dead leaves, leaving him more dirty than hurt, and above him, he could still hear Sheppard firing.
"Go back to the Gate," Sheppard had ordered, and Rodney had started to protest, "But-"
"McKay!" Another staccato-burst of gunfire. "Tell Atlantis to send reinforcements, I'll try to get Ronon!"
"What, are you insane?"
"Rodney, damn it, move your ass and go!"
And that had been an order, and Rodney had obeyed, turning and running off into the darkness.
Which led him to now. Alone in the middle of the forest, no moon, his flashlight illuminating not nearly enough, Rodney tried to make his way through the underbrush, every now and again checking his Ancient scanner for the right direction to the Gate. Branches were tugging at his clothes, scratching across his face, and the sounds – there was still the occasional round of gunfire, reassuring him that at least part of his team was still fighting, still there. He thought he heard the discharge of Ronon's energy weapon, but wasn't sure.
He had to save them. Determination set his mouth into a grim line as he hurried on.
There were other sounds, though, odd sounds. Strange squeaks and grunts, leaves rustling, twigs breaking; God, they didn't even know if there were any predators on this planet, though Teyla had said she didn't think so, and Rodney couldn't entirely suppress a hysterical little giggle, because Teyla had turned into a predator, and now she was dead, and the rest of his team was surrounded by zombies, and what was this, the fucking night of the living dead?
Rodney almost didn't see the villager until it was too late, so easy to miss a silent figure standing in the midst of slim trees and high, thorny bushes, waiting. He shrieked as a pale hand brushed against his, dropped the flashlight. It was pure bad luck that it hit a branch rather than the soft earth, going out with a dull clink.
The forest was dark, completely dark, and Rodney couldn't see his attacker anymore, only knew he was there. He yanked out his sidearm and fired blindly into the night, reeling away when something touched him, but it grew worse, hands grabbing and pulling at him – oh God, was that a bite? – and he fought, fought to free himself, to survive, thorns tearing into his hands. It was a bush, a bush, and Rodney didn't wait for it to become the villager: he ran. He hit something soft that made a dull thump when it was thrown against a tree, but he didn't stop, didn't turn, didn't care, running, slipping, stumbling, running, away.
In his panic, he didn't watch where he was running anymore, as long as it was away from the horror behind him. He was briefly glad to have hit the tree more with his chest and shoulder than with his head, but that was a stale comfort. Horrified, Rodney opened his mouth and screamed when hard, tiny things hit his hair, his shoulders, clinging to him instead of dropping to the ground, moving, crawling underneath his collar, over his face, into his-
He spit, horrified, and the bug made a dull clack as it hit the bark of the tree. Rodney stumbled back from the insects still raining down around him, clawing at his body, trying to shake them off, squash them, anything, as long as they just went away. His scream had grown into short, hysterical exhalations that sounded dangerously close to sobs.
Getting rid of the bugs seemed to take forever, though realistically it couldn't have been more than a minute. Rodney stood in the dark forest, shaking, blinking back his tears. He wanted nothing more than to curl up somewhere among the damp leaves and let his body tremble, let this whole nightmare pass until he either woke up back home in Atlantis, or someone came and made an end to his escape.
Gunfire in the distance snapped him out of his shock. He took a deep breath, checked the Ancient scanner, and half walked, half ran into the direction of the Stargate. His feet kept slipping, the underbrush not quite as dry as the village's earth had been, roots and rabbit holes tripping him up. But for once in his life, Rodney McKay didn't care if he sprained his ankle in the dark or what alien germs might lurk within the dirt. All he wanted was to get back, get help, save them, save anyone who hadn't been already lost…
Teyla…
When he finally stumbled onto the small clearing that held the Stargate, the sheer relief made Rodney feel giddy enough that for one stupid second, he could have kissed the DHD. Instead, he punched in Atlantis' address and sent his ID, barely waiting for the confirmation before he staggered into the event horizon, let the wormhole's bright green rollercoaster carry him back home. Elizabeth was hurrying down the steps as he emerged in the familiarity of the gateroom, worry plain on her face.
"Rodney, where are the others?" she demanded. "What happened?"
Rodney swallowed.
"Zombies."
She blinked. And yes, he knew, he knew how ridiculous that sounded, except for the fact that, "We are a galaxy away from Earth, fighting against a parasitic race that sucks the life force straight from a person's chest, what is so hard about believing that there are zombies out there?"
His voice had been rising until he'd been yelling, and God, if he kept this up, all they'd do was sedate him, so Rodney forced himself to calm down. He knew what he had to look like, his clothes dirty, skin scratched and torn, bleeding, his eyes wide and panicked, but at this point, all he cared about was light-years behind him.
"We have to go back there, now, with, I don't know, a platoon, burn the whole village down and, and, perhaps we can even save Teyla, I mean, Ronon shot her, but-"
"Ronon shot Teyla?"
"What part exactly of 'we have to go back there now' did you not understand?"
Yes, it was probably unwise to snap at Elizabeth like this, but he was on a mission, he had to save his team, his friends, and there was little time left, if any at all.
"Rodney, calm down. I'll send a Jumper-"
"No, it's too, the forest is too dense, we'd crash right into the trees."
"Well, then maybe-"
"Elizabeth, there is no time!"
She stared at him, and he stared back, and in the end she agreed to send a team of marines back to the planet, though she still didn't quite believe the zombie thing. Rodney didn't care, as long as he got his way, and he even managed to convince her that the rest of his team probably needed medical attention, given the way he looked like, and so Carson accompanied them through the Gate.
It was light by the time they had made their way back to the village, the forest now filled with the sounds of insects buzzing and birds twittering. No more gunfire, and Rodney hoped, he hoped it was because the nightmare had ended with sunrise.
Idly, he wondered what Carter would have to say about him, now that he had managed to lose his entire team because he was too slow, too poorly trained, to save them. Don't send the physicist on a rescue mission – it's not his field of operation.
God. His entire team. It seemed so wrong it actually, physically, hurt.
When they approached the village, the marines fell back, fanned out a little, but Rodney could tell they were still humouring him more than anything else. Next to him, Carson was panting, and for a brief moment, Rodney almost pitied him: the man didn't get out of his infirmary nearly enough.
The village was as they had left it, silent and serene, no sign of dead bodies on the dirt around the huts. People were watching them as they walked by, between crude houses and around wooden carts, until Rodney spotted Sheppard's familiar figure leaning against a simple stone well, his back to them. He couldn't help it; he picked up the pace, drawn to the man like there was some kind of string connecting them, pulling at him.
"Colonel!"
There was no reaction. Rodney swallowed, steps faltering, his hope running out like water from a broken bottle. He had seen enough movies to know this kind of thing hardly ever ended well, but still…
"Rodney?"
Carson sounded nervous, like he, too, could tell that something was off, but Rodney ignored him. Somehow, his fear had deserted him at the sight of Sheppard slouching against that well, and he was feeling calmer that he ever had.
The entire team. And now he knew how, exactly, that had been wrong.
"Colonel?"
Cautiously, he put a hand on Sheppard's shoulder.
The bite, when it came, was no real surprise.
~~~
End.