Sumner's heart thundered fast and ragged as he followed the Wraith to a long table at the center of the room, a banqueting table laden with an exotic feast. But no one was eating. A solitary man sat in one of the high-backed gothic chairs, and he seemed long dead. His face was withered, his limbs and hands nothing but skin slumped over bone. Dead two years, Sumner thought, until he saw the man's clothing. His pulse stuttered in shock; the husk of a corpse was Toran. Over the man's heart five small puncture wounds still oozed blood; they were the only visible marks on his body.
Adrenaline tasted bitter in his mouth and he spun in a nervous circle, watching the whispering shadows. He wanted to yell out, to demand that they stop hiding in the dark, stop drifting just outside his vision, but his throat felt dry and-
A phantom dropped from the ceiling, right behind him. He spun, hand reaching for a weapon that was long gone, and found himself face-to-face with a nightmare. Another Wraith, female and dressed in white — a parody of allure, her lithe figure snaking towards him and her hellish mouth reeking of slaughter.
Her voice, a mere hiss, cut the silence. "You must feel hunger by now."
Sumner just stared, tried to swallow and find his voice, but he'd never felt such stomach-churning horror. It took all his effort not to back off as she glided like a ghost toward him, her pallid face and lifeless eyes turning him as cold as death.
I'm already dead. I'm already dead…
They'd found it almost immediately. The Wraith fortress — for want of a better word — was built into the side of the mountain and the scramble up the rubble below had been easy. He was tempted to say too easy, but aside from the cliche Sheppard was pretty sure things would be getting tough real soon. They were crouched now in the dank catacombs of the fortress, the air thick and musty and very, very old. It didn't feel like anyone had been down here in years.
Except for the footsteps. He paused in setting the detonator on the C4 and held up a hand to still Ford. The kid quit moving and they both listened as the footsteps drew closer. Much closer. He held his breath, eyes fixed on Ford. The lieutenant's eyes were wide, and he was breathing slowly through his mouth to make no noise.
The footsteps were accompanied by a stench, like decomposing flesh, and Sheppard's nostrils flared in disgust. Glancing up from his hiding place, he watched the creature stalk past. It was huge, taller than a man and broad. Damn thing looked hard to take down. Its lank hair was long, its face distorted by a mouthful of teeth — or fangs. Images of werewolves and vampires sprung to mind. Damn it, where was Buffy when you needed her…
The Wraith paused, sniffed at the air, and Sheppard's fingers tightened on his weapon. But after a moment it moved on, its footsteps echoing back down the corridor as it paced away and disappeared into the shadows.
Ford shifted. "I thought getting in was gonna be the hard part," he whispered. "That's the first one we ve seen.
"Long as he didn't see us." Sheppard pulled the PDA he'd taken from the Puddle Jumper out of his vest. Its flat screen showed a white dot at the center, with a second moving away. He studied it for a moment and said, "The moving dot is him." Then, glancing at Ford, he said, "Step back."
The kid just frowned.
"Go over there."
With a shrug, Ford obeyed, and Sheppard smiled as the dot at the centre of the screen split into two. "Yep, that's you."
Ford grinned. "So we've got ourselves a life signs detector."
"We'll name it later," Sheppard decided. He was thinking more along the lines of 'Tracker'… "Looks like they're just up ahead, c'mon."
Keeping low and keeping quiet, Sheppard led them through the silent, empty tunnels. It was like Halloween or a horror movie; if Freddie Kruger had jumped out at him he wouldn't have been surprised. But at last they rounded a corner, and he slipped the PDA back into his vest. Didn't need it anymore. Up ahead he could see a cell, and inside people were moving. Real people. As they crept along the corridor he saw someone approach the bars, her dark eyes glittering in the dim light. It was Teyla, and Sheppard felt a surge of relief at the sight of her.
With Ford hanging back, Sheppard stepped out of the shadows and darted over to the cell. Teyla stared at him in out-and-out amazement, eyes wide as saucers. "Major…?"
He was whisper-quiet. "You all right?"
"How did you find us?"
Before he could answer Halling pressed forward, his face crumpled with dread. "Is my son alive?"
"And well and waiting for you," Sheppard said with a small smile. "Where is Colonel Sumner?"
There was an uncomfortable pause. Oh no. Oh, no, no, no…
In the end it was one of Sumner's security team who spoke from where he lay injured on the floor. His voice was strained and angry. "He's been taken by the Wraith."
Teyla's face told him Sumner was already dead, but all she said was, "We don't know where."
Exchanging a glance with Ford, he said, "How 'bout when?"
"Not long."
He sighed. "Well, something had to go wrong." He reached over, clicked twice on his radio and waited.
"This is Stackhouse," a voice crackled through the static. "Go ahead sir."
"We're going to need a diversion in a little bit," Sheppard whispered. "You ready to make some noise out there?"
"Yes, sir."
Okay. So they were going to have to do this the hard way. "Ford, rig up enough C4 to make a hole and get these folks out of here on my command." He studied the tracker for a moment. "I can find the Colonel with this thing. There's not all that many Wraith around here." He looked up, right at Ford. "I should be able to do this, but if you don't hear from me in.. twenty minutes, blow the cells and get out."
Ford frowned, shifting uncomfortably. The requisite `yes, sir' was not forthcoming. Instead he said, "You're the only one who can fly these people out of here-"
"And I'll fly all of us out. Including the Colonel."
"I'm sat'in' I should be the one to go, sir-"
There was no time to argue, so instead Sheppard simply slapped the tracker device into Ford's hands. It died immediately and he snatched it back with a look; Ford didn't have the Ancient gene. "All right, you have your orders," Sheppard said. "Twenty minutes, I'll find him."
With a tight, concerned frown Ford just nodded. There was no more to say, and Sheppard headed out, back into the shadows. Sumner was gonna be surprised as hell to see him, and the Major was looking forward to the guy owing him one. It was gonna make life a helluva lot easier…
Colonel Sumner stood parade-ground straight, shoulders back and eyes fixed on the dark edges of the room. If he didn't look right at her, he'd discovered, it was easier. Not much, but enough. She was circling him now, her clawed fingers trailing occasionally across his uniform. But her hair, blood red and shocking against her corpse skin, gleamed in the flickering light of the room and kept drawing his attention, kept making him look at her.
"Word of all new things finds its way to us," she hissed. "What do you call yourself?"
"Colonel Marshall Sumner, United States Marines." The words rolled easily from his dry tongue.
She paused in her circling, head cocked. "So little fear," she breathed. Her breath stank like carrion. "Is it valor? Or ignorance?"
Repressing the urge to gag, Sumner fixed his eyes on the shadows again and said, "We travel through the Stargate as peaceful explorers-"
"You must eat," she whispered, heedless of his words, "yet you resist your hunger. Why?"