Hope is a Waking Dream

Chapter 14

"When anger rises, think of the consequences." — Confucius

Blinded by rage, Sheppard felt the white-hot pain of a knife in his side as Jenar produced a short blade from his boot, stabbing it directly into Sheppard's left side, paralysing him with the pain. He hadn't seen it coming. He hadn't been thinking, throwing punches wildly, not thinking about what Jenar was doing with his free hand.

Sheppard choked, feeling sweat spring instantly to his brow, the pain intensely concentrated in his side and driving the strength from his limbs. His knees gave out, and Jenar followed him down to the ground, still holding the knife in his side.

"I've been looking forward to this for a long time," Jenar whispered. With one pull, the knife came loose with a sickening sucking sound. Sheppard couldn't hold back a small hiss of pain, his right hand reflexively going to his side. Jenar gripped the pilot's shoulder, pressing the tip of the bloody knife against the side of Sheppard's neck.

"Koyla would kill to get his hands on you right now," Jenar hissed, a manic look in his eyes. "I'll bring him your head and revel in the disappointment that he didn't get to kill you himself."

Sheppard flicked his right forearm, letting one of his knives in the armguard drop into his hand and moving quickly, he slashed upwards, opening a deep gash in the side of Jenar's face. Continuing the movement as the man was blinded by the spray of his own blood, Sheppard stabbed downwards into Jenar's chest, missing the heart by a hand's breadth, but quickly withdrawing and stabbing again.

Jenar fell back, Sheppard on top of him.

Despite the pain, Sheppard managed to drive the knife home with the second blow, throwing all of his weight into it.

The Genii stared at him, his eyes full of hatred and fear. Sheppard leaned into the knife, driving it deeper. Blood bubbled up in the man's throat as he gasped for his last breath.

Sheppard looked into his eyes, trembling with pain as he leaned on the knife. "That's for Gorav and Renee," he said. "You bastard."

Sheppard left the body untouched. He was delirious from pain and was unable to find the remote that Jenar had said controlled the device in his head. Wondering if it had fallen during the fight, he made a quick sweep of the area, but knew that the cause was lost when he heard voices in the distance.

Stumbling into the trees, he moved as quickly as possible with the wound. His left side was useless, his arm pressed against his ribs in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood. He was injured deep inside, and he did not know how bad it was.

Praying that the gate was near, he stumbled on into the night, listening intently for signs of pursuit. The death of Jenar, he hoped, would throw his men into confusion. Unless they had a strong leader to take over, he hoped that the hunt would be thrown off. Maybe it would be the chance Helo and Nika were looking for.

His hopes were dashed when not long after nightfall his body was thrown into convulsions. Barely in control of his actions, he clutched onto a tree trunk, gritting his teeth against the pain and desperately trying to cling to consciousness. Someone, somewhere, had found the remote.

Throughout the night, his body was wracked with convulsions. He couldn't move from the side of the tree. Every thought was occupied with attempting to stay conscious and quiet, despite the pain and inability of his body to control his limbs. Before dawn, the worst of the convulsions had seemed to pass, but he now shook and trembled violently, and he was sick and exhausted, barely able to find his feet as the sun rose.

Pressing on, he made his way as silently as he could through the trees, aware of the sounds of nature around him and listening intently for any sign of pursuit. The trembling of his body refused to quit, and the weakness from loss of blood caused his progress to be slow. It took him a long while to realize that he needed to do something to help staunch the flow of blood from his side.

He stopped, leaning against a tree and ripping the sleeves off of his tunic. Ripping the sleeves into long strips and tying them together was an awkward and painful process with shaking fingers, but he was eventually able to wrap the makeshift bandage around his torso. His side was soaked in blood and he was starting to feel light headed. He hoped the damage wasn't too great and knew that although he had lost a lot of blood, the wound had stopped bleeding as much as it had before.

He tried to drink and felt nauseous. Knowing he wouldn't be able to eat anything yet, he swallowed hard, trying to keep the precious liquid down as he moved on through the trees.

Eventually, he could go no further. Exhaustion was overwhelming him, and he was starting to doubt his sense of direction, wondering if he was walking in circles. He tried to keep going, knowing the Stargate was near, but his trembling legs refused to obey him.

Collapsing to the forest floor in agony, Sheppard lay amongst the roots of a great tree, trembling in pain and exhaustion. The last thing he remembered was watching the late afternoon sun shining through the leaves of the trees towering over him.