Part 11 (1/2)
She s.n.a.t.c.hed back her hand, wincing. ”Sorry, sir.”
Expecting another sour complaint, she was amazed when he just said, ”Nah, it was only my eye. I've got a spare.”
Bottling her surprise, not quite knowing how to respond, she found her sleeping bag in silence and crawled inside, pulling it up right under her chin against the chill of the cave. Away from the fire the damp stone seemed to be pressing in all around them. She s.h.i.+vered.
They were all quiet for a moment, lying close together in the darkness. Outside she could hear the muted sounds of their hosts settling down for the night, low voices and the rustle of their straw pallets. It was comforting, in a way, and she could feel herself start to unwind for the first time in days - maybe months. Aching muscles sank into the scant comfort of her bedroll, her eyes closing as sleep stole up on her. Next to her, Daniel yawned. None of them had slept much the night before and she felt safe here - the colonel hadn't even bothered to set a watch.
”So... zombies, huh?”
Despite the tension stacked up between them, Sam smiled; the colonel sounded like a kid telling scary stories after lights-out at camp. ”Whatever they are, sir, I think we can rule out the cast of Thriller.”
”It is most likely that they are Goa'uld,” Teal'c said.
”Flesh-eating snakeheads?” The colonel gave an exaggerated sigh. ”Is it me, or is this whole situation CATFUed, Carter?”
”What?” Daniel said, puzzled. ”Cat food?”
Sam snorted a laugh, mostly born of stress and exhaustion, and then found that she couldn't stop.
The colonel didn't laugh, but she could hear a smile in his voice when he said, ”No giggling.”
And that made it worse, made it harder to stop laughing, and for a moment - a moment - it felt like old times, like things were normal again.
s.h.i.+fting on his pallet, Daniel said, ”Okay, what am I missing?”
”Carter? Care to translate for our linguist... ?”
It took her a couple of tries before she could get a grip on her giggles. ”CATFU, Daniel,” she managed at last. ”C.A.T.F.U. Completely and Totally, um, 'Fouled' Up.”
”Ah. Military humor. Ha ha.”
”Cat food,” Sam laughed again. ”This situation is Whiskas, sir.”
Daniel chuckled and even the colonel huffed a quiet laugh. Silence fell for a while as their laughter subsided, a good silence, as if they were all enjoying the rare moment of camaraderie. It was probably the first time they'd laughed together since before Edora.
But eventually the moment pa.s.sed and Daniel said, ”You know, I think Teal'c might be right about the Goa'uld.”
”You think they're flesh-eating snakes?”
”Well, no. I mean, I don't know about the flesh-eating part, but I do know the term Amam.”
The colonel s.h.i.+fted. Now that her eyes were used to the dark, Sam could see him loop his hands behind his head and settle in for the long haul. ”Let's hear it then.”
”It's quite simple really,” Daniel said. ”The Book of the Dead describes a set of demonic ent.i.ties that harrow the dead in the between-realm of the afterlife. They're known as Devourers, or Amam, who feed on parts of the body and soul.”
”Sounds like fun.”
”Well, they are demons...” He cleared his throat. ”Teal'c, have you ever heard of the Amam, or any kind of 'undead' creature?”
”I have not,” Teal'c said. ”But it does not follow that they do not exist. I have not encountered everything in this galaxy.”
”True,” the colonel said. ”You haven't even encountered my lake yet.”
”Is that an invitation to fish, O'Neill?”
”Maybe it is.”
And maybe, Sam thought, it was something about this darkness that was lightening the colonel's mood because somehow he was more himself now than he had been in weeks. And she felt lighter for it too, because perhaps it meant he wasn't so lost to them after all.
”You know,” she said, ”these Amam could just be the Jaffa of a new System Lord who's come in here and wiped out whoever used to be in charge.”
”That's what I was thinking.” Daniel turned toward her, his gla.s.ses glinting in the faint light seeping around the door. ”They're probably Jaffa mythologized into 'undead' creatures by whatever Goa'uld first ruled this world. Perhaps they've even taken on the persona of Amam?”
”And don't forget the sarcophagus,” Sam added. ”I mean, talk about rising from the dead...”
”Yes! I think we can say we're not dealing with real live - or is that real undead? - zombies.”
”I hope you're right,” the colonel said, ”because Night of the Living Dead spooked the h.e.l.l outa Teal'c.”
”It did not, O'Neill.”
”He's just saying that. He was watching through his fingers.”
Sam grinned, she couldn't help herself. ”At least one thing's clear, sir. Whoever these 'Devourers' are, they can use the Stargate network. And that means there's a way home.”
”My thoughts exactly, Carter.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. ”I can't believe I'm about to say this, but it looks like tracking down the flesh-eating-snakehead-zombies is actually our best chance of getting off this rock.”
Sam smiled into the darkness and, after a moment, Daniel said, ”You know, Jack, it's at times like this when I... I just...”
”...wonder where it all went wrong?”
”Yep, pretty much.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
Hope was starting to fade, that was the worst of it. After three days without contact, or the slightest sign of SG-1, hope was starting to fade. He could do without a lot of things - sleep, food, good news - but hope was critical. Without it, everything started to collapse. And George Hammond could see hope fading in the faces around him every time the Stargate opened and SG-1 didn't walk through.
Take now, for example. Standing at a comfortable parade rest, his hands clasped behind his back, Hammond watched as SG-2 traipsed down the ramp and the wormhole fizzled closed behind them. Shoulders slumped, they looked defeated as Major Ferretti glanced up at the control room and shook his head: another hope dashed, another planet crossed off the list. There weren't many left.
Leaning forward, Hammond pulled the microphone toward him. ”Welcome back, SG-2. Debrief in one hour.”
Not that it looked like they had much to report, but he wanted every possible detail. You never knew what would become important.
Sergeant Harriman looked up from his station as Ferretti's team handed over their weapons to the SFs and trudged out of the gate room. ”Sir?” he said. ”We have a scheduled contact with Tollana. Shall I send 'Situation Unchanged'?”