STARGATE SG-1: Hostile Ground (Apocalypse Book 1) by Hostile Ground (SG1-25; Apocalypse Book 1)

Author:Hostile Ground (SG1-25; Apocalypse, Book 1) [Retail]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fandemonium Books
Published: 2020-06-26T09:38:53+00:00

Chapter sixteen

Daniel woke up slowly, a gradual return to consciousness that began with a thrumming in his head.

Images flashed through his mind, memories — pain, tunneling vision, the certain knowledge that death hovered near. The tight grief on Jack’s face, Sam’s eyes wide with fear, and then another face, fierce and inhuman, but ultimately the face that had saved him.

Never judge a book by its cover.

His eyes opened on the threadbare homily, but they opened into darkness. Not pitch darkness, though, and he realized he could see shapes and shadows, movement from the corner of his eye. He turned to look, or, rather, he tried to turn and that’s when he discovered he couldn’t move. Something was holding him fast, sticky — almost fleshy — tendrils were wrapped around his throat, body and limbs, and there was some sort of membrane close to his face. In revulsion, he jerked away from it, but there was nowhere to go.

“Yeah.” Jack’s voice drifted out of nowhere, familiar and reassuring. “Pretty gross.”

Peering through the darkness, Daniel could just make him out on the other side of the narrow chamber. Or was it a corridor? Like him, Jack was held fast against the wall by thick fleshy bands, his face just visible past the skin-like membrane. “Jack?”

“Out of the frying pan, huh?” He looked as grossed out as Daniel felt. “One day,” he said, “we’re gonna catch a break.”

“On the plus side,” Daniel said. “I’m not dead.”

Even in the darkness, he could see Jack’s expression soften. “Yeah,” he said. “There’s that.” He let a moment pass. “So, how’re you feeling?”

He considered the question. “Well, aside from the obvious, pretty good actually.” He shifted, trying to gauge the level of pain in his side. There was none. “The alien healed my wound completely.”

“And then beamed us up and encased us in sticky snot,” said Jack. “That’s some mixed signals right there.”

As Daniel’s eyes adjusted to the low lighting he began to realize that they weren’t alone. He could see at least a half dozen other people, all wrapped in this strange, sticky substance. But they were lifeless, either dead or comatose. He had a sudden, horrible image of giant spiders cocooning their prey to keep it fresh. He shuddered. “What is this place?”

“I was kinda hoping you could tell me,” Jack said, struggling against his bonds with a stubborn, if futile, determination that was all Jack O’Neill.

Daniel tried to look further down the corridor, but his vision was obscured by whatever it was that bound him in place. “Where are the others?”

“I am here.” Teal’c’s voice came from further down the corridor to Daniel’s right, but he couldn’t turn his head far enough to see him. “I am glad that you are well, Daniel Jackson.”

“Me too — you know, aside from being stuck in some kind of giant spider web.”

“And Carter’s right next to you,” Jack said, his gaze fixing somewhere left of Daniel’s shoulder. “She’s still out cold.”

Flexing his muscles, Daniel tested the bonds.

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