(no subject)
Another beautiful jungle morning. Summerlee woke the three of them up just before sunrise, eager to continue the hunt for his plants. He swore he’d be able to make all sorts of useful medicines from them, but the last two on the list were proving elusive. Not that Roxton minded. They were getting to see more of the plateau, and that’s part of the reason he came on this little field trip. He grinned at himself. He’s spending a little too much time around Marguerite if he’s starting to use language like that.
The found a likely grove for one of the plants the afternoon before, but by the time they got the balloon down it was too late to search for S. marianum. But it didn’t take Summerlee long to find it once the sun came up, and Roxton volunteered to dig it up by its roots. It looks like ordinary milk thistle to him, but then he wasn’t the botanist. He certainly wasn’t going to say as much aloud since Malone had previously commented on a plant being ‘just a flower’ and earned them both an hour long lecture on the differences between various species of orchid. They ran out of coffee yesterday and he’s certain he won’t be able to stay awake if that happens.
Finally, he digs enough dirt out to pull up the entire plant and wrap its roots in canvas cloth before handing it off to Challenger.
“Ow!” Roxton looks back at him, worried. Was there a spider on it? “Damn. It’s just a thorn,” assures Challenger, showing him the spot of blood before sticking his finger back in his mouth. Roxton nods, still silent and a bit sleepy, and turns back to the pile of dirt to pick up his spade.
“You should really be more careful, Challenger,” Summerlee says idly, going over his list of plants. “It’s taken us nearly two days to find Silybum marianum”.
Challenger shoots the older scientist a look. “I’m overwhelmed by your concern for my health.”
“I’ll make a salve for your hand just as soon as we get the plants safely back home,” Summerlee says unapologetically.
As amusing as Roxton finds the two scientists’ bickering, it’s simply too early in the day for it. “Any more on your list, Professor?”
“Just one,” Summerlee replies, looking up from his small journal. “Yarrow, allheal.” Even Roxton’s heard of that one, but before he can comment, Malone calls out.
“I think I found it! Fern like leaves and bunches of little white flowers?” He sounds as awake as the scientists, and Roxton wonders how the three of them do it without coffee. Summerlee, he knows, doesn’t drink the stuff to start with, but that doesn’t explain the other two.
“Eureka.” The old professor crosses it off his list and Roxton allows the first smile of the day to cross his face. He’ll be glad to return to the Treehouse and get a proper brew. Oh, and seeing Veronica and Marguerite again would be nice.
A woman’s scream cuts through the morning air, long and pained. Roxton’s head snaps in the direction of the sound, lethargy completely forgotten. Malone takes off the next second.
“Rifle!” Challenger yells as he tosses Roxton’s to him from the balloon. The hunter catches it as the woman screams again, and the three of them follow her voice.
Roxton pulls up short soon after they enter the jungle. “Careful, Challenger.”
The red-haired man stops behind him, gripping his rifle anxiously. “What the hell are you doing?” he demands, but Roxton ignores him except to hold an arm out and keep him from going any further. He eyes the way in front of them, cautiously extending his own rifle and lightly tapping a taut vine. Two man length branches with thorns the size of his hands snap up and together like teeth in front of them.
“Deathtrap,” he says grimly. “This grove is probably full of them.”
Challenger’s eyes widen as the last scientist catches up with them. “Summerlee, don’t move!” He grabs the older man, stopping him. “This whole place is booby trapped.”
Roxton finishes looking the area over. With the direct path ruled out, a few detours are in order. “Follow me. Step exactly where I do,” he orders quietly before moving out.
“You best wait here,” Challenger tells Summerlee, patting him on the shoulder.
Roxton moves quickly and guides Challenger around another trap before they hear Malone shout, “Let her go!” Dammit, didn’t the lad know how to wait for reinforcements? He’s going to get himself killed yelling out like that. Roxton moves faster even as a strange voice calls out a warning.
“No! Stop!”
He can see Malone and a strange sort of alter with a pregnant woman on it now, and Roxton starts running as the young man staggers, one hand going to his neck.
Then he falls.
“Malone!” They’re almost there, but there’s a strange man coming up to Malone, dressed in a some sort of leaf-covered robe. Malone’s twitching and Roxton shoves the point of his rifle against the stranger’s chest. “Not another inch,” he warns the man coldly. In the corner of his eye, he can see Challenger checking Malone’s pulse.
“Oh my God. Malone…”
“How is he?” Roxton asks, still glaring at the impassionate man in front of him. Challenger moves his hands away from Malone and looks up at Roxton. The hunter risks looking at them both.
“He’s dead.”
((Dialogue from The Lost World))
The found a likely grove for one of the plants the afternoon before, but by the time they got the balloon down it was too late to search for S. marianum. But it didn’t take Summerlee long to find it once the sun came up, and Roxton volunteered to dig it up by its roots. It looks like ordinary milk thistle to him, but then he wasn’t the botanist. He certainly wasn’t going to say as much aloud since Malone had previously commented on a plant being ‘just a flower’ and earned them both an hour long lecture on the differences between various species of orchid. They ran out of coffee yesterday and he’s certain he won’t be able to stay awake if that happens.
Finally, he digs enough dirt out to pull up the entire plant and wrap its roots in canvas cloth before handing it off to Challenger.
“Ow!” Roxton looks back at him, worried. Was there a spider on it? “Damn. It’s just a thorn,” assures Challenger, showing him the spot of blood before sticking his finger back in his mouth. Roxton nods, still silent and a bit sleepy, and turns back to the pile of dirt to pick up his spade.
“You should really be more careful, Challenger,” Summerlee says idly, going over his list of plants. “It’s taken us nearly two days to find Silybum marianum”.
Challenger shoots the older scientist a look. “I’m overwhelmed by your concern for my health.”
“I’ll make a salve for your hand just as soon as we get the plants safely back home,” Summerlee says unapologetically.
As amusing as Roxton finds the two scientists’ bickering, it’s simply too early in the day for it. “Any more on your list, Professor?”
“Just one,” Summerlee replies, looking up from his small journal. “Yarrow, allheal.” Even Roxton’s heard of that one, but before he can comment, Malone calls out.
“I think I found it! Fern like leaves and bunches of little white flowers?” He sounds as awake as the scientists, and Roxton wonders how the three of them do it without coffee. Summerlee, he knows, doesn’t drink the stuff to start with, but that doesn’t explain the other two.
“Eureka.” The old professor crosses it off his list and Roxton allows the first smile of the day to cross his face. He’ll be glad to return to the Treehouse and get a proper brew. Oh, and seeing Veronica and Marguerite again would be nice.
A woman’s scream cuts through the morning air, long and pained. Roxton’s head snaps in the direction of the sound, lethargy completely forgotten. Malone takes off the next second.
“Rifle!” Challenger yells as he tosses Roxton’s to him from the balloon. The hunter catches it as the woman screams again, and the three of them follow her voice.
Roxton pulls up short soon after they enter the jungle. “Careful, Challenger.”
The red-haired man stops behind him, gripping his rifle anxiously. “What the hell are you doing?” he demands, but Roxton ignores him except to hold an arm out and keep him from going any further. He eyes the way in front of them, cautiously extending his own rifle and lightly tapping a taut vine. Two man length branches with thorns the size of his hands snap up and together like teeth in front of them.
“Deathtrap,” he says grimly. “This grove is probably full of them.”
Challenger’s eyes widen as the last scientist catches up with them. “Summerlee, don’t move!” He grabs the older man, stopping him. “This whole place is booby trapped.”
Roxton finishes looking the area over. With the direct path ruled out, a few detours are in order. “Follow me. Step exactly where I do,” he orders quietly before moving out.
“You best wait here,” Challenger tells Summerlee, patting him on the shoulder.
Roxton moves quickly and guides Challenger around another trap before they hear Malone shout, “Let her go!” Dammit, didn’t the lad know how to wait for reinforcements? He’s going to get himself killed yelling out like that. Roxton moves faster even as a strange voice calls out a warning.
“No! Stop!”
He can see Malone and a strange sort of alter with a pregnant woman on it now, and Roxton starts running as the young man staggers, one hand going to his neck.
Then he falls.
“Malone!” They’re almost there, but there’s a strange man coming up to Malone, dressed in a some sort of leaf-covered robe. Malone’s twitching and Roxton shoves the point of his rifle against the stranger’s chest. “Not another inch,” he warns the man coldly. In the corner of his eye, he can see Challenger checking Malone’s pulse.
“Oh my God. Malone…”
“How is he?” Roxton asks, still glaring at the impassionate man in front of him. Challenger moves his hands away from Malone and looks up at Roxton. The hunter risks looking at them both.
“He’s dead.”
((Dialogue from The Lost World))