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“Damn signal,” Jack muttered, holding his phone to the air, as if that would make much of a difference. “I’m not getting anything out here. One of the few times you don’t wreck my phone and I can’t even get it workin’ right. Figures as much, huh?”
Crunchy leaves crumbled underfoot as the two trekked through the woods, maneuvering overgrown tree roots and foliage.
“Yeah,” Mac agreed, “figures.” Mac checked his phone. “Mine’s the same. No bars.”
“You try holding it up?” Jack asked, waving his phone in the air. “If you hold it up it might-- you might get something.”
“Doubtful,” Mac said, smirking at Jack's antics. "Without a sat phone, we're not likely to get any kind of signal out here. Maybe if we got to higher ground, but it would have to be something higher than just the length of your arm."
“All right, well, hop up on my shoulders here, then.” Jack patted his shoulder with his free hand, keeping one holding the phone up.
Mac gave the older man an unimpressed look. “Jack.”
“It’s only weird if you make it weird, dude.”
“I’m not making it weird, that’s not why I-- you do realize that the chance of that actually working is so low, right? Like, impossibly low.”
Trying to hide a smile, Jack turned to Mac. “Not if I stand on my tiptoes, it’s not.”
“The problem with the signal isn’t a matter of how high up you can hold the phone, it’s more about the radio waves from the nearest cell tower getting obstructed and absorbed by the trees.
The idea behind getting to an increased elevation isn’t about being higher up, it’s about getting in the line of sight of a cell tower, so to speak.”
Jack spectacularly failed at hiding his growing amusement.
“Aaaaand you already know that, don’t you? You’re just doing this to mess with me,” Mac said.
“Ground slopes this way,” Jack pointed out, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Headin’ east seems to be our best bet to get to higher ground.”
“You not answering me is an answer all by itself.” The two began to walk, moving east.
“Thataway looks to be leading out to a bluff, could get a clearer signal there, I think. Otherwise, if that don’t work, it keeps sloping up the other way there.”
Mac rolled his eyes with a smile. "Well, we better get moving before those guys catch up to us," he said. He would rather not be around for their bad guy of the week to make getting a signal and a message off to Phoenix that much harder.
They picked up the pace, not knowing how far behind them their bad guys were. Far enough behind that Mac and Jack couldn't see or hear them anymore, but it was best not to stick around in one place too long and make themselves easy to track.
The conversation between them as they walked was light and arbitrary, banter flying easily and a healthy bit of complaining edged in there as well. By the time they got to the bluff, some of the trees had thinned out.
They both checked their phones.
"You getting anything?" Jack asked, huffing as his phone still stubbornly picked up nothing.
"No," Mac answered, "nothing. Looks like we're going to have to keep heading to higher ground."
"Yay, more walking," Jack deadpanned, earning a chuckle from Mac.
Neither one of them was much looking forward to wandering through the woods until they found somewhere that would allow for some kind of cellular signal, but even a crappy, staticy one would do.
They trekked on. Walking, they took care to avoid jutting roots and partially camouflage rocks that threatened to trip them. And they continued to move until the terrain went from a less obvious slope to one that looked flat to the naked eye.
"This about as 'high ground' as we're gonna get, it looks," Jack said, whipping out his phone again, scowling at it, and tucking it back into his pocket. "What now?"
Mac sighed as his own phone still had no signal. "Now..." Mac began as he thought. He looked around for anything that might boost his signal, but a whole lot of plant life wasn't exactly useful in amplifying the signal of an electronic device.
It wasn't just trees; there was the faint trickle of what might have been a brook once long ago but was now mostly dried up, reduced to a sad flowing puddle snaking through the trees, barely wide enough to be considered a body of water at all.
It would likely fill back in if the accompanying swallet hole was anything to go by. It didn't go straight down like a typical sinkhole, more diagonally, and big enough to fit a couple of large animals within. Mac could only assume it was the cause of erosion, the natural progression of the brook's drying and filling, and time. Maybe a swallet cave was more accurate, but Mac decided not to get caught up in that.
It wasn’t of any use to him, unless getting in a dark hole would make his cell signal better.
Mac could make a receiver out of any one of the trees around. They were, from an electrical standpoint, not that different from radio towers, conducting electricity through the water inside of them. But even that would have taken some metal parts that he just didn't have access to. Mac eyed the tree again.
"I guess I'm going to have to climb up there and get us a better signal the terrifying way," Mac conceded.
"Nah," Jack said, "you don't have to do that, I can."
"And who's going to stay down here and keep watch in case those guys find us?"
"You could," Jack said, weighing the options in his head. He really would feel more comfortable on the ground where he could protect Mac in case the bad guys found them. "But-- but maybe it's better if I stay down here, I've got the gun, after all."
Mac held out his hand for Jack's phone. "I won't be long," he promised.
"I know you're just usin' it to send a text to Matty, but it still feels wrong to give you this," Jack said. He handed his phone over and took out his gun, ready, just in case.
Mac put it in his pocket. "Yeah, yeah. You'll get it back in one piece, old man. Don't worry."
"Yeah, all right. Get up there before I shoot you."
Mac laughed but did as he was told anyways. He jumped up to the lowest hanging branch and used the momentum to hoist himself up, swinging his leg up and over the branch.
"Eight out of ten," Jack commented. "Cute, but kinda flashy."
"Shut up," Mac returned with no real heat. He used the trunk to keep himself steady as he stood and grabbed for the next branch. Making sure to put a little pressure on the branches before his full weight, Mac climbed up the tree at a careful, safe pace.
He had a scare when one of the branches broke in his hand and went falling back to the ground. Mac watched it fall and had to take a few deep breaths, noticing for the first time just how high up he'd gotten.
"Hey, watch it," Jack called up when the branch finally hit the ground. "You be careful up there."
"I am," Mac called back. He decided to ignore the way his voice cracked on the second word. He looked back up-- if he was focused on getting up there, he wouldn't have to think about how high up he was getting.
Mac made it up another few branches before deciding that was good enough. He settled himself on a big, thick branch and pulled out his phone, frustrated to find nothing there. He pulled out Jack's and nearly cheered when he found it had one bar.
Mac pulled up Matty's contact and sent off a text, letting her know what had happened and their current approximate location. Mac watched the thing load and load and load but it refused to send with such poor service.
"Come on," Mac said, trying again to send the text after the error message popped up.
Waiting up there for the message to go through, Mac took the opportunity to survey their surroundings. He couldn't see any kind of man-made structures other than the one they had just recently fled. Obviously, they weren't going back in that direction.
Other than that, it was trees. Dense forest and nowhere clear enough to land a chopper. They would have to walk to wherever their exfil would be. Mac checked the phone again with a groan. The message was almost through, but he was not looking forward to all that walking.
From up in the tree, if Mac looked closely, he could see their bad guys, moving through the forest. They were still a little ways away, but close enough to be worried about. They would catch up if Mac and Jack stayed there for too much longer.
Mac checked the phone again and sighed with relief when it seemed the message had gone through.
Quickly, Mac stuffed the thing in his pocket and began his descent back down the tree.
"Jack," Mac hissed, loud enough for Jack to hear but not loud enough to shout and tip the bad guys off to where exactly they were.
"You got it?" Jack hollered.
Mac shushed him loudly. "Jack I could see the guys after us-- they're not that far behind--"
On his next word, Mac's foot slipped. He stifled a surprised yelp as he fought to regain his footing, but he overcompensated and missed the next branch entirely. Reaching out for any branch, Mac caught one, but it snapped with the sudden force of his weight.
It only succeeded in sending him tumbling, off-balanced and winded from surprise. Branches smacked him the whole way down, taking the leaves with him; he cracked his head particularly hard against one branch.
And just as suddenly as he had been weightlessly falling, he came to a stop with a great pain in his leg and an aborted shout. Things were fuzzy for several moments, greyed out and quiet, but Mac was pretty sure he didn't pass out. Not fully, at least.
Dazed, Mac stared up at where he had fallen from as the disturbed leaves fluttered down after him. 'Pretty,' Mac thought absently.
"Mac! Mac, kid, are you okay?" Jack's voice came. There were worried hands on them, and after Mac finally registered them, he pushed them away.
"I'm--" he breathed, still winded, "yeah. I'm okay, I think."
Jack let out a coarse laugh. "Think again, dude."
Mac took another breath, feeling over his ribs and not feeling anything buckle or shift weirdly. Probably just bruised. Mac was more than aware of the throbbing at the back of his head. But that wasn't where Jack's eyes were glued.
Pushing himself up a little on his elbow, Mac looked down to where Jack stared. His leg. Mac fell back with a loud groan. It was as if looking at it had been the thing to set off the pain full-force, lancing up his leg. Mac grunted as wave after wave of agony washed up through his leg.
"Yeah, that seems like a more appropriate reaction," Jack said, but his heart wasn't in the joke.
“I think-- I think it’s broken.”
“I coulda told you that.”
Mac's breaths came in short, rapid succession as he tried not to focus on the pain. "Jack," he ground out. "Those guys aren't far. They'll-- they're gonna find us." He pressed his eyes closed, exhausted from the mere act of talking. Fingers patted at his face and he opened his eyes.
"Hey, no sleeping on the job, Mac, c'mon. How far out were these guys, do you know?"
"Couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes behind us, maybe?" Mac said between breaths.
"Gonna take a look at this," Jack warned before rolling up Mac's pant leg. Mac groaned when the motion moved his leg slightly, but let Jack do what he needed. "I can't imagine you're gonna be walkin' on this anytime soon, hoss," Jack said apologetically.
"Figured as much." Mac propped himself up again to get a better look at his leg. He regretted that decision as soon as he caught sight of the swollen purples and blues there.
“Stop it, keep still,” Jack said, pushing Mac down. “Don’t think with this leg of yours I forgot about that knock to your head. ‘Cause I didn’t.”
Mac elected to ignore that second bit. "Gonna need to splint it," he said. "And make up a crutch so that we're not sitting ducks here."
"Splint? Yes. Crutch? No," Jack said. "I don't know what part of 'not walking' wasn't clear to you, but walking on this thing is only gonna make it worse."
"I'm pretty sure getting caught by those guys would make it worse too," Mac remarked. "Like it or not, we can’t just sit here forever"
Jack didn't like it, but he wasn't sure of another option just yet. "Let's just get it splinted first and we'll figure out the rest afterward," Jack said.
"You mean let's splint it first and then we'll just do it your way after?"
"Now, I didn't say that." Jack stood, looking for branches both long enough and sturdy enough to make a reliable splint with.
"Might as well have."
Jack found a couple that he deemed good enough and brought them back to Mac. "You're just cranky 'cause you're hurting."
"It's not that bad," Mac said immediately.
"Uh-huh." Jack lined up the branches in the best position to keep Mac's leg straightened out and still enough not to do more damage. Jack looked around him for something to tie the branches in place with.
"Your belt," Mac suggested, already undoing his own.
“Knew I kept you around for something,” Jack teased as he pulled off his belt. He accepted Mac's and secured the improvised splint the best he could. Mac bit back on a noise when Jack jostled his leg, clearly in pain. It brought a feeling of guilt to Jack, even if it was a necessary hurt.
Eventually, Jack had it secured; the splint wasn't perfect, but it would do.
"Okay," Jack started. But before he could say anything else, the two heard the faint rustle of disturbed plant life. It was still at a distance, but the bad guys had to be getting close if Mac and Jack could hear them. "Craaaap. Okay, rapid-fire triage, here we go."
Jack cut for time by assessing the numerous little scrapes and cuts while he told Mac to make sure he could still move his toes. And he saved time again when he checked all of Mac's ribs over at the same time he asked concussion questions. So Mac did as he was instructed, relieved to have mostly normal range of motion of his toes even if it hurt like hell; he hissed out his cognition answers as Jack pressed on tender bruises.
The rustling grew louder.
"That's gonna have to do for now," Jack decided.
Mac nodded. "Help me up," he said, moving slowly to sit himself up. Just the small movement had him winded and sweating with the exertion.
"Dude, no. Running and keeping them off our tails isn't an option right now. There's no way we'll be fast enough," Jack said. He checked the number of rounds he had left in his mag. "Shootin' our way out ain't looking so good either."
Mac hated to admit it, but Jack was right. He wasn't going to be able to keep up with Jack, and he would slow the other man down when Jack inevitably stopped to help him.
"Then you've got to go," Mac said. "I'll keep my phone on as long as I can. That way, when you rendezvous with exfil, you can have Riley--"
"No. No way in hell am I leaving you here."
"We really don't have any other options," Mac said.
"Well, then you better make another option right now, because that's a non-starter right there."
Mac glanced at their surroundings again, wishing he could just lay back down and not have to worry about keeping himself and Jack safe. Mac knew that if it came down to it, Jack would shoot and fight and protect for as long as he could. But it wouldn't be pretty for either party.
That was when Mac noticed the swallet hole again.
"There," Mac pointed. "Maybe we can--" Mac grunted as another wave of pain from his leg cut him off.
Jack put a comforting hand on Mac's shoulder as he rode it out. "Hide out, bunker down, I got it," Jack said.
The noise from before faded in more clearly, from vague rustling to distinct footsteps and distant chatter. If they were going to hide, they had to do it quickly.
They both realized that fact at about the same time and shared a look. Getting Mac to and in the swallet hole was not going to be a quick affair, not without a lot of pain.
"All right, time's up, we gotta do this fast," Jack said. "I'm so sorry about this, Mac."
Before Mac could even ask what Jack was sorry for, the older man grasped Mac under the armpits and dragged.
Mac sucked in a startled breath and a hand clamped over his mouth just before he could let out the scream the sudden movement caused.
He still screamed; it was muffled by Jack's hand. Jack pressed more firmly as Mac made involuntary noises-- whimpers and groans all muffled by Jack's hand trying to keep him quiet.
His leg jostled over little branches and twigs and rocks. He threw his head back and it smacked against Jack's chest. His head throbbed. Mac was moved over leaves and dirt and over a small splash of water that didn't get him very wet at all.
It was an eternity before Jack finally stopped moving him. It was pretty dark with how deep they had gotten into the hole. Mac could vaguely register the wetness on his cheeks and Jack's voice, near-inaudibly shushing him.
"Mac, quiet. I'm sorry, I know it hurts, but I need you to be quiet." Jack kept a hand firmly pressed over Mac's mouth and the other running gentle fingers through Mac's hair.
The sound of footsteps growing closer served as an incentive for Mac to clamp down on the next agonized groan. He focused on breathing; in and out, a little too quickly, but in and out all the same.
They waited, still and not entirely silent, but apparently quiet enough not to be heard (or just miserable-sounding enough that the men mistook Mac's muffled noises for a wounded animal). The footsteps continued on, taking the chatter with them.
They two didn't dare move until well after they were sure the men had gone. Jack tentatively removed his hand from over Mac's mouth.
"You okay?" He whispered.
Mac swallowed, nodding shakily. He didn't try and vocalize that lie, Jack probably already saw right through him, so there was no point.
"We're just gonna stay right here," Jack said, as if reading Mac's mind. "No more moving. When Matty doesn't get a response from us, she’ll send a team out here and they’ll get us to exfil, okay? No more moving."
Mac nodded again. "That-- that sounds good," he said, voice quiet.
"Yeah," Jack agreed. "Yeah, sounds good to me too."