By mutual agreement they figured they had reached the crux of the matter with Mulder. They had reached the point where they were dealing with the renegade Asgards and the spectre of death. Now if they could just stop for a breather, drink a cup of hot caffeine laden drink of their choice, and discuss the thing rationally then they were sure a solution could be found.
Unfortunately all they could do in the immediate aftermath of the revelation of which entity they were dealing with in this dreamscape, was to run pell mall along the caverns, like headless chickens. They even lacked the breath to discuss among themselves what steps they should be taking in the matter (other than long, frequent ones).
"I'LL BE THE DEATH OF YOU YET!" called a tomb like voice from behind them. It was accompanied by the thunderous peal of hoof beats.
They ran along the cavern. Mackenzie was pushing Mulder's gurney, with a hand placed on either side of his feet. The squeak from the wheels had become a falsetto counterpoint to the bass thudding of her heart and the pounding of her pulse in her ears.
"YOU LOOK SCARED HALF TO DEATH, LET'S FINISH THE JOB," called same voice. The staccato beat of the horse's hooves seemed to be stalking rather than galloping as though the rider had all the time in the world and need not hurry.
Mackenzie drew breath through a burning throat. She followed the careening passage made by Daniel Jackson and the glow he carried in his hand. Who the hell conceived of this game where I get to dress like this, she bitched. The shorts were fine; it was the top that was the problem. Any sort of brassier would have been a good idea, but no, she had to wear this thing and she was bouncing around painfully.
About six feet ahead of her, Mulder's face leered back at her evilly. He had a great view of the action through the gap between his feet, and he wasn't changing his position for the world.
Mackenzie caught the expression on his face. "I should have known," she muttered breathlessly and then failed to make the next corner. The cavern went left and the gurney had the directional amenability of a supermarket trolley. Under threat from rogue vandals, it had developed a genuine law and order through punishment leaning and really wanted to turn right at this point.
In the gurney's resulting dispute on policy direction with Sarah Mackenzie, it crashed into the wall, partially dislodging Mulder from his stupor.
"Heh," said Mackenzie evilly. "Serves you right, you pervert."
Jack O'Neill took the time to help her right the trolley, pausing in his continual delivery of streamline lead pellets along the cavern, aiming in the general direction of the on-rushing hoard of Asgard minions.
For their part the Asgard were 'leap-frogging' one another, from one rocky hiding place to another, and scampering effectively along behind SG-1++'s chaotic flight through the cavern. O'Neill hadn't hit one yet, but at least he was keeping them cautious.
Dana Scully took over the delivery-of-lead-pellets role while O'Neill was busy, pumping a few werewolf killers into the stonemasonry behind them.
"Come on, we have to keep moving, or they'll catch up," wheezed Carter.
"It's this damn gurney that's slowing us down," panted Mackenzie.
"I should be pushing that," offered Teal'c.
Mackenzie and Carter both looked at him quizzically.
"You aren't a slave any more, Teal'c," Carter explained. "Just because you have been dressed as one doesn't mean that…"
"I am quite considerably stronger than either of you," he explained.
"Just let him push the damn thing and get moving," instructed O'Neill.
"You tell 'em buddy," shouted Mulder.
"I could have sworn that was Mulder's voice," said Scully, "just really faint."
They gathered themselves together and ran on trailing behind the fleeing Daniel Jackson, who was lighting the way. The balance of SG-1++ followed along behind. Teal'c and the contrary gurney came next in line, squeaking ominously. Scully and Carter brought up the next rank. At the very back of their panicked cavalcade, came Jack O'Neill using up his store of ammunition at a furious rate, and Sarah Mackenzie doing her best Angelina Jolie impersonation, without quite the right lip or attitude.
Shots rang out.
The sound of hooves followed them.
"DEATH TO THE INTERLOPERS, OH, SILLY, THAT'S ME," followed by a ringing hollow echo of maniacal laughter.
Jackson skidded to a halt. The rest of SG-1++ almost skidded into him.
"It's a sign," he said.
"Save the religious revelations until later," Carter cut him off.
"No, no, no, it says 'this way home'," Jackson said. "Don't you see, everything that I read out loud; happens. If we had taken the hall that said 'shortcut home' right back at the beginning, we would have been spared all of this."
"Yeah and if Neo had taken the other pill," Scully said, "the Matrix would have been really short movie."
"No," Jackson explained patiently. "Don't you get it? This way home, means this way home. We just follow the sign and we're out of here."
"OK, got that." O'Neill interjected. He broke off his attempts to ventilate every last Asgard in Mulder's dreamscape long enough to ask; "Which way does it point Daniel?"
O'Neill patted at his ammunition belts and realised that his inexhaustible supply of ammunition; wasn't. He could resort to throwing the guns at them; that might keep them busy for a while.
"Straight up," Jackson said.
"Wonderful," muttered Scully. She stepped around O'Neill and took up the vanguard with Mackenzie. The pair of them were crouched either side of the cavern, loosing off shots in counterpoint percussion harmony.
"So what do we do?" Carter asked.
"Give me a leg up," Jackson suggested. "I'll see what's up there."
The gun in Mackenzie's left hand stopped going 'crack,' 'crack' and went 'click,' 'click' instead.
It had never needed ammunition before she cursed. Why did it decide to run out now? She tossed it aside and continued firing with the other one. Across the hallway, Scully's gun made a similar change in percussive accompaniment.
Behind them, O'Neill held his hands cupped for Jackson's foot. O'Neill boosted Jackson up. His head disappeared from view, out of the range of the feeble glow from the light source on the floor.
Scully popped the clip from her gun and placed the spent one in her mouth while she rooted around in the pockets of her jacket for the spare. It came free from the pocket and she slammed it home. She looked across at Mackenzie and saw her staring behind her at the place where Jackson and O'Neill were testing Jackson's theory of Mulder's Dreamscape architecture.
Death rounded the bend in the cavern, riding atop the biggest horse Scully had ever seen. It must have been nineteen hands of white stallion, with the wicked-est mane and the longest snow-white tail.
"If we don't get a move on we'll all be dead meat," Scully called over her shoulder.
Death seemed to have become bored with the bad puns and settled for grinning maniacally.
Mackenzie watched what happened to Jackson behind her, blinked and looked again. That wasn't what happened at all, she decided. His head just disappeared entirely, and she knew that couldn't really happen.
In the distance Death seemed to reach a decision. He raised his scythe and flicked the reins.
The sound of thundering sound of rushing hooves was closing in. A quarter of the apocalypse was nigh. They were running out of time. In ten quick spasms of her index finger Scully emptied her second clip, to no avail.
Mackenzie's right hand gun went click, click. She hadn't even realised that she was still firing the thing until it stopped working.
She reached a decision. "Shove Mulder through first," she shouted to O'Neill. "This is all in his head. If he's gone then maybe all of this will all vanish with him."
"It's worth a try," agreed O'Neill. Between them, Teal'c and O'Neill stood Mulder upright and pushed him up to the black void.
Death swooped, waving his scythe over his head. He swung the blade at Scully.
"No!" screamed Mulder.
His head disappeared.