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"Come on," Lily called desperately. "Sirs, we have to keep moving, Joe's still bleeding."
Walters turned his head sluggishly to stare at her. He pretended to pat his leg and grinned. "Plenty more where that came from," he told her, a hint of a slur creeping into his words.
Malcolm turned to face her, shoving all the information he'd just received into a tiny box at the back of his mind, he could deal with it later, for now he figured it was best to ignore it. He tugged at Trip's arm and all four of them stumbled into the next room.
"Looks like we found their sickbay," Malcolm whispered to himself.
"Or their morgue," Trip muttered, overhearing him.
There were bodies everywhere, uniforms stained with dried blood, vomit and sweat adorning those of the Doctors and Nurses who had clearly been tending to their patients when they were shot. It was a grim sight.
Trip and Malcolm began rifling through the compartments on the right hand wall, studiously ignoring the dead and attempting to keep the new information of before locked away deep in their minds.
"There's nothing here!" Trip exploded, slamming one shut. "They must've used all the bandages, that's even if they use them at all!"
Lily leaned Walters up against one of the walls and moved over to some cupboards set into the far wall. "I'll check in here." She pulled the nearest door open, somewhat surprised at how heavy it was. She peered into its gloomy depths, pulling a face at the atrocious smell, it took a second for her eyes to adjust and when they did she found a pair of eyes staring right back at her.
The blue eyes, the sharp facial structure, the thin lips, the dark brown hair, the familiar facial features she knew so well barely recognisable under surgical cuts. He resembled Frankenstein's monster and Lily wanted to slam the door shut, wanted to forget what she'd seen, but her traitorous hand refused to move and her gaze couldn't be averted.
Behind her she could still hear Trip and Malcolm rifling through the compartments, and slowly she closed the door, knowing that those dead, accusing eyes, never left her face.
"Anything?" Malcolm asked her.
"No bandages in there," Lily replied.
Malcolm nodded and continued his search. Lily found herself staring at him, mentally imagining the surgical scars appearing on his face and down his body. Quickly she averted her gaze and moved back over to Walters, the wall on the right slid open to reveal a long corridor.
"There's nothing here, we obviously found what we were supposed to," said Lily quickly.
Trip sighed and scrubbed at his face with his hand. "We didn't find anything…unless it was something you saw in the cupboard."
"Just another dead body," Lily replied before becoming very interested in Walters injury. "The bleedings slowed a little…it's hard to tell really."
"I agree with Lily, there's nothing here," Malcolm said slamming the last compartment shut.
Trip turned to Walters. "Joe, you holding up ok?"
Walters nodded tiredly. "Could run a marathon, Cap'n."
"Let's go then," said Trip, giving Walters shoulder a quick squeeze before moving on.
Lily helped Walters up and followed on behind Malcolm. Walters sighed.
"Which one did you find?" He muttered quietly.
Lily's head snapped up and she froze. "How…?"
"Bad poker face," Walters told her.
Lily started moving again, with Walters hobbling alongside her. "It was…Reed." The words were spoken so softly that Walters barely heard them. He gave her a weak pat of comfort.
Malcolm glanced back at the two slow moving officers worriedly before turning his attention back to the corridor. It was long and wide with doors on each side, all seemed to be fused shut, except one. The last room on the corridor had its door open, and he could hear voices from within.
He motioned for the others to remain where they were as he moved towards the door. Trip ignored him and went with him.
Malcolm rounded the door and froze. "Oh my God."
Trip glanced in, mentally preparing himself.
There was a scream of anguish from inside. "No! You can't see! You must leave! You have to leave!"
The two officers watched dumbstruck as the hysterical source of the scream tried to unsuccessfully block their view.
"SHUT UP!" One of the men lying strapped to one of the tables screamed. "Shut up, you banshee! They've seen! They know! It's over, Isobel! They've found us!"
Isobel span round sobbing and struck the man sharply round the face. "It can't be!" she sobbed shaking him roughly. "They'll kill my family! I have to protect them! It can't be over!"
"Get off him!" Trip yelled in perfect sync with the other bed's occupant.
Malcolm tried to pull her off the man but she struck him across the face before collapsing to the floor. Malcolm staggered backwards and Trip reached to steady his friend.
"So," said the smaller man, wincing slightly. "You must be the originals, welcome to hell on Earth, home of hysterical maniacs and serious issues with reality."
"What have they done to you…us…?" Trip breathed his eyes widening dramatically as he took in the physical appearance of their clones. Naked, pale, painfully thin and completely hairless. The hand of his clone twitched in greeting.
"Ahh," the smaller man trailed off. "The question you should really be asking is -"
"Do we really want to know?" Malcolm finished for him.
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