Shelley freezes where she is, staring.

She's dead.

The woman's dead, but she takes an automatic step forward, anyway, years of training to check for breathing, for a pulse, call an ambulance...

But there is no ambulance, and that woman is dead, she knows it. There's one sensible thing she could do here and after standing stock still for a time that feels impossibly long, she shakes herself into looking about for a comm unit.

There's one inside her room.