Microsoft Word - THE COMPLETE ALIEN OMNIBUS, page 76
private passageway. ‘Must be heading over to channel A!’
At an intersection, William nearly ran over Gregor as the two
men joined up. ‘I heard it,’ Gregor muttered. ‘Channel E,
dammit.’
‘Did you say B?’
‘No, E.’
William frowned as he ran. ‘We’re supposed to stay—’
‘Move your fucking ass!’ In no mood to debate what their
theoretical relative positions ought to have been, Gregor
accelerated wordlessly. William trailed in his wake.
In a side corridor Jude linked up with Kevin, and they
glanced knowingly at the other. ‘You too?’
‘Yeah.’ Kevin was fighting for air.
‘Okay. Over to E. Everybody.’
Kevin made a face, trying to remember. ‘Where the fuck’s
E?’
His companion gestured impatiently. ‘This way. Get a
fuckin’ move-on.’
David was still alone, and he didn’t relish the continuing
solitude. According to plan, he should have linked up with
someone else by now. He did, however, find what remained of
Vincent. It slowed but did not halt him.
‘Kevin? Gregor? Morse? I found Vincent.’ There was no
response. He kept moving, unwilling to stop for anyone or
anything. ‘Let’s shut this fucker down.’ The section of tunnel
directly ahead was darker than the one he’d just vacated, but at
least it was empty.
In the main corridor Dillon glanced at Troy. ‘Help them.’
The other prisoner nodded and headed into the maze of
corridors, hefting his map.
Prisoner Eric stood nearby, his gaze shifting constantly from
Dillon to Ripley. He chewed his lower lip, then his fingernails.
She studied the monitor panel. It showed Gregor going one
way, Morse the other. Her expression twisted.
‘Where the fuck is he going? Why don’t they stick to the
plan?’
‘You’re immune,’ Dillon reminded her. ‘They’re not.’
‘Well, what the hell are they doin’?’
Dillon’s attention was focused on the dimly lit far end of the
corridor. ‘Improvising.’
She rested her hand on the main piston control, saw Eric
staring at her. He was sweating profusely.
David stumbled through the darkened corridor, holding his
flare aloft and trying to penetrate the blackness ahead.
‘Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. Here—’ He broke off. The alien was
clearly visible at the far end, pounding ineffectually on the
door through which Jude had recently vanished.
He cocked his arm as the alien turned. ‘Here, pussycat.
Playtime!’ He heaved the hissing flare. The alien was already
coming toward him before the flare struck the floor.
Turning, he raced at high speed back the way he’d come.
The distance to the next barrier was relatively short and he felt
confident he’d make it. Sure enough, he was through in plenty
of time. His hand came down hard on the close button. The
door slipped downward . . . and stopped.
His eyes widened and he made a soft mewling noise as he
stumbled backward, one faltering step at a time.
As he stared, the door continued to descend in halting jerks.
He quivered as the alien slammed full speed into the door.
Metal buckled but continued to descend in its uneven,
herky-jerky fashion.
An alien paw punched through the gap and made a grab at
David’s leg. Screaming, he leapt onto a ledge in the corridor
wall. The hand continued to flail around, hunting for him, as
the door jerked down, down. At the last instant the foreleg
withdrew.
There was silence in the corridor.
It took him a long moment to find his voice and when he did,
what emerged was little more than a terrified whimper.
‘Door 3, channel F. Shut . . .I hope.’
Morse didn’t hear him as he continued to stumble blindly
down his own corridor. ‘Kevin? Gregor? Where the fuck are you?
Where is everybody? K, L, M, all locked and secured.’ He
glanced at a plate set into the wall. ‘I’m back in A.’
In a side passageway Gregor was likewise counting panels.
‘Channel V secure. Channel P holding.’
Behind him William struggled to keep pace. ‘Did you say P
or D?’ he shouted. ‘For fuck’s sake—’
Gregor turned without stopping. ‘Shut the fuck up! Move!’
Unsure of his position, Kevin discovered that he’d doubled
back on himself. ‘Shit. I’m in R. That’s safe. That’s safe. Isn’t
it?’
Jude overheard, raised his voice so his companion could
hear. ‘You forgot, man. R leads back into F. I’m moving
through F right now. Gonna shut it down.’
Disoriented, Troy halted at an intersection. He’d moved too
fast, ignoring the map and trusting to memory. Now he found
himself appraising the multiple tunnels uncertainly.
‘Channel F? Where the fuck—There ain’t no fuckin’
Channel F.’
He moved forward, hesitated, and chose the corridor to his
immediate right, instead.
That corridor, however, was already occupied by another
frustrated inhabitant.
Dillon and Ripley heard the distant screams. As usual, the
screams didn’t last for very long.
‘Morse?’ Dillon called out. ‘Kevin, Gregor?’
Ripley strained to see past him. ‘What’s going on back there?’
The big man glanced tensely back at her. ‘All they have to do
is run down the damn corridors.’ He hefted his axe and started
forward. ‘Stay here.’
The side corridor from which they expected their visitor
remained deserted. No alien. No people. Only distant, echoing
voices, some distinctly panicky.
Behind him, Eric voiced his thoughts aloud. ‘Where in hell is
it?’ Dillon just glanced at him.
Sucking up his courage, David moved back to the door and
peered through the small window. The corridor beyond was
empty. He raised his voice.
‘I’ve lost him. Don’t know where the fucking thing is. Not
gonna open the door. I think it went up in the fucking air vent.’
He turned slowly to inspect the single air vent in the tunnel
above him.
He was right.
Ripley waited until the last of the echoes faded to silence.
Eric had been moving forward, his eyes harbingers of
imminent collapse. If someone didn’t do something he was
going to break and take off running. There was nowhere to
run to. She moved toward him, caught his gaze, trying to stare
him down, to transfer some of her own confidence into him.
Dillon had disappeared down the side corridor. It didn’t take
him long to find Troy’s remains. After a quick look around he
retreated back the way he’d come.
Morse and Jude had finally linked up. They ran along side
by side . . . until Jude slipped and went down hard. His fingers
fumbled at the warm, sticky mess which had tripped him up.
‘For fuck’s sake . . . yuck.’
When Jude lifted it toward the flare for a better look, Morse
recoiled in horror. Then he got a good look at what he’d
picked up, and they screamed in unison.
Ripley listened intently, momentarily forgetting Eric. The
screams were close now—immediate, not echoes. Suddenly the
prisoner whirled and rushed back toward the piston control.
She ran after him . . .
As the alien appeared, racing across the corridor.
Eric’s fingers started to convulse on the control and she
barely had time to grab his hand.
‘Wait! It’s not in position yet!’ With an effort of will she
managed to block him from releasing the piston.
That was all it took. Defeated mentally as well as physically,
he slumped back, exhausted and trembling.
Kevin moved slowly through the corridor. He was getting
close to the piston alcove now, as safe a place as any. He’d done
everything that had been asked of him. They couldn’t ask for
more, not now.
Something made him look up. The alien positioned in the
vent above didn’t bother to drop. Instead it reached down and
snatched him up as easily as if it had been fishing for a frog.
Blood splattered.
At the far end of the passageway Dillon appeared. Spotting
Kevin’s jerking legs he rushed forward and threw both arms
around the twitching knees. It was something the alien wasn’t
prepared for and the two men dropped.
Ripley saw Dillon drag the wounded prisoner into the main
corridor. With a glance at the useless Eric she started forward
to help.
Blood spurted from the injured man’s neck. Whipping off
her jacket, she wrapped it around the wound as tightly as she
could. The blood slowed, but not enough. Dillon held the man
close, murmuring.
‘No death, only—’
There was no time to finish the prayer. The alien emerged
from the side access. Ripley rose and started backing away.
‘Leave the body. Draw it in.’
Dillon nodded and joined her, the two of them retreating
toward the control alcove.
The alien watched. They were moving slowly, with nowhere
to retreat to. There was still life in the damaged figure on the
floor. The alien jumped forward to finish the job.
Spinning, Ripley made a slashing gesture in Eric’s direction.
Eric erupted from his hiding place and slammed his hand
down on the control.
The piston shot forward, sweeping up both Kevin’s body and
that of the alien, shunting them toward the gap which led to
the furnace. Heat and howling air filled the corridor.
But the alien had vanished.
Sweating, Ripley took a step forward. ‘Where the hell’s it
gone?’
‘Shit!’ Dillon tried to peer around the machinery. ‘It must be
behind the fucking piston.’
‘Behind it?’ She gaped at him.
‘Seal the doors,’ he bellowed. ‘We gotta get it back!’ They
exchanged a glance, then took off in opposite directions.
‘Jude, Morse!’ Dillon pounded down the corridor he’d
chosen, searching for survivors. Meanwhile Ripley went in
search of Eric and William. Found them, too, all mixed up
together and no longer worrying. About anything. She
continued on.
Morse was creeping now, no longer running. Hearing a
noise, he paused to check the side access way from which it had
come, exhaled at the sight of nothing. He began retracing his
steps, keeping his eyes forward.
Until he dumped into something soft and animate.
‘What the-!’
It was Jude. Equally startled, the other man whirled,
displaying the scissors he carried like a weapon. Simultane-
ously relieved and furious, Morse grabbed the twin blades and
angled them upward.
‘Not like this. Like this, moron.’ He whacked the other man
on the side of the head. Jude blinked, nodded, and started off
in the other direction.
Dillon was back in the main corridor, yelling. ‘Jude, Jude!’
The other man heard him, hesitated.
The alien was right behind him.
He ran like hell, toward Dillon, who urged him on.
‘Don’t look back. As fast you fucking can!’
Jude came on, trying, trying for his life. But he wasn’t Kevin,
or Gregor. The alien caught him. Blood exploded against the
door that Dillon desperately sent slamming shut.
In the next corridor Ripley heard, growled to herself. Time
was ticking away as the piston continued its inexorable and
currently useless slide forward.
Gregor screamed for help, but there was no one around to
hear him. He raced blindly down the passageway, ricocheting
off the corners like a pinball until he slammed into Morse,
running hard the other way. Nervous, then half laughing, they
picked themselves up, staring in relief at one another.
Until the alien flashed past and smashed into Gregor in
midlaugh, tearing him apart.
Blood and pulp showering his face and torso, Morse fought
to scramble away, screaming for mercy to something that
neither understood nor cared about his desperation. He could
only stare as the creature methodically eviscerated Gregor’s
corpse. Then he crawled frantically.
He bumped into something unyielding and his head
whipped around. Feet. His head tilted back. Ripley’s feet.
She threw the flare she was holding at the alien as it tried to
duck into an air vent. The burning magnesium alloy forced it
to drop Gregor’s ravaged body.
‘Come on, you bastard!’
As Morse looked on in fascination, the alien, instead of
rushing forward to decapitate the lieutenant, coiled up against
the far wall. She advanced, ignoring its cringing and spitting.
‘Come on. I got what you want. Follow me. I want to show
you something. Come on, damn you!’
The alien’s tail flicked out and lashed at her. Not hard
enough to kill; just enough to fend her off.
At that moment Dillon arrived in the doorway, staring. She
whirled on him. ‘Get back! Don’t get in the way!’
The alien resumed its attack posture, turning to face the
newcomer. Desperately Ripley inserted herself between it and
Dillon, who suddenly realized not only what was happening
but what she was trying to do.
Moving up behind, he grabbed her and held her tight.
The alien went berserk, but kept its distance as the two
humans retreated, Ripley tight in Dillon’s grasp.
It followed them into the main corridor, keeping the
distance between them constant, waiting. Dillon glanced
toward the waiting mould, called out.
‘In here, stupid!’
The alien hesitated, then leapt to the ceiling and scuttled
over the doorjamb.
‘Shut it!’ Ripley said frantically. ‘Now!’
Dillon didn’t need to be told. He activated the door in front
of her. It slammed tight, imprisoned them both in the main
corridor with the creature.
Morse appeared behind it, saw what was happening. ‘Get
out! Get the fuck out now!’
Ripley yelled back at him. ‘Close the door!’ The other man
hesitated. As he did so, the alien turned toward him. ‘Now!’
Morse jerked forward and hit the switch. The door rammed
down, sealing them off from his position. A moment later the
piston appeared, continuing on its cleansing passage and
obscuring them from view.
He turned and ran back the way he’d come.
Within the main corridor the piston crunched into the alien,
knocking it backward. Forgetting now about the two humans, it
turned and sought to squeeze a leg past the heavy barrier.
There was no room, no space at all. The piston continued to
force it toward the mould.
Dillon and Ripley were already there. End of the line.
Nowhere else to go.
Morse scrambled up the ladder which lead to the crane cab,
wondering if he remembered enough to activate it. He’d have
to. There was no time to consult manuals, and no one left to
ask.
The massive landing craft disdained the use of the mine’s
ill-maintained landing port. Instead it set down on the gravel
outside, the backwash of its maneuvering engines sending dirt
and rocks flying. Moments later heavily armed men and
women were rushing toward the facility’s main entrance.
From within the lock Aaron watched them disembark, a
broad smile on his face. They had smart guns and armour
piercers, thermoseeking rails and rapid-fire handguns. They
knew what they’d be up against and they’d come prepared. He
straightened his uniform as best as he could and prepared to
pop the lock.
‘I knew they’d make it.’ He raised his voice. ‘Hey,!; over here!
This way!’ He started to activate the lock mechanism.
He never got the chance. The door exploded inward, six
commandos and two medical officers rushing through even
before the dust had settled. All business, the commandos spread
out to cover the lock area. Aaron moved forward, thinking as he
did so the captain in their midst was a dead ringer for the dead
android that had been on the lieutenant’s lifeboat.
‘Right, sir,’ he announced as he stopped in front of the officer
and snapped off a crisp salute. ‘Warder Aaron, 137512.’
The captain ignored him. ‘Where is Lieutenant Ripley? Is she
still alive?’
A little miffed at the indifference but still eager to be of help,
Aaron replied quickly. ‘Right, sir. If she’s alive, she’s in the
