Alien: Out the Shadows

Ripley covered him up. He’d been torn in half just below his ribcage, and his legs and lower body had dropped to the elevator floor. She couldn’t keep her eyes off the broken ankle. Baxter’s foot lay at an odd angle, and the heavy padding they’d used to try and splint the break had come unraveled. He’d struggled so long on that, and for so far, because he wanted to survive.

Of course he did.

They all wanted to survive, and they’d do anything to do so. Baxter had run and walked on a broken ankle, going through untold pain. And now…

She only looked briefly before dropping her suit jacket across the ruined, open part of him. Things that should never be outside a body were splashed across the elevator floor, and her jacket covered most of them.

She was cold, her tattered thermal vest doing little to hold in her body heat. But she’d rather be cold than stare at what was left of that poor man. Her stomach rolled a little, more at the stench of vomit than what she had seen.

Am I just stronger? she thought. Have I just seen too much? Is it that I expect the worst, so it doesn’t worry me? She wasn’t sure.

Maybe it was because she had something more on her mind.

She turned her back on Baxter, picked up his dropped plasma torch, and checked out Sneddon. The science officer seemed to be in reasonable shape, and there was even color in her cheeks again. She was quiet, leaning against the elevator wall and staring into some distance only she could see.

“How do you feel?” Ripley asked.

“Yeah,” Sneddon said. “Yeah, good. Weird dreams. But I’m okay.”

“You know what happened to you.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, I know.”

Ripley nodded, looked around. The others were staring at her. I’m the stranger here, she thought. Her gaze rested on Hoop, and she couldn’t quite read him. They were all tired, shocked from Baxter’s gruesome demise. She couldn’t say anything yet. She just couldn’t.

“She’ll be fine,” Hoop said. “We have a med-pod on the Marion that can—”

“It’s okay,” Ripley said, turning away. She breathed hard. The sensation of movement from the elevator had been startling—still was—probably made worse by the walls distorted by the alien attack. She felt suddenly sick. But she swallowed, bit her lip, and willed it back down.

Sneddon couldn’t reach the Marion alive. Ripley knew that, yet she was uncertain how far she would go to prevent it. Ash was up there, ready and waiting to receive the science officer into his control. It didn’t matter that she was a human being. She was impregnated now, and she carried what Ash had been seeking for thirty-seven years.

Does he already know? She had to assume that was a yes.

Would he go to any lengths to protect and preserve Sneddon, and what she carried? Again, yes. She knew that, had witnessed Ash’s determination before.

Sneddon couldn’t be taken to the Marion. And Ripley could not kill another person. The problem circled, deep and heavy, and she closed her eyes, hoping that a solution would come.

Each level they passed was marked by a soft chime from the elevator’s control panel, and the voice of someone from far away and long ago reciting, “Seven… Six… Five.” The cage decelerated then, and Ripley experienced the strange sensation of being stretched, head and shoulders growing suddenly light. It made it easier to breathe, but did nothing to level her queasiness.

She did her best not to puke. Her stomach wound throbbed deep and cold, and she thought if she heaved the act might pop the staples holding her together. Her shoulder and arm were stiff, and she was sure she could feel the penetrating metal of the clasps there every time she moved. She thought of asking Kasyanov for another shot of anaesthetic or painkiller. But she was already woozy enough. If a flash of pain now and then was what she had to endure to stay awake, so be it. She needed all her wits about her. They all did.

The elevator slowed to a halt, and a different chime sounded from the control panel. Outside of the cage, all was blackness.

“Level 4,” Lachance said. “Lingerie, footwear, monsters, and beasties.”

“This level was mined out two years ago,” Hoop said. “Lots of deep tunnels, a complex network. One of the longest in the mine snakes away from here for over three miles.”

“Sounds lovely,” Ripley said. “So the fuel cells are here?”

“Yeah, we use this level for storage now. Lachance?”

“Spare fuel cells shouldn’t be that far away. We’ll need to find a powered trolley to carry one.”

“You okay?” Kasyanov asked, and it took Ripley a few seconds to realize the doctor was talking to her.

She nodded. Realized they were all looking at her.

“You were… mumbling to yourself,” Hoop said.

“I’m good,” Ripley insisted, smiling. But she hadn’t realized she was saying a word.