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.

205

205

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 206

Alan Dean Foster

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.