Alien 3 script
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Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 Next page INT. THE MALL Hicks warily crosses the Mall. SOUND of perpetual Muzak. He eyes the wreckage of the bar, but keeps moving. Into stuttering neon light from one of the shops. HISS and CRACKLE of bad wiring. He move toward the shop, gun ready. INT. SHOP Hicks enters, surveys the wreckage of display cases, scattered 21st century consumer toys. He finds five cocoons at the read of the shop. INT. THE MALL LONG on the shop. Beat. SOUND of five rounds from the pulse-rifle. With the last shot, the neon flicker dies. Muzak stops. Hicks emerges, continues across the Mall. Arrives at the elevator-like entrance to the mini-subway, punches in his destination ("OPS" lights up in red). Muffled SOUND of the breaking car; the door HISSES open -- on Spence, both hands white-knuckled on the loop of a hanger-strap, the car an abattoir, red with the blood of Transformation. Shredded clothing and rags of flesh. HICKS Spence... She screams. INT. OPS ROOM Rosetti and Jackson are hunched over the screens as Hicks enters with Spence over his shoulder, brushing past two nervous Marines at the door. Bishop is making calculations on a console in the b.g. Hicks eases Spence down into a chair. JACKSON Revised ETA fro the Kansas City's another thirteen hours... HICKS (yanking Rosetti around in his chair) Things don't look so shit hot out there right now, Rosetti. What about rigging the fusion package? ROSETTI (to Jackson; ignoring Hicks) Sound the general alert, routine lifeboat drill... HICKS A general fucking alert? Lifeboat drill? Who the hell you think's gonna be left to pick up? I say we do the fusion package now! JACKSON (wearily; without looking up from her screen) Hicks, you took out the scrubber, the main air- scrubber. Pretty soon there isn't going to be anything to breathe in here. We'd by okay for about five days, except you also started an electrical fire and we got no way to put it out. The crew's down to one-twenty-eight. HICKS (stunned) More than half...? JACKSON That's what I said. HICKS And you haven't rigged the place to blow? JACKSON (glances at Rosetti) No. ROSETTI (as if noticing him for the first time) You'll lead the group from this sector, Hicks. At the alert, they'll gather at blue assembly points. Proceed to the nearest lifeboat bay... BISHOP (approaching Rosetti with a single sheet of printout) Colonel, my analysis indicates that a minimum of one fifth of the one hundred and twenty- eight remaining crew are already incubating the -- ROSETTI (on the edge of hysteria) Lis ten to me, you motherless zombie! Those are people! Can't you understand that? And we're going to get them out! BISHOP Yes, Colonel, I... ROSETTI (to Hicks) You have your orders! HICKS I don't leave here until Jackson sets it to blow, Rosetti. Got that? Kansas City shows up, maybe there's nobody left for them to pick up. Then what? They'll send a boarding party in here! JACKSON I can't. The fusion package is under the scrubber, Hicks. You trashed the wiring, man. That's where the fire is. Those lines. I can't link through. I can't set it. BISHOP I'll go; I'll get it manually. HICKS I'll go with you. BISHOP No. Assist with the... (glances down at the figures on the sheet of printout) The evacuation. JACKSON (to Rosetti) You just want to get your own ass out of here, don't you? They couldn't have done this without you approval, could they? SPENCE Hick! As one of the Marine guards stumbles forward, dropping his weapon, hands upraised in claws of agony -- MARINE Please, I... He trips, fall across Jackson's console and the barrel of Hick's gun -- as half a dozen New Model Chest-bursters erupt simultaneously from his torso in a spray of blood. Hicks bellow, jumps back, grabbing Spence. The chest bursters tumble from the body of the dead Marine, scuttle into the shadows; one leaves a trail of small bloody prints across Jackson's keyboard. HICKS Out! Out of here! INT. CORRIDOR Hicks, Spence, Bishop, Rosetti, Jackson, and the remaining Marine guard hustle along, Hicks and Bishop bringing up the rear. Rosetti carries the dead Marine's pulse-rifle. Bishop touches Hick's shoulder as they reach the intersection. BISHOP I'll try to give you an hour. Overload at twenty-two hundred. HICKS (quietly; doesn't want the others to hear) Blow it. That's what matters. EXTREME CLOSEUP on Hick's watch as her set the alarm for 2200 hours. BISHOP Yes. Bishop splits off, down another corridor, running. INT. LIFEBOAT ASSEMBLY POINT Another intersection of corridors. A pathetic remnant of Anchorpoint's crew cluste r beneath a flashing blue light. A dozen people, including HALLIDAY, a woman Spence's age; TATSUMI (male Japanese); a LAB TECH (male). ROSETTI Where are the others? There should be thirty |
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