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 people here... HALLIDAY (dazed and confused) I can't find Tom. What is it? What's going on? He was just here. I mean there. But then... JACKSON Forget it, he's probably already on the boat. You know him, right? C'mon, we're getting out of here ourselves... Hicks pulls a service automatic from his vest and slips it to Jackson. HICKS (under his breath) Keep an eye on everybody, okay, Ops? JACKSON (to the others) Okay! You all know the Goddamn d rill! Done it often enough, right? We're taking A-52 to Blue Concourse. We stick together. We'll meet up with two others groups at Bay Five and proceed to board... TATSUMI What is happening, please? JACKSON What's happening is we're getting on the boats! Move! INT. THE MALL Dense haze of smoke from burning insulation; half the lights are out. A body floats face down in the pool at the foot of the waterfall; the pool is overflowing, splashing on polished concrete. Bishop emerges from a doorway and hurries along toward the freight elevator. He freezes. Hears something else. Moves quietly in the direction of the SOUND. The bar. He peers into the wreckage. Four Aliens are at work, cocooning their prey. Cocooned bodies -- CLOSE on the face of Shuman -- have been glued to the big screen, where silent images of the soccer game repeat endlessly. Bishop stares, then turns -- looks up. A Queen. The thing towers above him in the Mall, utterly still. Beat. He takes a step backward. Another. The Queen's head sways. Another step. He bolts for the elevator. The Queen screams her rage, scrambles after him like a famished mantis. He's reached the elevator -- stabs desperately at the controls -- as the doors open and he's through, punching more buttons -- as the Queen strikes, her first blow buckling the steel doors. INT. FREIGHT ELEVATOR Her huge stinger lashes in through the gap, whipping and slicing, Bishop braced up straight in a corner, hand still on the controls. The elevator GROANS, SHUDDERS, begins to descend, then jams in the shaft. The stinger whips back out. SOUND of rending metal as the Queen continues her attack. INT. A CORRIDOR AT BULKHEAD HATCH Jackson ducks through first, still wearing her Ops cap. Rosetti next, then Spence, helping Halliday; the others follow, Hicks bringing up the rear. Hicks pauses, look s back through the hatch. Hears a distant CRASH, an inhuman cry. Takes a small bat of plastic explosive from his vest and squashes it against the edge of the bulkhead. Pulls a grenade from his harness, twists its neck in the delay-detonate combination, sticks in into the plastique, closes the hatch, and runs. The smoke is getting worse. INT. BLUE CONSOURSE Another of the white-tiled traffic-tunnels, this one identified by a wide band of blue along either side. A small vehicle has overturned, amid blood and torn clothing. Jackson and her party are skirting the wreck as Hicks catches up with them. Jackson whirls at the SOUND of running feet, bringing up the pistol. HICKS Easy, Jackson! JACKSON Where y'been? A distant EXPLOSION shakes the tunnel, jarring loose several tiles. HICKS (low, so the others won't hear) They're following us. Left 'em something to slow 'em down. JACKSON Might as well. Just try not to put a hole in the hull, okay? (coughs) Remember the air-scrubber... HICKS Let's move. INT. FREIGHT ELEVATOR Bishop on his knees, running his hands delicately over the ribbed plastic flooring. The Queen HISSES, BASHES the door. He finds a seam, levers up with his nails, gets a grip. Pulls. Sense of his android strength as the flooring comes up on pale streamers of super-glue. The elevator shakes with the Queen's fury. He finds a section of the floor that can be removed. Forces the glue-caked catches. Slams down with the heel of his hand -- the panel falls away, tumbling through smoke toward a point of fire-glow at the shaft's distant foot. INT. SHAFT Bishop lowers himself through the opening, dangles. An emergency service- ladder is recessed in one wall. He tries to reach one of the rungs with his foot, but the toe of his boot slips. Too far. He begins to swing back and forth like a gymnast, building momentum -- and lets go. Falls six feet before he manages to get a grip. He begins to descend the ladder. It's a long way down. INT. BLUE CONSOURSE The lifeboat party emerges, coughing, from a wall of acrid smoke. REACTION SHOT dismay and amazement. The tunnel has been sealed with a plug of Alien resin. Human bones, weapons, and Marine helmets protrude from the biomech convolutions of the resin-wall. Another of the six-wheeled military vehicles carriers is skewed across the tunnel in a pool of blood. ROSETTI It doesn't want us to get out... HICKS Bugs. Just fucking bugs... C'mon. (he climbs into the driver's seat of the carrier) We're taking the bus. Which way, Op s? JACKSON (getting in beside him) Way we came, unless you think of something better. HALLIDAY What's he mean, "bugs"? What is that thing? (pointing at the resin-plug) Where's Tom? Where's Tom? SPENCE (taking her arm; leading her to the carrier) It'll be okay. Here, get up... There was an experiment. It got out of control. We have to go... TATSUMI What kind of experiment? HICKS (throwing the carrier into gear; cutting off their questions) Come on! INT. BLUE CONCOURSE TRACKING on carrier, CLOSE on Hicks and Jackson. She takes a fla t gadget from her jacket and flips it open; a miniature computer-map on anchorpoint, like a pocket video game. As she wiggles a tiny joystick, EXTREME CLOSEUP on miniature color screen; she's looking for an alternate route to the lifeboats. JACKSON (still studying the map) Left at B-83. We'll cut through Aquaculture, up to level to Aeroponics. We can get into |
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