INT. ESCAPE CORRIDOR: Drake and Vasquez are opening up on the creatures. They seem to appear from every nook and cranny in the chamber.
HICKS: Come on! Let's move it!
VASQUEZ (to Drake): Come on! Let's go! Let's go!
EXT. / INT. APC: Hicks and Hudson appear in front of the APC. The debris around the APC blocks their way for a straight-away shot to the crew-door.
HUDSON: It's blocked, man! We've gotta go around!
Ripley sees Hicks and Hudson out of the APC's front windows. Burke is right next to her.
RIPLEY: Open the door! (into head mic) Hicks!
Burke quickly moves to open it.
HICKS: Drake! We are leaving!
DRAKE: Give some, Vas! Run for it! Shit!
Drake goes empty, slaps the buckles, cutting loose his smart-gun harness, and unslings a flamethrower he has picked up.
INT. HOLD - APC: Hicks carries Hudson inside quickly, dropping him down on some ammo boxes.
HUDSON: Let's go! Let's go!
VASQUEZ: Drake, come on, man! We're going!
Hicks pulls Vasquez inside, massive gear and all. Drake is right behind her, frying the chamber with his flamethrower.
VASQUEZ: Drake, come on!
A dark shape rises next to him. Vasquez notices it first and fires 10 bursts, prone.
Clean body hits. The flashes light up the inhuman grin, blowing open the thing's body.
A spray of bright yellow acid slashes across Drake's face and chest, eating into him like a hot knife through butter. He yells, dropping in boiling smoke, reflexively triggering his flamethrower.
The jet of liquid fire arcs around as he falls, engulfing the back half of the APC.
INT. HOLD - APC: Vasquez rolls aside as a gout of napalm shoots through the crew-door, setting the interior on fire.
HUDSON: Fire in the hold!
Burke grabs a fire extinguisher and quickly begins spraying the contents on the fire. Hudson hands Gorman one as well while everyone moves around to get out of the way.
HICKS (voice over): He's gone!
VASQUEZ (voice over): No! Drake’s out there!
HUDSON: Put it out! Put it out! Put it out! Go! Go! Go!
Hicks is rolling the door closed when Vasquez lunges, clawing out the opening. He stops her, dragging her inside.
VASQUEZ: Christotatmen! Drake!
HICKS: He's gone!
VASQUEZ: No...he's not!
Hicks snaps off her armor and gun. Slams her against the door and yells in her face.
HICKS: Forget 'em! He's gone!
Ripley works the reverse gears.
Hicks get the door almost closed when, suddenly, claws appear at the edge. The door is being slowly wrenched open from the outside. Hicks yells at a paralyzed Gorman.
HICKS: Get on the goddamn door!
Vasquez and Hudson move up and help close the door, while Hicks reaches down and grabs his twelve-gauge from the floor.
An alien head wedges through the opening, it's hideous mouth opening. Hicks jams his shotgun muzzle between it's jaws.
HICKS: Eat this!
He pulls the trigger! BLAM! The back of the creature's head explodes, spraying acid blood.
The spray eats into the door, the deck, and some hits Hudson on the arm. He yells in pain. Hicks and Vasquez slide the door home and dog it tight.
HICKS: Ripley! Go, go, go!
EXT. APC: The armored vehicle roars backward. Pulling out of the wreckage around and behind it.
INT. / EXT. APC: Ripley works the shifters. The APC squeals forward, up the access ramp it had come down earlier. The soldiers inside grab for hand-holds as they are buffeted around.
The shock of the sudden forward acceleration tears loose a storage rack, sending some heavy ammo cases down on Gorman, knocking him unconscious. Ripley jams the actuators hard, turning the APC quickly to the right into the main access corridor.
CLOSE-UP ON FRONT OF APC: a huge dent is visible on the front right bumper and the rear left side of the machine is still on fire.
Ripley hears a thud on the APC. As she looks out the small windshield, an alien arm suddenly arcs down, right in front of her face. It smashes the window. Glistening, hideous jaws lunge partially inside. Ripley recoils. Face to face once again with the same mind-numbing horror.
She reacts instinctively by slamming on both sets of brakes with all her strength. The huge wheels lock.
The creature flips off, landing in the headlights. Ripley hits full throttle.
The APC roars forward, crushing the skeletal body under the right massive wheel.
The machine powers ahead and comes smashing through the Atmosphere thundering out into the open landscape and away from the station. A sound like bolts dropping in a meat grinder is coming from the APC's rear end. Hicks moves up and eases Ripley's hand back on the throttle lever. Her grip is white knuckled.
HICKS: It's alright...we're clear! Ripley, you've blown the transaxle! You’re just grinding metal! Come on, ease down! Ease down! Ease down. Ease down.
EXT. APC - LANDSCAPE: The personnel carrier limps to a halt, a smoking acid-scarred mass...A half-kilometer from the station.