Alien: Isolation

Chapter Five: Transit Hub

Just like that, he was gone. One second he had been standing there, and then just... gone; dragged up into an open service duct by... Ripley didn't know what the hell that thing was. For several seconds she just sat there against the boxes, terrified that whatever had taken Axel would come back for her if she made even the slightest noise to disrupt the silence that had retaken over the room. She wanted to run, or hide, or anything, but she was frozen... just sitting there like a terrified little girl who was afraid there was something in her closet.

Back then her mother would have told her that there were no such things as monsters, and that there was nothing in the dark, but this time there was, and it was this thought that finally allowed her to move. Deciding to risk it, Ripley slowly inched forward, keeping her eyes on the open service duct while reaching for the fallen maintenance jack. It hadn't done Axel much good, but it was better than nothing, and if that... whatever it was came back...

No, no more thinking about that. She wasn't some scared little girl, she was a professional... a God damn Engineer, and people were counting on her... she had a job to do, and she would never find out what happened to her mother if she just sat there waiting for some shadow monster to come back for her. So she got up, slowly and quietly now, and made her way toward the other door, her eyes never leaving the service duct even for a second until she was through, and hit the override switch to close and lock the door behind her.

Now that she was in a different room than whatever had taken Axel, the urge to curl up into a little ball and cry her eyes out was strong, but she had to keep moving. Now focus, damn it, Ripley, her mind scolded. Now, Axel said that Comms was in the Sys/Tech Spire, and from the way they were going, the transit elevator had to be somewhere in this general direction, so she started walking, finding herself looking around at the floor and ceiling nervously... and now gaining an eerie understanding of Axel's earlier behavior.

"Gotta keep moving." She said to herself. "Just... gotta keep moving."

There were painted directory signs every now and again, letting her know that she was going the right way, and so far she had not seen any more survivors, since given the last group, was probably a good thing. The corridors twisted and turned down the empty areas of Sevastopol for what seemed like forever, with Ripley clutching the maintenance jack tightly while jumping a little at even the slightest sound. But then it happened, she rounded a corner, and the door marked Transit Hub appeared in front of her.

"What the hell is wrong with this fucking thing?!" A female voice yelled from inside. "Work God damn it!"

"Will you just chill the hell out?" Another voice replied. "You know what, gimme that thing! Burke'll have all our asses if you break it."

The sound of those voices was enough to make Ripley stop in the doorway, and the mention of Burke, the one who had killed a man because he might have stolen a few supplies, was enough to make her slowly start backing out the way she came. But then there was a sound behind her, like something rapidly approaching, and she turned around just in time for a pair of hands to pull the maintenance jack away from her. It was Burke, along with some of the people, but before she could do anything, he swung the maintenance jack, slamming the hammer end right into her stomach.

The wind was knocked out of her even before the pain registered, but once it did, she bent forward, dropping to her knees, and reflexively wrapping her arms around her stomach as she fell over sideways. Finally Ripley was able to let out a labored and pain-filled gasp, but by then Burke snapped his fingers, making the others grab her and drag her into the Transit Hub when they entered. There was too much pain for her to understand the conversations going on; something about the main elevator in the back, and something not working right, but Ripley had bigger things to worry about.