Their shoes pound heavily against the floor while behind them, growing ever closer, the shapeshifter follows on heavy, misshapen limbs. It lets out a harsh, garbled noise that somehow sounds gravely and wet both at once, like somebody decided to gargle coffee grounds then amplify that sound by a hundred percent.

It lashes out at them with too-long limbs, but it thankfully Stan's assault seems to be slowing it down - those shots he hastily fires over his shoulder, though they miss their mark, waylay the shapeshifter enough to keep it from breathing down their necks as they race towards the cryo-pods.

Ford is quick on his feet, adrenaline running hot in his veins as he slams his fist down on the side of the nearest pod, pressing the activation button harder than is strictly necessary to actually get the machine up and running. The pod's glass door opens with a hiss of hydraulics, a flood of mist spilling out onto the floor and chilling the air around them near instantly.

He moves to the next pod, throwing a concerned look over his shoulder towards Stan.

"We'll need to force it in somehow, wound it enough that it can't fight back!"

That means they're going to have to actually hit it with one of those bullets - whether Stan can bring himself to look at the thing or not.