Alien Nation Page #3

Then he HEARS -- another set of FOOTSTEPS. Rapid

footsteps, coming toward him, ECHOING. He can't tell from

which direction! He spins, just as a LARGE SHAPE lunges

for him with an alien CRY.

It's the wired Raincoat alien. Sykes gets his gun up just

in time and FIRES -- once, twice, three times. Raincoat

alien is knocked backwards to the wet asphalt by the

blasts. Sykes approaches the body slowly. With an

inhuman ROAR, the alien snaps forward, lunging at Sykes

with outstretched arms. Sykes jumps back, startled, and

FIRES twice more at the pale figure. Raincoat goes down

and stays down.

Sykes relaxes for the briefest moment. Then he HEARS

it... a distinctive CLICKING SOUND, metal on metal. Sykes

looks up and -- Kipling drops down on him from directly

above! Sykes goes down in a heap. He's managed to hold

onto the gun and as Kipling comes for him, he swings the

gun hand around. Kipling sees it, lashes out, slamming

the gun from Sykes' hand. Sykes tries to get to his feet,

but the alien grabs him and flings him down the tunnel.

A SIREN is HEARD approaching in background.

Kipling moves in to deliver the coup de grace. As he

draws near, Sykes HEARS that distinctive CLICKING SOUND

again.

SYKES' P.O.V.

Though his vision is BLURRED, Sykes still gets a good look

at an exotic silver bracelet on the alien's wrist. The

strands of this bracelet are what make the CLINKING NOISE.

ANGLE:

The alien rears back, and as he does, the approaching

SIREN suddenly WAILS louder as a backup patrol car swings

onto the street heading this way. Kipling sees this and

leaves Sykes, running off down the dark tunnel.

ON SYKES:

dazed, struggling to rise. WE HEAR running FOOTSTEPS

approaching. Sykes turns, his eyes wild and unfocused.

SYKES' P.O.V.

An OUT-OF-FOCUS ALIEN FACE looming over him.

ANGLE:

Sykes whips around in a roundhouse swing with all his

weight on it, pistoning his fist straight into the alien

face. The alien, caught by surprise and off balance,

sprawls backward OUT OF FRAME. Sykes is grabbed by a

human uniformed cop, as he tries to swing again.

HUMAN COP:

Whoa, whoa... hold it. Take it easy.

(to alien on the

ground)

You okay?

Sykes stops struggling, and his eyes focus. He looks at

the alien he just decked, sprawled on his ass ten feet

away. The alien is a uniformed cop... his name is JETSON.

JETSON:

I am all right.

He gets up. A trickle of purple blood runs from his nose.

HUMAN COP:

I better call in.

He moves off. Jetson moves toward Sykes and the Raincoat

alien's body. Sykes tenses, thinking Jetson might

retaliate in some way. But Jetson simply steps past him

to kneel beside the dead alien. He checks for a pulse on

the underside of the dead alien's upper arm. Nothing.

Sykes is holding his punching hand in obvious pain. He

struggles to rise. Jetson gets an arm around him to help

him up.

JETSON:

Your hand will require attention.

Sykes roughly jerks himself free of Jetson's grip.

SYKES:

Get the hell away from me! I don't

need your goddamn help.

He almost loses his balance and has to steady himself

against the tunnel wall. Sykes leans there, the picture

of impotent rage and frustration. Jetson looks at him,

with that slight inquisitive expression aliens exhibit

when trying to understand human nature.

EXT. MINI-MART - NIGHT

OPEN on Tuggle's body, as the body bag is zipped up over

his face, and the litter is lifted into the back of the

Coroner's wagon.

WIDEN to reveal Sykes, standing nearby, watching. The

Wagon pulls out, and Sykes turns, moving past all the LAPD

black-and-whites and forensics wagons, and COPS (two of

them aliens) and DETECTIVES, and RUBBERNECKERS (some

alien). He moves into:

INT. MINI-MART - NIGHT

The CRIME SCENE TEAM is checking for prints, digging slugs

out of the wall, photographing everything. Several

UNIFORMED COPS mill around. Sykes moves aimlessly around

the room like a stranger at a party.

The Proprietor's Wife stands near the body in a strange

rigid posture, a thin, mournful KEENING SOUND coming from

her lips. A harried female uniformed cop is trying to get

her away from the body, but can't get her to budge.

MINKLER, a ballistics guy, is tagging the pump-shotgun the

Raincoat alien dropped here. NATUZZI, a mean-looking

veteran uniform cop is with him.

NATUZZI:

Looks like a standard combat pump-

action.

MINKLER:

It is.

NATUZZI:

So what punched holes clear through

that car out there?

Minkler pulls an evidence baggie from his work box.

Inside are four unfired twelve gauge shells.

MINKLER:

BRI Sabot slugs. These puppies are

nasty. Two plastic sabots fall away

in flight leaving a fifty-caliber

slug going two thousand feet per

second. Tug might as well've been

hiding behind a rosebush.

Minkler senses somebody has just stepped up beside him.

He looks. It's Sykes.

NATUZZI:

Pretty heavy artillery for knocking

over a liquor store.

A new voice enters the conversation.

JETSON (O.S.)

An identical round was used in the

shooting of a Newcomer named

Hubley, two days ago.

Sykes turns -- surprised, and not especially pleased to

see the voice is Jetson's.

MINKLER:

Yeah? So why the extra fire power?

JETSON:

Perhaps because even the larger

caliber handguns aren't always

effective against my people.

SYKES:

(mulls this, then)

You saying there's some connection

to this other homicide?

Before Jetson can say, the female cop who was talking to

the Proprietor's Wife steps up.

FEMALE COP:

Hey, give me a hand with this woman,

will ya Jetson? We've got to get

her to Division for her statement

and she won't budge.

JETSON:

(to Sykes)

Excuse me.

And he moves off with his partner. Sykes calls after him,

but Jetson is already approaching the woman and doesn't

turn.

SYKES:

So, you think there's a connection,

or what? Hey!

CUT TO:

EXT. SYKES' APARTMENT BUILDING - NIGHT

The slug-mobile pulls up. A drained Sykes moves up the

walk to his front door.

INT. SYKES' APARTMENT - NIGHT

Sykes enters his apartment, an untidy bachelor place

decorated with negative taste. It's obviously the maid's

decade off.

By rote, he hits the rewind switch on the answering

machine on his way into the kitchen. The tape rewinds.

He opens the fridge. Not much here. Left-over take-out

pizza carton. Left-over take-out Chinese food cartons.

Left-over take-out burger wrappers.

The answering machine message begins -- he glances over

his shoulder as he HEARS his daughter's VOICE. During the

following, he reaches the fridge. Brings out a milk

carton that's in his way, sets it on the counter. Reaches

in again and this time brings out a bottle of Stoly. Then

searches for a semi-clean glass.

KRISTIN'S VOICE

(bouncy, bride-to-be

happy)

Hi, Daddy, it's me. I'm over at

Danny's parents' house... talking

about Sunday. I thought maybe you'd

be home by now. Anyway, uh, nothing

really. I just wanted to call and

say I love you. I love you, Daddy.

(she giggles)

Uh-oh, I shouldn't'a done that.

Knowing you, you'll probably pull

this tape out of your machine and

save it -- in that drawer where you

keep every card I ever gave you, and

all of my old baby teeth... gross!

Anyway, Daddy, don't save this tape

-- but I do love you, and I'll talk

to you before Sunday.

(beat)

Oh, Tug and Carol came by and met

Danny last week.

(Sykes stiffens)

Danny thought Tug was the greatest

-- but, then, who doesn't? Anyway,

love you, talk to you soon. 'Bye.

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