Escape from L.A. Page #6

The sub continues on, bouncing through the narrow openings of the

Earthquake Ride - broken pipes, cracked sidewalks, split walls -

hard to tell what was the ride and what was The Big One.

INT. SUBMARINE

Plissken hangs on, as small jets of water spray into the cockpit

through tiny cracks in the hull.

EXT. UNDERWATER - MOVING WITH THE SUBMARINE - NIGHT

The sub suddenly tips upward, rising for the surface.

EXT. SHORELINE - CAHUENGA PASS - NIGHT

The sub explodes out of the water, lands belly first on a hillside

with a hard thump.

INT. SUBMARINE

Plissken presses the hatch controls. The sub begins to slide

backwards down toward the water.

INT. SUBMARINE

Plissken struggles, then rips open the hatch, scrambles out. The

sub slowly slips backwards, down into the water. As the rear

exhaust tubes hit the surface, a blast of steam. Plissken leaps

out of the hatch. The sub sinks faster and faster. He scampers up

the side, leaps for ground... and lands on the hillside, as the

sub sinks into the sea, bubbling, churning, hissing.

A bleeping sound. He takes out his pocket walkie, raises the

antenna.

MALLOY (V.O.)

Plissken...?

PLISSKEN:

I'm here.

MALLOY (V.O.)

Where's the submarine? It's disappeared

off our screens.

PLISSKEN:

It's history. I gotta go.

Plissken clicks off the walkie, pockets it, turns to climb up the

hillside when...

WHAM! Standing above him is a dark figure. Hooded. Carrying

something huge and rounded at the ends.

Plissken raises his submachine gun...

... as PIPELINE steps closer. He's a surfer in a black wetsuit.

Carries a surfboard. A rifle is slung across his shoulder.

Pipeline's face is raw, burned - too many hours surfing in the UV.

PIPELINE:

Too bad about your boat, man.

(Plissken doesn't move)

Supposed to be some swells out here

tonight. Big ones.

(beat)

You like to surf?

Realizing Pipeline is no danger, Plissken moves past him up the

hillside.

PIPELINE:

You look kinda familiar.

(beat)

You hang out around here much?

But Plissken's moved off into the darkness.

EXT. MULHOLLAND DRIVE - NIGHT - RAIN

Plissken reaches old Mulholland Drive, now dark and desolate.

Shells of houses stand nearby, black and empty. It has begun to

rain.

The sound of gunfire. Plissken ducks behind a tree...

Two old cars come zooming up Mulholland, side by side. Windows

down. Guns blazing at each other. They pass Plissken, continue

down Mulholland, ripping each other apart with gunfire. Plissken

darts across Mulholland, down the mountainside.

EXT. MOUNTAINSIDE - NIGHT - RAIN

The rain pours down as Plissken makes his way down a steep

incline.

CRACK! A dark figure steps out from behind a tree. Plissken spins,

submachine gun ready. It's Pipeline.

PIPELINE:

Hey, man. I know who you are. You're Snake

Plissken. Man, I can't believe you're

really here.

More gunfire from above on Mulholland...

PIPELINE:

Kind of a bad neighborhood, Snake.

PLISSKEN:

Which way to the Hollywood Bowl?

PIPELINE:

(points)

Down that way.

Plissken starts down.

PIPELINE:

Be careful. Some real strange dudes

hangin' out there these days.

Plissken continues moving, now just a blurry figure in the rain.

PIPELINE:

Hey Snake - what're you doin' around here,

man?

(as Plissken disappears)

I heard they busted you up real good in

Cleveland...

EXT. HILLS ABOVE THE HOLLYWOOD BOWL - NIGHT - RAIN

The rain is coming down in a torrent as Plissken makes his way

down the hillside. Then, all at once, the rain lets up, then

stops. The trees drip with moisture. Suddenly, a huge KATHUMP from

above him. Plissken looks back. A huge mudslide is roaring its way

down the hill toward him.

Plissken races down the hill, but the mudslide cascades downward

like a freight train, catches up with him, sweeps him off his

feet... and Plissken goes riding down the hill, rumbling and

sliding in the mud.

EXT. STAND OF TREES - NIGHT

The mudslide hits a flat area near a stand of trees, spreads out,

slows. A completely mud-covered, black Plissken climbs out of the

goo. He's dripping with it. His one good eye shines in the

moonlight. He takes a couple steps toward the edge of the treeline

when...

A VOICE (SPINAL) (V.O.)

Shut-up, f***! Stop makin' noise!

Plissken spins. He's standing right next to SPINAL, the leader of

the Black Cowboy Gang. Dressed in black, boots with spurs, black

duster, black cowboy hat, he carries an automatic rifle. He looks

just like Charles Barkley.

Plissken looks around, realizes he's in the middle of a small army

of Black Cowboys, crouched behind the trees, waiting in ambush.

Covered with mud, Plissken blends right in.

SPINAL:

Take cover, fool.

Plissken jumps behind a tree, looks down the hillside.

PLISSKEN'S POV - THE HOLLYWOOD BOWL

Below his position is the Hollywood Bowl. A huge cross is on

stage, and the cross is on fire.

CLOSER - HOLLYWOOD BOWL

A group of white hooded men, the K.K.K., stand in front of the

burning cross holding a ceremony. Next to the cross on stage, a

hooded K.K.K. string quartet begins playing a Hayden concerto.

Plissken reacts.

SPINAL:

Let's take him.

A Black Cowboy raises his M79 grenade launcher, as the others

quickly race down the hillside. He fires.

THE HOLLYWOOD BOWL

A 40mm armor-piercing grenade leaves a blazing fire trail as it

rockets toward the burning cross and - KABLAMMO! A fireball blows

pieces of the cross into the air. The K.K.K. spin around...

A blast of lightning illuminates the Black Cowboys attacking from

the hills. They open fire. A K.K.K. Grand Dragon is picked off his

feet, buffeted in mid-air, flesh and robe shredded by gunfire. A

hail of bullets hits the K.K.K. They return fire, but are

overwhelmed. They are hit, jerking and twisting. Fire from the

Black Cowboys is withering, racking the hooded figures like bolts

of lightning. The Black Cowboys keep advancing, firing, as it

starts to rain again.

Through the cloudy wash of dribbling rain water, the firefight

continues. Four K.K.K. leap out from behind a row of seats and

jump Plissken, knocking his gun to the ground. In a blinding

flash, using hands, feet, and head, Plissken sends them flying. As

he reaches down to pick up his submachine gun, he sees that the

rain is washing the mud off his body...

AND SO DOES SPINAL, who stands nearby, watching as Plissken is

washed clean by the rain. Spinal raises his weapon, then stops.

SPINAL:

Hey. I know you. Snake Plissken.

Plissken slowly stands, his submachine gun in his hand. Behind

them, the firefight is almost over. The K.K.K. scatter into the

rain...

SPINAL:

Hey, what's going down, Snake?

PLISSKEN:

I'm looking for somebody.

SPINAL:

Who ain't?

Plissken pulls out his tracer. It is blipping red, just south of

the Bowl.

SPINAL:

Say, is it true what they say about

Cleveland, man?

Plissken doesn't answer. He moves on through the rain...

SPINAL:

Later, Snake. Thanks for the help. You can

always shift down and mojo with us

anytime.

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