Point Break Page #20

Everything is a blur. Suburbia smeared into staccato

impressions.

The house across the street is blocked by fence on both

sides.

A MAN is picking up his mail.

Reagan pounds past him. Right through the front door of

the house.

Utah follows.

Panting as he sprints down a dark hallway.

A WOMAN with a basket of washing SCREAMS as Reagan blasts

past her, knocking her flying.

Utah leaps over her sprawled legs.

Cats blur underfoot. Utah crunches down on a tail. A CAT

EXPLOSION. Screeching merges with the woman's shrill

shouts as Utah slams the back screen door off its hinges.

Across the back yard. Fence. Over it. Running on.

REAGAN looks back.

Sees Utah still behind him like in a bad dream.

He enters the next house. Sliding glass door.

Utah sees Reagan pull it closed. Locking it.

Without breaking stride Johnny grabs a potted plant off a

patio wall.

Heaves it ahead of him.

The glass BURST INTO A WALL OF DIAMONDS.

Utah blasts through a microsecond later.

Topples the kitchen table. Furniture and crockery

crashing everywhere.

He sprints down a hallway after Reagan.

A FIERCE WOMAN in a housecoat shouting at them as they

pass, holding a vacuum cleaner like it's shot-gun.

WOMAN:

Get the f*** out of this house!

What the f*** do you think you're

doing--

Around a corner. A VICIOUS SNARLING SOUND.

Utah sees something flying at him. Reflexively catches

it.

Reagan has thrown a PIT-BULL.

The Fierce Woman's fierce dog.

UTAH'S POV -- the snarling little demon right in his face.

He drop-kicks it like a goddamn field-goal right through a

doorway and runs on.

Another door. Another explosion of sunlight. Another

yard.

Sprinklers this time. Reagan and Utah running through

sunlit walls of rain. They crash through another hedge.

Emerging drenched.

The ground drops away. Slipping and sliding on iceplant,

they skid down a steep slope. Reagan reaches bottom.

A TEN FOOT RETAINING WALL, dropping off like a cliff to

pavement below.

Reagan falls, landing on his feet.

Panting now, feeling it, he stumbles up and runs on.

Utah rips down through the iceplant like a human

lawnmower.

Slides over the edge. Falls -- lands hard.

TIGHT ON HIS KNEE and SLOW MOTION.

Taking the impact.

We HEAR something go.

Utah crashes to the pavement, his face contorted with

pain.

He grabs his tortured knee with both hands.

UTAH:

Not now. Not now!

Reagan runs on. They are in an enclosed storage yard of

some kind. Ten foot chainlink all around.

Utah struggles to get up and run.

He sprawls forward, biting back a howl of pain.

We see the incredible will driving him on.

He gets up and again, hobbling. Trying to run.

Reagan reaches the fence.

He is heaving for breath. Holding his side.

Utah stumbles, gets up, clutching his knee.

Hobbling forward. His eyes wild, the veins in his neck

bulging.

Reagan starts to climb. Utah collapses to his knees. He

can't go on.

Reagan reaches the top of the fence. He looks back.

UTAH HAS THE BERETTA POINTED RIGHT AT HIM.

Twenty feet away. The muzzle rock-steady. He can't miss.

They both are frozen, panting. Locked into the moment.

REAGAN:

You want me, there's only one way.

PAPPAS reaches the top of the hill, 200 feet away, panting

like he's about to collapse. He sees the tableau.

ECU -- UTAH'S FINGER on the trigger. Tightening.

RACK TO his eyes. Blinking, water running into them.

God, he wants to.

ECU -- REAGAN'S EYES, through the mask. Locked with

Utah's.

UTAH suddenly snaps his hand up and FIRES VERTICALLY.

HE HOWLS WITH RAGE, FRUSTRATION AND PAIN.

FIRES AGAIN. And AGAIN.

Slumping back, his shoulders slam down onto the concrete.

Straight-arming the Beretta he FIRES RAPIDLY...

Bulleting the blue sky.

HIGH ANGLE, looking straight down on the tableau.

Reagan leaps off the fence and runs OUT OF FRAME, as Utah

empties the magazine straight at us, the shots merging

with his agonized howl, echoing as we--

CUT TO:

INT. FBI BUILDING - BULLPEN - NIGHT

UTAH sits next to the DISPATCHER waiting for news like a

sailor in a storm. His leg is popped up on a chair with

jeans split to the thigh and an ace bandage wrapped around

his knee.

His face is a nasty patchwork of scratches and bruises.

He drains his coffee and gazes out at the empty bullpen.

PAPPAS comes through the doors, wiping the remains of

dinner off his mouth.

PAPPAS:

Nothing?

UTAH:

Nothing.

The Dispatcher talks into his headset, glances up at

Pappas, shakes his head.

PAPPAS:

Go home, kid. Get the hell outta

here. Get some sleep. You look

like sh*t. They get anything even

resembles your guy, I'm on your

beeper. Here. You like feta?

He smiles warmly, handing his younger partner a brown

paper sack.

UTAH:

Feta. My favorite.

Managing a weary smile. Lifts his body out of the chair,

turns to go.

Angelo ponders something.

PAPPAS:

Johnny...

Utah stops. Looks back at the man.

PAPPAS:

All I wanna know is one thing, why

didn't you just take the shot?

Johnny's gaze turns inward.

UTAH:

I don't know.

CUT TO:

INT. BATHROOM - UTAH'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

UTAH sits on the bathroom floor as Tyler dabs Betadyne

antiseptic over his wounds. Utah cringes.

UTAH:

Ouch.

TYLER:

Betadyne doesn't hurt.

UTAH:

You're kneeling on my hand.

She laughs, shifts her weight and keeps tending him.

TYLER:

So what'd the other guy look like?

UTAH:

Never saw him, was your basic hit

and run.

TYLER:

But you look like you been in a

train wreck, how'd he just drive

away?

Utah acts like he wants to say something but his mouth

won't quite form the words. Tyler dabs his face, touches

a finger to his forehead.

TYLER:

Johnny, what is it with you? You

have that look again, it's like

you're about to tell me something

and then you don't... or you can't.

What's going on?

Johnny searches her eyes.

She stares at him, becoming fragile suddenly.

TYLER:

What? What do you want to tell me?

Utah's brow unfurls. The thought has passed. He slowly

cups his hand over hers. Gently pulling her close.

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