Point Break Page #23

UTAH (RADIO)

Whoooaaah! Shhiiittt! Whoooaaah!

BODHI:

I'll take that as a yes.

One by one they stabilize. Falling face down, knees bent,

they angle their hands and feet minutely to move

laterally. Utah flails, the last to trim out. But he's

holding his own.

Grommet, working his duckfeet, pitches himself into a wild

spin, rotating like a dervish in a head down dive. He

flares out and "flies" back to the others.

Rocketing through the void at 120 mph they seem to

paradoxically hang above the world, almost unmoving... on

a separate plane of existence.

A hurricane of wind. Wild HOOTING.

Despite his terror, Johnny has to grin at Nathaniel,

falling butt first like he's sitting on a big inner tube

in the pool.

ROACH:

Whip it out dudes! Cheap sex with

the cosmos!

BODHI:

Ten thousand feet. Let's do it.

The group stabilizes, moving together.

First Bodhi and Roach link arms, trimming constantly.

Concentrating. Nathaniel flips over onto his stomach and

maneuvers toward them. He grabs Roach's arm.

Grommet works his way next to Nathaniel. Locks in.

They need Utah to complete the ring.

Four faces beckoning to him, distorted by the hurricane

wind.

BODHI:

Come on Johnny. Get in here!

Johnny moves his hands like flippers and glides clumsily

toward them. Bodhi and Grommet grab him. He's in.

A perfect five-man star.

BODHI:

Relax, brah. I got you, I got you.

GROMMET:

Righteous-ass speedstar, dudes!

BODHI:

You diggin' this?

UTAH:

Great! GREAT!

Johnny is exhilarated more than he could have thought.

Screaming down through the dawn sky at 130.

Locked into the ring. Part of something.

Connected to these guys far above the planet.

Less far every second... Bodhi's chest altimeter reads

6,000 feet.

BODHI:

Purty-thirty and we're meat waffles,

folks. See ya downtown!

He releases Roach's arm and the star disintegrates,

drifting apart.

Bodhi stays with Utah, falling parallel to the horizon,

facing each other, holding hands. 4000 feet. Airspeed

140.

Grommet pulls his ripcord. He seems to be jerked upward

by a great force. Suddenly he is far above, a brightly

colored disc of fabric.

Utah is suddenly aware of the earth rushing up at him.

Nathaniel pulls, then Roach. They shoot upward,

disappearing.

Bodhi and Utah fall on, alone.

BODHI:

You gonna pull?

UTAH:

After you, Alfonse. I insist!

Bodhi looks at Utah. A slow grin. The meter on his chest

harness reads 2000 ft. 150 mph. 12 seconds to Valhalla.

BODHI:

Don't screw around man, pull it!

UTAH:

You do it... you first!

BODHI:

One thousand feet. Pull the goddamn

cord!

UTAH:

You first!

BODHI:

Okay!

Bodhi reaches out suddenly and pulls Utah's ripcord

handle.

He waves goodbye as Johnny's canopy deploys. Utah is

jerked upward. He feels his weight hanging brutally in

the harness.

Johnny looks down.

Impossibly close to the ground. Bodhi's canopy BURSTS

OUT, an explosion of color. Below him is the shimmering

mirror of a LARGE RESERVOIR. Two seconds later the bright

yellow canopy meets its reflection and goes slack. An

explosion of white water marks Bodhi's impact.

LOW ANGLE AT WATER LEVEL as Utah hits.

IN SLOW MOTION a glorious wall of backlit spray shouts

skyward.

Molten glass falling back in the bright desert dawn.

Utah surfaces, sputtering, and shucks out of the harness.

He floats like a jellyfish, gasping for breath.

UTAH:

Jesus Christ. I gotta be losin' it.

CUT TO:

EXT. AIRFIELD - DAY

Bodhi walks toward us, dripping wet and grinning.

He wraps his arm around Utah's shoulders as the others

walk up.

They're all soaked and stoked.

BODHI:

Ya see... I told you Johnny U was

gonna be just fine!

Roach and the others clap him on the back. A moment of

acceptance into the tribe. Utah isn't sure what it means

yet.

BODHI:

C'mere. There's something you need

to see.

Bodhi leads him toward a PLAIN UTILITY VAN parked nearby.

It was there earlier but Utah had no reason to notice it.

Bodhi opens the rear doors and motions Johnny inside.

Utah, puzzled and suddenly alert, steps in. Bodhi

follows.

INT. VAN - DAY

The interior is empty except for several canvas duffel

bags and a small portable VCR. It is one of the new sales

presentation models, with deck and monitor together in one

tiny unit.

UTAH:

What's this?

BODHI:

Insurance policy. Now this is going

to sting a bit, but it's for your

own growth, brah. Press play.

Utah hits the button and an image comes up on the tiny

screen.

TIGHT ON SCREEN. A night shot. Rosie the biker has Tyler

in a powerful grip. Her hands are cuffed behind her, and

her mouth is taped. He has his switchblade up to her

throat. Her eyes are wild, but with rage, not fear.

She's trying to struggle out of his grip, kicking at him

viciously.

He controls her efficiently.

Bodhi stops the tape.

BODHI:

She's a wild one, isn't she...

Special Agent Utah?

Utah lunges, pinning Bodhi to the wall of the van... an

elbow across his throat.

UTAH:

You're a f***ing dead man--

BODHI:

(gasping for breath)

Whoa, whoa!! Think it through! I'm

the only one knows where they are.

Just let me talk for a second.

Johnny pulls back. Barely in control.

UTAH:

Talk.

BODHI:

She'll be fine, Rosie won't do

anything. At least not as long as I

meet him at a certain place and time,

about... let's see...

(he looks at his

dive Rolex)

... six hours from now.

Utah's voice sounds kind of strangled.

UTAH:

You call him... right now... and

tell him to let her go.

BODHI:

Sorry, can't do it, brah. He's on

the road. And where they're going

there's no phones. Damn, I hate

this Johnny, I really do. I hate

violence. See, that's why I need

Rosie. I could never make this

thing work, myself. No way I could

hold a knife to Tyler's throat, man!

She was my woman, once. We shared

time in this world. But Rosie, he's

kind of a... mechanism. Once you

set him in motion, he won't stop.

That's his gift, a kind of...

blankness. Noon comes, straight up,

he'll gut her like a pig and try not

to get any on his shoes. Nothing I

can do, unless I get there.

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