Predator Page #12

INT. HUNTER'S SHIP - DAY (DUSK)

The Hunter's foot steps on the upper leg of the corpse, the PREHENSILE

SPUR digging deep, pinioning the body to the ground. The Hunter's HAND

extends, his FINGERS puncturing the skin at the base of the spine,

gripping the vertebrae.

With otherworldly strength the arm pulls, the entire SPINAL COLUMN

ripping free from the body, a sickly SNAPPING and POPPING of cartilage

separating from bone and tissue.

EXT. ENCAMPMENT - DAY (DUSK)

Ramirez is tuning in the compact FIELD RADIO, equipped with a CRYPTO-

PHONE device. Dillon holds the handset.

DILLON:

(to phone)

Blazer One, say again...

A CRACKLE of STATIC over the radio.

BLAZER ONE (V.O.)

Red Fox, I say again. Your request for extraction denied. Your area

still compromised. Proceed to Sector 3000 for prisoner extraction,

Priority Alpha. Next contact at 1030 hours.

DILLON:

(to phone; angry)

Roger, Blazer One. 1030 hours... damn, bastards.

He puts down the phone, turning to the group, huddled together in a

tight circle, Ramirez and Billy facing outward in defensive positions,

Anna, silent, watching. Schaefer is look at him.

DILLON:

(angry; shocked)

We're still too far in, they won't risk coming in for us.

SCHAEFER:

Expendable assets, Dillon. Seems Langley is never around when you need

them.

DILLON:

I can accept that, it comes with the job.

SCHAEFER:

Bullshit. You're just like the rest of us.

Dillon glares back. Schaefer leaves, lost in thought. Ramirez looks up

at the impenetrable canopy.

RAMIREZ:

Sh*t load o' good a chopper'd do us in here anyway.

Dillon turns to Mac.

DILLON:

Mac. Who hit us today?

Mac is still obviously feeling the anger and bitterness of the

mystifying event.

MAC:

Don't know, only saw one of 'em. Camouflaged. He was there...

(remembering)

... Those f***ing eyes...

DILLON:

(abruptly; pushing)

What, Sergeant?

MAC:

(returning; angry)

Those eyes... disappeared. But I know one thing, Major...

(pause)

... I drew down and fired right at it. Capped-off two hundred rounds

and then the Mini-gun; the full pack. Nothin'... nothin' on this earth

could have lived... not at that range.

Dillon ponders this for a moment, staring hard at Mac. Mac gets up.

MAC:

I've got the first watch.

Mac departs. Dillon watches Mac as he creeps forward to the sentry

position. He turns to Ramirez.

DILLON:

Ask her again. What did she see? What happened to Hawkins?

Ramirez turns to Anna. They talk quietly in Spanish, Dillon watching,

listening carefully. Ramirez turns back to Dillon.

RAMIREZ:

(interpreting)

She says the same thing... It was the jungle...

Ramirez looks up at Billy who continues to stare into the jungle,

aware, catlike, reacting to every sound, his nerves on edge, as if

ready to snap. Ramirez rises, moves alongside his friend, Dillon

watching closely.

RAMIREZ:

(whispering; imploring)

You know something Billy, what is it?

Billy turns, his face a mask of primal fear. He moves close to Ramirez.

BILLY:

I'm scared.

Ramirez is frightened by this.

RAMIREZ:

(shaken)

Bullshit. You ain't afraid of no man.

Billy looks deep into his eyes, chilling Ramirez to the bone, looking

at his with eyes which have seen on an instinctual level what the

others have so far only begun to sense.

BILLY:

There's something out there, waiting for us... it ain't no man.

Billy turns away, moving a short distance away, taking up his position.

Dillon looks after him and then into the blackness of the jungle

canopy. Dillon speaks to Ramirez.

DILLON:

He's losing his cool. There's nothing out there but a couple of men

that we're going to have to take down.

Despite his words, there is an edge of doubt in his voice. Schaefer

returns. He's overheard this exchange. He's holding the group of DOG

TAGS taken from Davis' men. He holds them up for Dillon to see.

SCHAEFER:

You still don't get it, do you Dillon? He took Davis... and now he

wants us.

INT. HUNTER'S SHIP - NIGHT

CLOSE ON an oval CHAMBER made of an otherworldly looking metal with a

strange copperlike patina, its interior bathed in INTENSE BLUE LIGHT.

In the chamber is Hawkins' SKULL CAP and SPINAL COLUMN still attached.

The light field suddenly changes as all connective tissue, flesh and

blood and drawn away from the bony structures with incredible force,

disintegrating as they rush toward the sides of the chamber.

The light changes in frequency to a dull glow as the Hunter's hands

remove the GLAZED, POLISHED trophy from the chamber. He turns,

carefully placing it upon a GLOWING SURFACE. He touches the trophy

gently, feeling its texture, as a man might touch the hide of a big

cat. He pulls his hand away and instantly an opaque FORCE FIELD covers

the trophies.

EXT. MAC - NIGHT (LATER)

Hunched down in a foxhole, the Mini-gun on a tripod before him. It's

nearly a FULL MOON, the jungle a montage of SHADOWS AND REFLECTIONS.

Mac stares into the night, his eyes always moving.

MAC:

(distant; whispering)

It's the same kinda jungle, Bro, same moon... everything...

(pause)

... areal number ten night. Remember Bro? Only you and me, the only

one's out of the whole f***in' platoon who made it out.

His eyes probe the darkness, remembering.

MAC:

... we walked out on top of 'em. Not a scratch, not a f***in' scratch.

(spits into the night)

No f***in' chili-choker got to you, Bro... you were just too good...

He ponders this a moment.

MAC:

... I promise you this, Bro... however he is, I hope he's plannin' to

hit us again...

(pauses; spits)

... 'cause he's got my name on 'em.

INT. HUNTER'S SHIP - NIGHT

A FORCE FIELD that permeates the jungle, becoming one with the trees

and foliage. The Hunter walks down a CORRIDOR of SOLID LIGHT, leading

to an opening to the jungle. As the Hunter reaches the doorway he

changes from visible to invisible, moving on into the night.

EXT. ENCAMPMENT - NIGHT

The mist has thickened, the night alive with a million JUNGLE SOUNDS.

The team members sleep uneasily, if at all.

Mac, although weary, stares hard into the night, waiting, each small

sound a potential enemy. A LULL spreads over the jungle, animals and

insects QUIETING. Mac tightens his grip on the Mini-gun.

Billy awakens, peering into the night. Nothing.

Suddenly, a metallic CLICK, a POP, the SOUND of a warning flare

rocketing into the canopy. A moment later a brilliant FLASH as the

flare burns, illuminating the camp.

An echoing eerie SCREAM fills the night as a DARK SHAPE in the mist

rockets through the undergrowth towards Mac.

Mac spins, hauling the heavy gun around, just as something crashes into

his upper body, driving the huge man into the foxhole.

A desperate battle for life ensues, illuminated with the strobing light

of the descending flare. Mac's enraged SHOUTS and ROARS mingled with

horrific SCREAMS fill the night.

Mac's razor-edged KNIFE slashes in the light; BLOOD spatters his face

as he attacks fiercely.

Schaefer and Ramirez rush at a crouching run towards the foxhole, their

weapons ready.

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