Predator Page #20

Schaefer runs on, again picking up the blood traces of the fleeing

Hunter.

EXT. HUNTER'S CAMP

At the edge of the site. He SEES the Hunter staggering through the

foliage.

Schaefer starts after him but then stops, dumbfounded by the incredible

images that crash in on him: TRANSLUCENT HUMAN SKINS stretched over

frames, the hair of the attached scalps moving lightly in the wind;

SKINNED BODIES, some lying on the ground, others hung from the trees,

like Hopper and his men were.

He turns back, SEEING the Hunter as he passes through the shimmering

distortion of a FORCEFIELD enveloping the forest. Within the force

field he SEES the vague, nearly transparent OUTLINE of the Hunter's

ship.

He approaches it, wide-eyed, his senses reeling with astonishment and

rage.

From within the force field, a PASSAGE WAY of BLUE LIGHT appears, the

Hunter's form backlit as he ascends the RAMP to his spacecraft.

THE HUNTER:

As he passes his hand through a light BEAM, the ship instantly

responds, as a low, TURBINELIKE HOWL is HEARD, building slowly in

volume and pitch.

SCHAEFER:

In his weakened condition staggers forward, looking up, SEEING the

passage way of light diminish as the door begins to close.

As rising HEAT WAVES begin to envelope the ship, the Hunter stares out

at Schaefer, the heat waves increasing as the KEENING WHINE of the

ship's drive builds. He enters the force field, the door now inches

from closing.

On the ground, nearly obscured by the grass and leaves, Schaefer SEES

the Hunter's WEAPON, lying where he dropped it in his desperate flight

to escape.

Schaefer grabs up the weapon and holds it. How the hell does it

work?... He squeezes the handle of the weapon feeling it resist.

Nothing happens.

With the last ounce of his strength, and with a BELLOW of RAGE, his arm

muscles bulging, he crushes down on the handle...

In a FLASH of blue-white light, the weapon becomes ACTIVATED.

Schaefer raises the weapon, sensing its power and function.

In the final seconds before the door closes, Schaefer, with a

triumphant SCREAM, fires the weapon...

The weapon, flaring with deadly energy, drops and turns sideways,

accelerating through the door and into the spacecraft.

INT. SPACECRAFT - DAY

The weapon impacts the Hunter, his head EXPLODING in a fountain of

orange blood and pale green tissue.

The weapon continues on, burying itself into the energy field, bolts of

plasma-energy begin arcing from the force field.

Schaefer falls forward onto his hands and knees, staring at the

Hunter's ship. The SOUND of the hyper-drive continues to increase, as

the ship begins to tremble.

EXT. HELICOPTER COCKPIT - DAY

As suddenly the instrument panel goes wild, gauges spinning, digital

readouts racing out of control. The SOUND of the turbine faltering,

changing pitch. The pilot lurches forward with the stick, fighting for

control.

EXT. HUNTER'S CAMP - DAY

The multi harmonic whine of the Hunter's ship is still building as the

ground begins to shake.

Schaefer, realizing that the ship is going to explode, and ignoring the

pain of his shoulder and leg, runs desperately, searching for cover. He

sprints for the edge of the clearing, diving over the embankment just

as:

A blinding purple FLASH blows the ship to pieces.

EXT. HELICOPTER - COCKPIT - DAY

Enveloped in the flash of intense light. CRIES of surprise fill the

ship as the SHOCK-WAVE hits the chopper, heeling it hard over to one

side.

Below, the concentric waves of energy race outward from the center of

the blast, an unearthly sight, like the miniature birth of a star.

The helicopter suddenly regains control, its power restored.

PILOT:

Holy, f***, what was that...?!!!

PHILIPS:

Orbit right... check it out!

The helicopter levels out and heads toward the smoking, devastated site

of the blast.

EXT. HUNTER'S CAMP - DAY

The jungle has been completely transformed. No longer lush and verdant,

the area is clear-cut, two feet above the ground, covered in FINE

WHITE, smoldering ASH. Amongst the shattered stumps, debris from the

ship, bright as magnesium flares, burns with exotic colors.

If the foreground, Schaefer, a living dead-man, streaked with the alien

ash, rises up from a shallow depression, staring dumbstruck at the

site.

Breaking in low over the treetops, the HELICOPTERS flare up into

position, one preparing to land.

As the chopper descends, the crew, standing in the door way, stare

transfixed at the devastation, their eyes trying to penetrate the dense

white smoke.

As the helicopter slowly descends, its propwash creating a raging

storm, Schaefer materializes from the SWIRLING SMOKE AND ASH, his

features taking form as he approaches, his naked body covered in mud,

blood and ash.

EXT. SCHAEFER'S POV - LANDING HELICOPTER - DAY

As the chopper, emerging from the vortex, settles towards the ground

where the spacecraft once stood. Through the distorted veil, the

helicopter, bristling with

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