Predator Page #9

Blain nods and pauses to rest, looking around him as Mac withdraws a

small silver POCKET FLASK. He takes a nip, passing the flask to Blain

who also takes a sip.

BLAIN:

I hear you bro, this is some sh*t. Makes Cambodia look like Kansas.

Lose your way in here, man, you be in some kinda hurt.

Blain hands back the flask, Mac replacing it inside his vest. They do

their hand dap, looking warily behind them before they move on.

EXT. ANNA AND DILLON - JUNGLE - DAY

Have fallen behind, Dillon looking worriedly ahead at the them out

distancing them. Anna is keeping her pace purposefully slow. She trips

on a root falling to the ground. She lies there, motionless. He quickly

reaches down to haul her to her feet.

DILLON:

(urgently)

Sh*t. Come on...

Like an uncoiled spring, Anna turns, flinging a handful of DIRT into

his face, momentarily blinding him. She lunges for his rifle with her

bound hands.

Suddenly the BARREL of an MP-5 is thrust into her face.

Looking up she SEES Ramirez, calmly holding the weapon on her, the look

in his eyes indicating he'd hove no trouble shooting her.

RAMIREZ:

(in Spanish)

Don't try it.

She looks back at Dillon, wiping the dirt from his eyes. She moves on.

Ramirez gives him a cold look as Dillon hurries past.

RAMIREZ:

(coolly)

You should put her on a leash, Agent Man. If you can't handle her, just

say the word.

Dillon moves on, ignoring Ramirez, who turns, scanning the jungle

behind him before moving on. Dillon catches up with Anna, turning her

sharply by the chin.

DILLON:

(cold; in Spanish)

Try that again. Please.

She looks at him contemptuously, undaunted. She will try it again. She

breaks away from his grasp and moves on, Dillon watching her go, he

won't hesitate next time.

EXT. HUNTER'S POV - DAY

As he travels, directly overhead, timing his movement with those of the

team. He moves lower, closer to the slowly moving humans.

EXT. RIVER BED - DAY

The team moves cautiously through the winding stream bed, now wearing

their clothing in various stages of disarray for comfort, sweat

dripping from their bodies.

Billy, in the lead, picks his way along the riverbank, his

concentration rapt, aboriginal. His face a trance-like mask of

expectation.

Blain, cradling the heavy Mini-gun as if it were a toy, swings the

weapon relentlessly across his field of view. He pauses to adjust the

hanging, belted loop of cartridges trailing from the back pack

magazine. An INSECT lands on his face and is trapped in the grease

paint near his lips. He draws the hapless bug into his mouth with his

tongue and quietly spits it out, his concentration unbroken.

Mac follows, holding the M-60 high across his chest.

Schaefer, bent, cautious, his feet moving aside the dry leaves on the

ground, heel to toe and on foot edges. He glances around, checking the

team's position and progress.

Hawkins follows, his mouth open, breathing deeply, exhausted, the radio

a 60 pound demon.

Anna, struggling to climb a section of the stream bank, slips on some

loose dirt. Unable to assist herself with her hands tied, she nearly

falls. Dillon prods her with his rifle, forcing her to her feet. She

scrambles up the bank, Dillon following.

EXT. RIVER BANK - DAY

As Billy enters a small clearing, bordered on one side by the towering

trees, carpeting the mountainside. High above in the thick,

impenetrable treeline, brightly colored birds SQUAWK loudly, chasing

each other from branch to branch.

Suddenly Billy stops. Schaefer holds up his hand and the team freezes

in position. An eerie SILENCE, like a slowly falling curtain, descends

over the jungle until even the BUZZING and CLICKING of insects have

CEASED.

EXT. TEAM MEMBERS - DAY

Sensing an ambush, move quietly into the foliage. Dillon moves into the

undergrowth, dragging Anna with him. He slings his MP-5 over his

shoulder, withdrawing his KNIFE. Grasping Anna by her shirt collar and

pushing her to the ground he holds the weapon near her throat. Dillon

signals to Ramirez who approaches. Dillon hands Ramirez the knife.

DILLON:

Watch her.

Before Ramirez can respond, Dillon slips into the undergrowth. Ramirez

holds the knife on Anna, cautiously scanning around him for movement.

Unseen by Ramirez, Anna's outstretched hands slowly tighten around a

stout ROOT-BURL, lying loose on the ground.

EXT. BILLY - AT THE RIVER BED - DAY

He remains frozen and transfixed, staring into the treeline. Something

is moving, fluid, silently and downward, into the forest. Billy remains

rooted to the spot, lost in concentration.

SCHAEFER:

Sensing something very wrong with Billy, moves alongside Mac.

SCHAEFER:

What's got Billy so spooked?

MAC:

Can't say, Major... been squirrely all mornin'... f***in' weird...

sometimes I think that nose of his is too good... smells things that

ain't there.

Schaefer signals for Mac to cover him and then moves low and quiet

towards Billy. Dillon appears, looking to Mac for an explanation. Mac

ignores him, concentrating on the jungle. Dillon looks forward at...

Billy, his eyes riveted to the capony above, as he unconsciously

reaches to his throat, grasping a LEATHER POUCH, secured to his neck by

a thong. He fingers the MEDICINE BAG talisman.

EXT. HUNTER'S POV - DAY

As he slowly descends through the trees, moving towards Billy, who's

eyes search the treeline for movement.

BACK TO SCENE - SCHAEFER

Approaches Billy, gripping his shoulders and in a hoarse whisper,

speaks his name.

SCHAEFER:

What is it...?

Billy, rigid, does not respond. Schaefer forcefully jerks his around to

face him.

SCHAEFER:

Billy... What the hell's wrong with you?

BILLY:

(low)

Something... in the trees...

EXT. HUNTER'S POV - DAY

Still closing in on Billy. Billy turns back, looking high into the

trees, puzzled and frightened. He's lost sense of the Hunter's

presence. He lowers his vision, looking towards the Hunter, now on the

ground, 30 yards across the clearing from Billy. The Hunter pauses.

BACK TO SCENE - BILLY AND SCHAEFER

BILLY:

(whispers)

Can you see anything...

(points)

... there?

Schaefer stares hard at the jungle.

SCHAEFER:

It's... nothing...

EXT. HUNTER'S POV - DAY

Moves behind a broad fern, skirting around Billy and Schaefer, heading

away from the column.

BACK TO SCENE - BILLY AND SCHAEFER

Schaefer shakes his head, continuing to stare into the jungle. He turns

to Billy.

SCHAEFER:

What do you think...?

Billy turns, a puzzled look in his eyes. He nods in agreement.

BILLY:

It's nothing...

EXT. ANNA AND RAMIREZ - DAY

Sensing the danger has passed, Ramirez releases his grip on Anna. As

they start to rise, Ramirez sheaths his knife and unslings his MP-5.

Anna still stares hard into the jungle.

Suddenly, without even looking, Anna with the trained reflexes of an

experienced fighter swings the BURL with all her might, catching

Ramirez hard on the side of the head, just above the eye, opening a

wicked gash. Spinning around she knees him brutally in the groin. As

Ramirez goes down, doubled over in pain, Anna turns, scrambling up the

embankment, running for the jungle.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes