The Fugitive Page #6

SHERIFF:

On whose authority?

GERARD:

By authority of the Governor of the

State of Illinois and the office of

the United States Marshal, 5th

District Northern Illinois...

Poole produces State and Federal authorization documents

from one of her pockets and hands it to the young Sheriff.

SHERIFF:

(back-down beat)

Okay. You want jurisdiction over

this mess, you got it.

(to assistants)

Shut it down. Wyatt Earp is here to

mop up for us.

He slaps the file of fax-photos at Gerard on his way out.

Just as Biggs, spotless, eases ino the group with Kimble's

manacles. Behind Biggs we see Newman, covered in mud.

Seeing the leg irons, the Sheriff and his deputies pile to

a stop. Now Gerard takes his run at Old Guard.

GERARD:

Please, ladies and gentlemen, step

back and give this poor man some

room.

Like an obedient dog the press backs off, they sense a

change of story and command.

Gerard kneels down with Poole and Renfro in front of the

Old Guard. The Sheriff hovers near.

GERARD:

(friendly, to Old

Guard)

Always an interesting thing when we

find leg irons and no legs in them

who held the keys, sir?

OLD GUARD:

Uh, me.

GERARD:

Would you be so kind as to show them

to me, sir?

Gerard's large hand extends palm up at the Old Guard.

The Old Guard pats his pockets, comes up empty. He eyes the

press hovering just out of earshot.

GERARD:

Second chance.

Poole reopens the file of photos in front of the man.

The Old Guard can't take it - points to Kimble's photo.

OLD GUARD:

(cracking)

He mighta got out.

GERARD:

Thank you.

SHERIFF:

What the hell is this? A minute ago

you tell me he's part of the

wreckage, now you're -

GERARD:

Renfro - Take that bus apart. I want

an accurate body count. Poole - Set

up operations right here.

He stops and looks into the TV lights and starts moving

downtrack. The media and State Police move with him like

Israelites behind Moses.

GERARD:

Ladies and gentlemen... our

fugitive's been on the run for

ninety minutes. Average foot speed

over uneven ground - barring injury

is approximately four miles an hour,

giving us a radius of six miles. I

want a hard-target search of any

residence, gas station, farmhouse,

henhouse, doghouse and outhouse in

that area. Check-points go up at

15 miles.

(to media)

You got that? Good. Now, turn

those damn things off and get out

of our way.

INT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT

ROARS... just above the treetops. Helicopter speeds up a

dark river. Its tracking beam illuminates the river bank.

EXT. RURAL ROADS - NIGHT

Flashing lights. Two highway patrol cars set up roadblocks.

The SQUAWK of police RADIOS breaks the rural quiet. A moment

later a HELICOPTER ROARS overhead.

EXT. TRACKS - NIGHT

Kimble moves down train tracks. His jumpsuit is wet with

blood from the gash. He pauses and checks the wound. He's

going to need stitches.

Far down the tracks he sees glow of town lights. He keeps

moving.

EXT. TRESTLE - DAWN

Kimble crosses a tressel, keeps running toward the direction

of the lights.

A junk yard by railroad tracks and a road. Signs along the

road show we're on the edge of town. One says: Hospital-1/2

mile.

ANGLE - TRACKS AND STREAM

Kimble runs from a streak up to the railroad tracks. As he

nears the junk yard and road he sees the hospital sign.

He's close but he can't go into the hospital in his prison

jumpsuit. He leans against a wrecked car and catches his

breath.

Just then a tow truck pulling a car on its hook, turns off

the road and parks next to the tracks. Kimble ducks for

cover behind the wrecked car.

The driver climbs out, dumps his coveralls in the front

seat and closes the door.

He moves toward a house across the tracks, then forgets

something and returns to the cab. He throws open the door

and grabs lunch box off the seat - and we notice the

coveralls missing from the seat.

As the driver returns to the house we MOVE TO the opposite

side of the car to find Kimble, ducked beneath the window,

clutching the coveralls.

EXT. CRASH SITE - DAWN

A crude headquarters is set up beneath a tent, near the

crash site. Maps are laid out on tables. Power and phone

lines are pulled down from the lines running along the

tracks. Renfro supervises the electronics.

Poole handles phones, takes a report from the field and

relays it to Gerard.

POOLE:

Blood trail found. Two miles

southwest.

GERARD:

(to Biggs)

Type it and match it against all

four prisoners.

(to Renfro)

Renfro, get an I.D. fax on Kimble to

every local hospital.

(to Newman)

Newman...

Newman appears.

NEWMAN:

Yes, sir...

GERARD:

I need some coffee.

As Newman steps off, everyone turns at sound of SHOUTING

from the train crash.

ANGLE - TRAIN CRASH

A RESCUE WORKER shouts up to others.

WORKER:

Hey, one's alive!

EXT. RURAL HOSPITAL - LOADING DOCK - MORNING

Loading dock outside the E.R. A WORKER stacks boxes of food

outside kitchen entrance. Kimble, in the tow truck

operator's coveralls, picks up a box and carries it inside.

Once inside he branches off down a hallway.

INT. RURAL HOSPITAL - HALLWAY - MORNING

A door opens on a long hallway. A DOCTOR, CHILD with a

bandaged hand, and a MOTHER leave a room and walk TOWARD us.

Behind them, Kimble moves down the hall and stops in front

of the doorway.

KIMBLE'S POV - MINOR PROCEDURES ROOM

CUT TO:

INT. RURAL HOSPITAL - MINOR PROCEDURES ROOM - MORNING

Kimble closes the door and locks it. Hanging on the back of

the door we see a doctor's white coat.

CUT TO:

EXT. HOSPITAL - MORNING

An Illinois State Trooper's car pulls up outside.

CUT TO:

CLOTH-COVERED INSTRUMENT TRAY

On it we see:
A packaged sterilized bandage, an opened

antiseptic wash, an opened topical anesthetic, and an empty

syringe. We PULL BACK to find:

KIMBLE:

His wound bathed in orange antiseptic wash, three stitches

already in. With pair of forceps he picks up the needle as

he sutures himself.

CUT TO:

INT. HOSPITAL HALLWAY - LONG SHOT (MOS) - MORNING

At far end of the hall we see a STATE TROPER chatting with a

DUTY NURSE at a nurses' station.

CUT TO:

INT. PROCEDURE'S ROOM - MORNING

Kimble, his bandage already in place, gives himself a shot

of antibiotics.

CUT TO:

INT. HOSPITAL - MAN'S ROOM - DAY

A man, tube in nose, on two I.V.s, lays in bed with eyes

closed. Kimble comes INTO FRAME near his face.

KIMBLE:

Can you hear me, sir?

No response. The man is out of it. Kimble backtracks to the

patient's closet and opens it. Hanging inside we see his

clothes. He removes them and notices the man's untouched

breakfast tray.

CUT TO:

INT. RURAL HOSPITAL - NURSES' DUTY STATION - DAY

The Duty Nurse and State Trooper chat when a fax begins

coming through on DESK FAX.

NURSE:

There's your fax...

CUT TO:

INT. PATIENT'S BATHROOM - DAY

Kimble dressing in the man's clothes. He eats a piece of

toast - part of the man's breakfast - as he buttons up his

shirt.

ANGLE - PATIENT

His arm slowly reaches out and presses his nurses call

button.

CUT TO:

INT. NURSES' STATION - DAY

A fax photograph of Richard Kimble slowly comes off the

duty station FAX MACHINE. Next to the machine the

patient's call light comes on.

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