The Hitcher Page #3

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No prison record,

no driver's license...

no birth certificate.

We ran his prints

through the computers...

and we came up with nothin'.

I know we'll find something, but

right now, I don't even know his name.

How do you feel?

Tired.

He can't see us or hear us.

I want to talk to him.

What's your name?

Come on.

Come on.

What's your name?

Do you have a name?

John Ryder.

What'd you say?

His name is John Ryder.

Do you have a police record?

Where are you from?

Disneyland.

How long do we

have to play this game?

Y'all give me a minute?

Come on.

All right, that's enough of that.

It was a bad idea in the first place.

Captain Esteridge,

is it true that...

No comment.

All right, son.

Get in the car.

Are you okay?

You'll never hold him.

All right, you listen up now,

and you listen good, son.

There's something strange between you.

I don't want to know what it is.

But I'm telling you,

he is in our hands now...

and whatever happens to him,

it won't be decided by you.

It doesn't have anything

to do with you anymore.

Okay?

Can I have one of your cigarettes?

Sure.

Stop the car.

You're not gonna use that thing.

Stop the car,

and don't do anything stupid.

All right.

What's on your mind?

Get out.

You're gonna get yourself killed.

And if you don't, you're gonna be

in a whole lot of trouble.

I'm sorry, sir.

- It's something I gotta do.

- You don't know what you're doin'.

Yeah...

I do.

Hi, kid.

Come on.

Come on!

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