The Terminator Page #13

He pauses as they slide around another corner.

CUT TO:

127 EXT. STREET - NIGHT 127

Reese's sedan glides out onto a main drag, very subdued.

He turns the lights on and blends with traffic.

The helicopter crosses laterally in the distance.

CUT TO:

128 INT. GREY SEDAN - NIGHT 128

REESE:

(continuing)

But outside, it's living

human tissue. Flesh, skin,

hair...blood. Grown for the

cyborgs.

SARAH:

Look, Reese, I know you want

to help, but...

REESE:

(cutting her off)

Pay attention. The 600

series had rubber skin.

We spotted them easy. But

these are new. They look

human. Sweat, bad breath,

everything. Very hard to

spot. I had to wait 'til

he moved on you before I

could zero him.

SARAH:

Hey, I'm not stupid, y'know.

They can't build anything like

that yet.

REESE:

No. Not yet. Not for about

forty years.

Reese is driving sedately for a low profile, but his eyes

rove constantly, searching for a place to ditch the car.

Sarah's eyes are alert as well, and her tone becomes a bit

too cool.

SARAH:

So, it's from the future, is

that right?

REESE:

One possible future. Four your

point of view. I don't know the

tech stuff.

SARAH:

And you're from the future too?

REESE:

Right.

They come to a red light and Reese stops.

SARAH:

(patronizingly)

Right...

Like a shot she unlatches the seatbelt, pulls the door lock

and has the door half open before Reese can react. He catches

her arm and hauls her struggling back into the car.

Sarah sinks her teeth into his hand with all her strength.

His grip doesn't slacken.

Slowly, without releasing her, he reaches across with his

other hand and shuts the door. His face shows no reaction.

Sarah draws back and stares at the blood running down his

arm from the bite, that at his grim, scarred face. The

light turns green and Reese drives on.

Sarah tastes blood and wipes her mouth.

REESE:

(coldly)

Cyborgs don't feel pain. I

do. Don't...do that...again.

He wipes his hand on his pants.

SARAH:

(weakly, plead-

ing)

Just let me go.

REESE:

(slow, but intense)

Listen. Understand. That

Terminator is out there. It

can't be reasoned with, it can't

be bargained with...it doesn't

feel pity of remorse or fear...

and it absolutely will not stop.

Ever. Until you are dead.

Sarah slump in utter resignation.

SARAH:

(quietly)

Can you stop it?

Reese doesn't look at her.

REESE:

Maybe. With these weapons...

I don't know.

CUT TO:

129 EXT. PARKING LOT - NIGHT 129

Reese's car turns into the parking lot of a large hospital,

acres of pavement dotted with sporadic parked cars.

CUT TO:

130 EXT./INT. TERMINATOR'S CRUISER - NIGHT 130

ANGLE THROUGH WINDSHIELD, ON TERMINATOR, as he searches.

Streetlights flare across rhythmically.

CUT TO:

131 EXT. POLICE HELICOPTER - NIGHT 131

It moves between two buildings, searchlight sweeping back

and forth. DOWN ANGLE, past the chopper, as the circle of

light moves across a row of parked cars.

It passes a grey sedan with a shattered windshield.

Flicks back. Holds.

TIGHTER ON CAR, GROUND LEVEL, in the glare and propwash.

It looks empty.

CUT TO:

132 EXT. PARKING LOT/NEARBY - NIGHT 132

LOW ANGLE DOLLY, MOVING WITH REESE AND SARAH as they crawl

behind a row of parked cars.

He has firm hold of her arm but she seems to be cooperating.

In the B.G., the chopper hovers, on the far side of the lot.

Reese approaches the door of a late model brown Buick which

has been left with its window partway down.

He unlocks it and they slip inside.

CUT TO:

133 EXT./INT. TERMINATOR'S CRUISER - NIGHT 133

TIGHT ON TERMINATOR, through the windshield of the black-

and-white.

DISPATCHER (V.O.)

(filtered)

Suspect vehicle located at

parking lot, Cedar and Glen-

haven...

FULL SHOT as Terminator's cruiser slews in a radical turn

and roars off in the opposite direction.

CUT TO:

134 INT./EXT. BROWN BUICK/PARKING LOT - NIGHT 134

Reese uses the butt of the shotgun to smash loose the

ignition assembly. He begins working on the wires. A

police cruiser appears, moving slowly between the rows of

cars.

Reese grabs Sarah and pulls her down to huddle below dash

level. A moment later a spotlight flashes across the seats

above them. They hear the helicopter circling closer.

SARAH:

Reese...why me? Why does

it want me?

They are lying very close, a forced intimacy. Reese's voice

is an urgent whisper, almost in her ear. A cruiser passes

so close they can hear its radio clearly.

REESE:

There's so much...

SARAH:

Tell me. Just start at the

beginning.

Reese musters his thoughts. And starts.

REESE:

There was a war. A few years

from now. Nuclear war. The

whole thing. All this--

His gesture includes the car, the city, the world.

REESE:

(continuing)

--everythingis gone. Just

gone. There were survivors.

Here. There. Nobody knew who

started it.

(pause)

It was the machines.

SARAH:

I don't understand...

REESE:

Defense network computer. New.

Powerful. Hooked into everything.

Trusted to run it all. They say it

got smart...a new order of intelli-

gence. Then it saw all people as

a threat, not just the ones on the

other side. Decided out fate in a

microsecond...extermination.

Reese pauses, and when he continues it's less like a military

briefing, quieter.

REESE:

(continuing)

Didn't see the war. I was born

after, in the ruins. Grew up

there. Starving. Hiding from

the H-K's.

SARAH:

The what?

REESE:

Hunter Killers. Patrol machines.

Build in automated factories.

Most of us were rounded up, put in

camps...for orderly disposal.

He pushes up the sleeve of his jacket and shows

her a ten digit number etches on the skin of his forearm.

Beneath the numbers is a pattern of lines like the auto-

matic-pricing marks on product packages.

REESE:

(continuing)

Burned in by laser scan.

(pause)

Some of us were kept alive...

to work. Loading bodies. The

disposal units ran night and day.

We were that close to going out

forever...

The helicopter moves overhead. Its searchlight illum-

inates the car interior, moves on. Before the rotor

sound fads, Reese starts the car.

CUT TO:

135 EXT. PARKING LOT - NIGHT 135

Several black-and-whites are moving among the parked

cars, slowly.

ANGLE ON TERMINATOR'S CRUISER rolling along just above

idle. He peers into the row of cars, listening and

seeing on level we can't.

CUT TO:

136 INT. BROWN BUICK - NIGHT 136

Reese is holding onto Sarah's shoulder tightly.

REESE:

(continuing)

...but there was one man...who

taught us to fight. To storm

the wire of the camps. To

smash those metal mother-

f***ers into junk. He turned

it around...he brought us back

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