The Terminator Page #25

to react, reaching for the bomb, before it EXPLODES.

Sarah is pitched forward by the blast and slides on the

floor.

Slams up against one wall.

A withering spray of shrapnel strafes the walls around her.

Pieces of scrap metal clatter throughout the factory, rain-

ing down.

C.U. - SARAH, very still. She winces and opens her eyes.

Slowly looks up.

POV - SARAH, as the smoke clears. The Terminator is GONE.

Unrecognizable clumps of BURNING DEBRIS lie scattered about.

Looking down through the grating floor she sees Kyle's

body.

LOW ANGLE ON KYLE F.G., Sarah on catwalk above. Kyle's eyes

are half-open. Still. His face peaceful.

ANGLE ON ONE OF THE FIRES climbing some plastic tubing and

triggering a SPRINKLER HEAD. It begins to rain.

C.U. - SARAH sitting up as the water runs over her.

She looks down. Protruding from her right thigh is a TWISTED

PIECE OF METAL. Shrapnel. Part of the cyborg. She pulls

it out, grimacing. Her leg is broken.

It is a long time before she can gather the will to move.

SARAH'S POV - She sees a WALL PHONE several yards away,

beyond the debris from the explosion.

She starts to crawl toward it.

She passes A LARGE CLUMP OF DEBRIS, F.G.

ANGLE ON DEBRIS (FX) as it rolls over suddenly!

Now recognizable as the TERMINATOR'S HEAD AND ARMS, with

half of the scattered torso trailing wires and twisted

metal.

IT LUNGES FOR HER!

Sarah wants to scream this time, from the depths of her

soul, but there is no scream, only a dry shivering sob.

The Terminator drags itself SCRAPING over the floor, steel

fingers clutching.

Sarah is shaking and whimpering as she scrabbles away,

crawling in agony.

ANGLE ON CONVEYOR BELT as Sarah flops from the catwalk

onto the MOVING STRIP. She is carried into the intricate

lattice of equipment. Sarah rolls off weakly before going

under a set of sorting rollers.

ANGLE THROUGH MACHINERY - ON THE TERMINATOR (FX) as it crawls

after her, dragging its body. It tracks her unerringly,

EYES GLOWING.

Sarah moves deeper into the DARK, CLASHING JUNGLE of machinery.

Around her is a rain-drenched tangle of CABLES, PIPES and

unforgiving mechanisms of steel.

The Terminator clambers through after her.

C.U. - SARAH - Water pours into her eyes as she catches

sight of something. A familiar CONTROL BOX.

She drags herself toward it.

C.U. - THE TERMINATOR (FX) - It spots her wedged in a tiny

crawl space. No way out.

It crawls the last few feet,EYES RED IN THE DARK.

Hypnotized, Sarah watches the Terminator REACHING TOWARD HER.

She is jammed in a corner.

Sarah's hand claws around to the front of the control panel,

seeking the RED BUTTON.

E.C.U. - HER WET FINGERTIPS FEEL THE BUTTON.

ANGLE ON THE TERMINATOR (FX), his steel hand reaching out.

E.C.U. - SARAH, her face inexplicably calm, eyes steady in

that infinite instant. She clenches her teeth to keep

from screaming as she WAITS.

The Terminator's hand reaches for her throat to crush

the life out of her and end its long mission.

SARAH:

(voice icy)

You're...terminated...f***er!

E.C.U. - BUTTON, as her bloody finger stabs it down.

FULL SHOT, showing how the cyborg has been led into the

MAW OF THE HYDRAULIC PRESS.

THE STAMPING PLATE THUNDERS DOWN!

Tons of mechanical pressure flatten the Terminator's head

and body like tin-foil. The PRESS SCREAMS, jamming solid.

Lightning snaps out in one brief blaze, leaping to surround-

ing machinery, arcing to Sarah's wristwatch. All the

Terminator's energy is released in one second.

ANGLE on the narrow gap between the upper and lower plates:

a pinpoint of red light DWINDLES AND GOES OUT.

TIGHT ON SARAH, shivering uncontrollably. The steel fingers

are frozen an inch from her throat. She can only stare as

water runs over her.

CUT TO:

257 INT. FACTORY - DAWN 257

CLOSE ON the side rail of an ambulance gurney SNAPPING UP

into position. Sarah's eyes are closed and she is moved

OUT OF FRAME.

WIDE SHOT, showing the gurney being rolled by TWO ATTENDANTS

past the site of the last explosion.

SEVERAL POLICE OFFICERS are picking through the debris.

PANNING WITH THE GURNEY as it is wheeled out, holding on

TWO FACTORY EMPLOYEES, F.G.

One, the PLANT MANAGER, bends to examine a piece of the

cyborg lying at the base of the hydraulic press.

A COP, B.G., notices this.

COP:

Look, I told you not to

touch anything until we're

done. You got that?

MANAGER:

Sure thing, officer.

He stands and palms a small object to HIS ASSISTANT. They

step around the corner.

ASSISTANT:

What is it?

MANAGER:

Microcomputer chassis. But

I've never seen stuff like

this anywhere.

ASSISTANT:

Weird. Jap stuff, maybe?

MANAGER:

Keep it out of sight and

get it down to R and D

Monday, first thing.

ASSISTANT:

Good idea.

CUT TO:

258 EXT. BUILDING - DAWN 258

Sarah is being lifted into the ambulance. She looks

up as the doors are latched shut.

TILT UP to follow her gaze.

The sign above the entrance of the building reads:

CYBER DYNAMICS CORPORATION

SLOW DISSOLVE TO:

259 INT./EXT. LANDROVER - LATE AFTERNOON 259

MACRO ON CASSETTE RECORDER, the center capstans of a

tape turning.

SARAH (V.O.)

...and the hardest thing is

deciding what I should tell

you and what not to. Well,

anyway, I've got a while yet

before you're old enough to

understand the tapes. They're

more for me at this point...

to help get it all straight.

COVER SHOT reveals Sarah as the wheel of a dusty landrover

parked at the pump island of a tiny gas station. All of

its signs are in hand-lettered Spanish. Beyond lies an

expanse of scrub desert. The sky scowls with an impending

storm.

Sarah speaks quietly into a hand microphone as a dark-

complected attendant laconically fills her tank. She

cradles the cassette recorder in her lap, in the lee of

her SWOLLEN BELLY.

She looks to be about SIX MONTHS ALONG.

Under her down vest she wears a leather shoulder holster

and the butt of a .357 REVOLVER presses against her

breast. She tugs the vest closed as the attendant glances

her way. A German Shepherd sits in the back among taped

boxes and suitcases.

SARAH:

(continuing)

Should I tell you about your

father? That's a tough one.

Will it change your decision

to send him here...knowing?

But if you don't send Kyle,

you could never be. God,

you can go crazy thinking

about all this...I suppose

I'll tell you...I owe him that.

And maybe it'll be enough if

you know that in the few hours

we had together we loved a

lifetime's worth...

CLICK. WHIR. Sarah jumps at a sound nearby, breaking

her reverie. A small MEXICAN BOY has snapped her picture

with a beat-up Polaroid camera. He holds it out to her,

speaking rapid Spanish.

ATTENDANT:

He says you are very beautiful,

Senora, and he is ashamed to ask

five American dollars for this

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