Total Recall Page #29

INT. SHOP

Hicks enters, surveys the wreckage of display cases, scattered 21st

century consumer toys.

He finds five cocoons at the read of the shop.

INT. THE MALL

LONG on the shop. Beat. SOUND of five rounds from the pulse-rifle. With

the last shot, the neon flicker dies. Muzak stops.

Hicks emerges, continues across the Mall.

Arrives at the elevator-like entrance to the mini-subway, punches in

his destination ("OPS" lights up in red). Muffled SOUND of the breaking

car; the door HISSES open -- on Spence, both hands white-knuckled on

the loop of a hanger-strap, the car an abattoir, red with the blood of

Transformation. Shredded clothing and rags of flesh.

HICKS Spence...

She screams.

INT. OPS ROOM

Rosetti and Jackson are hunched over the screens as Hicks enters with

Spence over his shoulder, brushing past two nervous Marines at the

door. Bishop is making calculations on a console in the b.g. Hicks

eases Spence down into a chair.

JACKSON Revised ETA fro the Kansas City's another thirteen hours...

HICKS (yanking Rosetti aroundin his chair) Things don't look so sh*t

hot out there right now, Rosetti. What about rigging the fusion

package?

ROSETTI (to Jackson; ignoring Hicks) Sound the general alert, routine

lifeboat drill...

HICKS A general f***ing alert? Lifeboat drill? Who the hell you think's

gonna be left to pick up? I say we do the fusion package now!

JACKSON (wearily; without looking up from her screen) Hicks, you took

out the scrubber, the main air- scrubber. Pretty soon there isn't

going to be anything to breathe in here. We'd by okay for about five

days, except you also started an electrical fire and we got no way to

put it out. The crew's down to one-twenty-eight.

HICKS (stunned) More than half...?

JACKSON That's what I said. HICKS And you haven't rigged the place to

blow?

JACKSON (glances at Rosetti) No.

ROSETTI (as if noticing him for the first time) You'll lead the group

from this sector, Hicks. At the alert, they'll gather at blue assembly

points. Proceed to the nearest lifeboat bay...

BISHOP (approaching Rosetti with a single sheet of printout) Colonel,

my analysis indicates that a minimum of one fifth of the one hundred

and twenty- eight remaining crew are already incubating the --

ROSETTI (on the edge of hysteria) Listen to me, you motherless zombie!

Those are people! Can't you understand that? And we're going to get

them out!

BISHOP Yes, Colonel, I...

ROSETTI (to Hicks) You have your orders!

HICKS I don't leave here until Jackson sets it to blow, Rosetti. Got

that? Kansas City shows up, maybe there's nobody left for them to pick

up. Then what? They'll send a boarding party in here!

JACKSON I can't. The fusion package is under the scrubber, Hicks. You

trashed the wiring, man. That's where the fire is. Those lines. I can't

link through. I can't set it.

BISHOP I'll go; I'll get it manually.

HICKS I'll go with you.

BISHOP No. Assist with the... (glances down at the figures on the sheet

of printout) The evacuation.

JACKSON (to Rosetti) You just want to get your own ass out of here,

don't you? They couldn't have done this without you approval, could

they?

SPENCE Hick!

As one of the Marine guards stumbles forward, dropping his weapon,

hands upraised in claws of agony --

MARINE Please, I...

He trips, fall across Jackson's console and the barrel of Hick's gun --

as half a dozen New Model Chest-bursters erupt simultaneously from his

torso in a spray of blood. Hicks bellow, jumps back, grabbing Spence.

The chest bursters tumble from the body of the dead Marine, scuttle

into the shadows; one leaves a trail of small bloody prints across

Jackson's keyboard.

HICKS Out! Out of here!

INT. CORRIDOR

Hicks, Spence, Bishop, Rosetti, Jackson, and the remaining Marine guard

hustle along, Hicks and Bishop bringing up the rear. Rosetti carries

the dead Marine's pulse-rifle. Bishop touches Hick's shoulder as they

reach the intersection.

BISHOP I'll try to give you an hour. Overload at twenty-two hundred.

HICKS (quietly; doesn't want the others to hear) Blow it. That's what

matters.

EXTREME CLOSEUP on Hick's watch as her set the alarm for 2200 hours.

BISHOP Yes.

Bishop splits off, down another corridor, running.

INT. LIFEBOAT ASSEMBLY POINT

Another intersection of corridors. A pathetic remnant of Anchorpoint's

crew cluster beneath a flashing blue light. A dozen people, including

HALLIDAY, a woman Spence's age; TATSUMI (male Japanese); a LAB TECH

(male).

ROSETTI Where are the others? There should be thirty people here...

HALLIDAY (dazed and confused) I can't find Tom. What is it? What's

going on? He was just here. I mean there. But then...

JACKSON Forget it, he's probably already on the boat. You know him,

right? C'mon, we're getting out of here ourselves...

Hicks pulls a service automatic from his vest and slips it to Jackson.

HICKS (under his breath) Keep an eye on everybody, okay, Ops?

JACKSON (to the others) Okay! You all know the Goddamn drill! Done it

often enough, right? We're taking A-52 to Blue Concourse. We stick

together. We'll meet up with two others groups at Bay Five and proceed

to board...

TATSUMI What is happening, please?

JACKSON What's happening is we're getting on the boats! Move!

INT. THE MALL

Dense haze of smoke from burning insulation; half the lights are out. A

body floats face down in the pool at the foot of the waterfall; the

pool is overflowing, splashing on polished concrete. Bishop emerges

from a doorway and hurries along toward the freight elevator. He

freezes. Hears something else. Moves quietly in the direction of the

SOUND. The bar. He peers into the wreckage. Four Aliens are at work,

cocooning their prey. Cocooned bodies -- CLOSE on the face of Shuman -

- have been glued to the big screen, where silent images of the soccer

game repeat endlessly. Bishop stares, then turns -- looks up.

A Queen. The thing towers above him in the Mall, utterly still.

Beat.

He takes a step backward. Another.

The Queen's head sways.

Another step. He bolts for the elevator.

The Queen screams her rage, scrambles after him like a famished mantis.

He's reached the elevator -- stabs desperately at the controls -- as

the doors open and he's through, punching more buttons -- as the Queen

strikes, her first blow buckling the steel doors.

INT. FREIGHT ELEVATOR

Her huge stinger lashes in through the gap, whipping and slicing,

Bishop braced up straight in a corner, hand still on the controls. The

elevator GROANS,

SHUDDERS, begins to descend, then jams in the shaft. The stinger whips

back out. SOUND of rending metal as the Queen continues her attack.

INT. A CORRIDOR AT BULKHEAD HATCH

Jackson ducks through first, still wearing her Ops cap. Rosetti next,

then Spence, helping Halliday; the others follow, Hicks bringing up the

rear. Hicks pauses, looks back through the hatch. Hears a distant

CRASH, an inhuman cry. Takes a small bat of plastic explosive from his

vest and squashes it against the edge of the bulkhead. Pulls a grenade

from his harness, twists its neck in the delay-detonate combination,

sticks in into the plastique, closes the hatch, and runs.

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