Tremors: A Cold Day in Hell Page #5

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of a kill zone and no way out?

(WIND HOWLING)

(RUMBLING)

Everybody freeze!

(RUMBLING STOPS)

(RATTLING)

(WHISPERS) Valerie.

(WHISPERING)

I think it's leaving.

No.

It's caught wind of

another vibration.

Something's moving.

Or someone.

(SHUSHES)

I can't find Dr. Ferezze

in the bunkhouse.

That cheese-dick

gone AWOL again?

Oh!

Jeez.

Dr. Ferezze!

BURT:
Hart, no!

Back here! Don't follow

stupid with stupid.

Dr. Ferezze!

Come back, Dr. Ferezze!

(PANTING)

Dr. Ferezze,

where are you going?

Anywhere but here!

Just calm down and think,

Dr. Ferezze.

There's nowhere

for you to go!

I'll take my chances.

- Hart!

- Here it comes!

Dr. Ferezze!

Please, don't do this!

Don't start the car!

- Please!

- Adis, amigo.

Dr. Ferezze!

Sh*t!

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(CREATURE SNARLS)

Damn, I don't have a shot!

(SCREAMING)

Dr. Ferezze!

(SCREAMING)

Inside! Everyone, now!

Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!

This sh*t just got real!

I can't believe what that thing did

to Dr. Ferezze.

They just came out of hibernation and,

based on their body mass index,

those creatures

need to eat a lot.

- How many are there?

- It's impossible to tell...

without my

seismic vibration monitor.

Well, we can't stay here.

Copy that. We've got weapons,

but not enough for these bad boys.

The bigger the problem,

the bigger the hammer.

Yeah? What've you got

in mind?

There's a couple of cases

of dynamite in the hangar.

Petrol, tools,

bear bangers, odds and ends.

There's enough stuff to MacGyver

a bomb we can stuff down their throats!

Sounds like that's our FOB.

One problem.

The hangar's got a compacted

chip-stone floor.

Oh, come on, man.

They're gonna be like

sand sharks

bobbing for apples.

Yeah, and we'll be

the Granny Smiths.

This floor is 1.2 meters

above the ground,

supported by

a steel substructure.

Those things won't be able

to knock this place down.

Yeah, but it's only

a matter of time

before they come blasting through

the floor and eat our lunch.

I've got an idea.

The generator's in the hangar, right?

Yeah. Triple-phase power,

63-amp cables.

According to

these blueprints,

this hangar's got

a deep-pile foundation.

Yeah, steel caissons going

directly into the bedrock.

Drilled it myself.

You think you can re-route

the power so it goes to the steel caissons?

Are you saying

what I'm thinking?

What are you thinking

I'm saying?

I'm thinking that you're saying that

we shoot a dose of milliamps

straight into the groundwater

and create some kind of...

- Underground electrical fence.

- Exactly.

That's exactly what I'm saying

you're thinking. Can you do it?

I've done more with less.

Yeah, but if

it doesn't work, we die.

So what the hell, Burt?

Have you ever nailed Jell-O to a wall?

I'm not sure

how that's relevant.

It's relevant

because I did it.

And guess what? It stuck.

You know why?

Because everyone said I couldn't.

All right, I got it.

I got it!

And we've got a plan.

We're off to the hangar.

Teams of two.

Travis, you, and Dr. Sims.

Swackhamer, you're with me.

Wingman, we're gonna need

a diversion!

I'm on it.

I'm gonna pretend

I didn't just hear you leave me out

because I'm coming

on this worm hunt.

Elk hunter, huh?

Think you can bang on this short arm?

Piece of cake. You zero that scope

for distance or dangerous game?

- What do you think?

- Stupid question.

Mind if I tweak it for

my preferred point of impact?

Dad and I always zeroed our scopes

at 2.5 inches high at 100 yards.

Well, whatever floats your boat.

You're on overwatch.

Take Vargas and go on the roof.

Roger that.

And hold on tight, huh?

She'll kick some!

Got you.

The gun or Vargas?

You feel up for this, old man?

I'm fine.

You make ready.

Okay, you ready, Dr. Sims?

Oh, sh*t.

Look what the cat dragged in.

- Oh, good. You're here.

- Mr. Cutts.

I just lost my top scientist

at the Meltwater Hot Springs.

You just got in over your head

and had to punt, huh?

Your experiment's run amok.

My experiment?

What, you think I'm actually

controlling these...

Yeah, but of course you would.

Your psych eval suggested as much.

You had me profiled?

I'm sorry to disappoint you,

but this is not the Island of Dr. Moreau.

I'm not some kind of walking

ethical dumpster fire.

My mission here

is more elevated than that.

Oh, yes. No DARPA skunk

works in the hopper, huh?

No bio-engineering perhaps?

A little Graboid gene-splicing?

You know, that's a good idea,

but bio-weapons are not my thing.

I'm here with an engineering team

to assess the purity

of the groundwater

and to design an aquifer to move it out

of the Arctic and into civilization.

This is about water?

Water is the new oil,

and, as you may have noticed,

the Arctic has it

in abundance now.

It took just

one of those creatures

less than a minute to kill

my best scientist.

(CREATURE GROWLS)

(THUDDING)

Nobody move! Nobody move.

(SHUSHING)

(RUMBLING)

BURT:

It's under the floor.

Don't move.

Shh!

Let me unload.

All right.

Fire at will!

BURT:
Yes!

(SCREAMING)

(SNARLING)

(GROANING)

Help! Help me!

Here!

Help me! Help me!

(GROANING)

All right. Let's scoot

and shoot!

What about us?

Find high ground,

solid ground,

and whatever you do,

don't move!

BURT:
North Star One

to North Star Hangar.

We are coming your way. Over.

Roger that, Mr. Gummer.

Sounds like

you stepped in it up there.

Affirmative. Time to dig in,

work together. Over.

Is it a hunting party?

Sure as hell

ain't no pony show!

All right, look,

I'm gonna lead it away from here.

When I do, run!

Yeah!

Like a dog to a bone!

Bio-mechanics are so sexy!

(GRUNTING)

(ROARING)

To the hangar!

Come on!

(CREATURE ROARING)

Incoming! Three o'clock!

Oh, sh*t! Not another one!

The truck!

- Swackhamer, get up!

- Yeah.

Come on! In the truck!

Come on!

That thing's got me

by the pants!

So take off your pants!

100% no!

- Take off your pants, Rita!

- No!

- Take them off now, goddammit!

- No!

- Why?

- I'm not wearing any underwear!

(CREATURE GROWLS)

(BOTH CHUCKLE)

You're going commando

in the Arctic?

I don't wear underwear.

It's too restricting.

- I think I love!

- Yeah?

- Hey, Hart?

- Yeah?

How many of those

energy drinks did you have today?

(CREATURE SNARLING)

Six, maybe seven.

I mean, could be eight.

Get ready to run, Wingman.

We're executing

Diversion Tactic Two.

Okay, Hart. Time to take one

for the team.

Free Willy

and let the big dog eat.

Seriously?

You want me to drop trou?

Don't question my orders!

Now, you take out that disco stick,

and let it dance!

Okay. Don't anybody look.

Dude! We have bigger worms

to worry about!

Get ready to redeploy!

That boy's got game!

Fire at will!

(CREATURE ROARS)

- Preferably today!

- I'm trying!

Oh, come on! If you're gonna

piss like a puppy, stay on the porch.

(LAUGHING)

I'm no puppy, Mr. Gummer.

I'll tell you that.

Gonna build me an ark!

We're clear to the hangar.

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