Tremors 3: Back to Perfection Page #4

You got me into this.

All right!

Whoo!

Use the door!

It's unbelievable!

Frank! Charlie!

It's unbelievable!

Unbelievable!

I was, uh,

I was doing cores...

out where they recorded

the earliest graboid movements.

- Uh-huh.

- Voila!

I hit this on my third dig.

It's an egg. I've proven

they come from eggs.

I've already carbon-dated it.

The yolk remains are current,

but the shell

is over 300 years old.

Current graboids

must have come from these.

They lay dormant

for 300 years?

It appears so. I-I need to use

your phone. I must call the museum.

I'll give you

50 bucks for that.

Are you kidding? It's going

straight to the Smithsonian.

All right, all right,

a hundred!

Somebody getting married?

First, we make enough noise

to move one in close,

then we use the remote-controlled

truck as bait.

Damn Feds,

I told them to butt out!

No, I think that's somebody else.

Well, Burt.

Long time no see.

Looking good.

Hard core as ever.

- Melvin?

- It's Mel, actually.

How come you never

answer our letters?

How come I gotta drive

all the way out here?

"Perfection Valley Ranchettes. "

That's you?

You said I'd never

amount to anything.

Look, uh, Burt, we're making

some really good deals here.

Between you and me...

you know, 'cause we're friends...

we're gonna offer you twice

what we're offering the other people.

What the hell are you doing?

You grew up here.

Exactly. I wouldn't wish

this place on anybody.

So, come on, Burt,

what do you say?

I'd say, "I'll give you

a ten-second head start. "

People are folding, Burt, and I

got this whole county in my pocket.

You can't hold out

forever.

I was born to hold out.

Uh, Burt, is this bad?

It's, uh, it's kinda bad here.

Is this bad?

It's, uh...

Graboid. One of them spotted us.

Freeze! Everybody, quiet!

- A graboid?

- Quiet!

- Are you kidding?

- Shh!

For real?

Burt!

Burt, hang on!

Hang on, Burt!

Burt!

Hey, Burt, hang on.

I'll get a rope.

Yeah.

Houston, we have a problem.

- Burt?

- Affirmative.

Are you, uh,

are you okay?

Not much time.

Only got limited air. What's my 20?

Uh, well, hold on.

Hold on.

Well, you're about

a quarter mile west...

No, better make that

east of me.

Couple of miles from my place,

engage the graboid.

- What?

- Drive like hell and lead the bastard to my front gate.

- Copy?

- Yeah, I copy, but-but, uh...

Out of air.

Burt out.

Burt! Burt, what do

I do when I get there?

What do I do?

Burt! Burt!

Come on, graboid, graboid.

Come on, baby, come on!

Come on, baby.

We are runnin'

with the graboid.

Oh! Oh!

Holy sh*t!

Head-on collision.

Burt! Burt!

Burt, are you down there?

Burt, hang on, hang on.

I'll be right there.

Hold on, buddy!

Hang on, buddy!

Just breathe!

Breathe!

Come on, baby!

Hang on, buddy!

Hang on!

Jack! That Melvin guy

said you got attacked!

What the hell

are you doing?

I'd prefer...

we keep this...

to ourselves.

Oh, y-you guys definitely

need to be supervised.

Burt here.

You read me? Come back.

Yo, come back.

Burt here. Come back!

Is that a graboid?

Yeah, but we should be

seeing two of them.

Have either of you

heard from the Feds?

- I can't raise 'em.

- Not since this morning.

I guess they've gone out of radio range.

They were chasing a graboid.

They were chasing it? It wasn't

chasing them? I don't like that.

So, maybe they scared it.

Jesus, what is that?

Dr. Merliss,

what happened?

We found the graboid.

On the surface.

It was... It was...

Hollow. Split open.

Yeah, split open.

Split open.

Wh-When we examined it,

the sound.

I heard this...

this screaming.

And then they were all around us.

S- So fast!

Rusk and Statler...

torn to pieces!

I- I hid in my van,

but they were ripping it apart.

I remembered something:

Don't-Don't let them see body heat.

So...

I sprayed myself.

It's cold.

It's so cold.

That was good. That was

good thinkin'. Good thinkin'.

It's not...

entirely effective,

I'm afraid.

Oh, my madre!

Nancy, Mindy,

Burt here. Come back.

Yeah, Burt. We're up on Chang's roof.

Is the graboid still

sneaking around somewhere?

We've got a bigger problem now.

- Squealers?

- No, screechers.

Shriekers. The government team

have all been killed.

- Oh, my God.

- Listen carefully.

These sons of b*tches don't hunt

by sound. They see heat...

with sensor organs

on their heads.

You've gotta hide

your body heat somehow. Copy.

Hide our body heat?

Uh, Burt, we copy.

Can't track shriekers

with geophones,

so now I'm rigged to download

infrared satellite images.

Now when shriekers first emerge,

there are only six of them.

If we can kill them before they find

food and multiply, we have a chance.

Okay, here we go. Here we go.

Preston Dry Lake. Jeep trail.

There we are. That's our cars, right?

Reading the engine heat.

Bingo. We have a visual.

Two, four.

There are seven of them.

You mean they're already

making more of themselves?

Yeah, they munched on Statler and Rusk.

We better get moving.

I totally hate my life.

Damn, I still

don't see them.

- How do you focus these things?

- Here, try these.

Hey, fellas. Better get that

satellite thing again.

- We got you covered.

- That's it, right there.

- Yeah.

- Holy... There's eight of'em.

Eight?

What the hell are they eating?

Coyotes, lizards, snakes.

They don't care.

So this is

really serious.

I keep trying to tell you people!

How far are your cattle?

If they get to your herd,

we're in big trouble.

Burt, look!

Look there.

They're going into

that box canyon over there.

- Come on!

- There's only one way out of there.

- If we get there before they leave...

- I'm with you.

We just roll in and mop

those little devils up.

Graboids!

- Go! Go!

- Come on! Come on!

Miguel!

Oh, my...

Where the hell...

Es blanco.

Holy sh*t. I've never seen one...

a live one of them.

Holy sh*t!

What do we do now?

Radio Nancy and Mindy to call

for some kind of help.

Damn thing tried to eat my jeep.

What the hell's

it thinking?

You left your engine running.

He went for the noise.

Haven't you read the graboid comics?

It's all in there.

Freakin' slug.

I owe money on that thing.

Jack, you got

your walkie?

It's in my jeep.

Where's yours?

On my hood.

Well, I guess

we just wait.

Darn! Oh, man!

Jeez!

Are you remotely worried

that the shriekers might get out...

and go eat Miguel's cattle, and,

I don't know, the rest of Nevada?

Absolutely.

But "I do not dwell on that...

- over which I have no control. "

- That's great.

- I have to do all the "dwelling. "

- If you choose to.

You know what I've found?

Most people prefer your dramatic

cumulo and nimbus clouds.

But I've always had

a weakness for a cirrus.

Yeah. Wispy, and way

up there, you know?

I wouldn't know.

Well, don't you

ever look up?

- I'm busy.

- Too busy to look up?

Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am.

I'm working for myself here.

All right? I could have

stayed in San Francisco,

parleyed my M.B.A. into

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