>> II/ Jurassic Park II

II/ Jurassic Park II

: II/ Jurassic Park II.

II/ Jurassic Park II


A 135-foot-luxury yacht is anchored just offshore in a tropical lagoon. The beach is a stunning crescent of white sand at the jungle fringe, utterly deserted.

ISLA SORNA 87 miles southeast of Nublar

Two SHIP HANDS, dressed in white uniforms, have set up a picnic table with three chairs on the sand and are carefully laying out luncheon service -- fine china, silver, crystal decanters with red and white wine.

PAUL BOWMAN, fortyish, sits in a chair off to the side, reading. MRS. BOWMAN, painfully thin, with the perpetually surprised look of a woman who's had her eyes done more than once, supervises the settings of the table.

She looks up and sees a little girl, CATHY, seven or eight years old, wandering off down the beach.

MRS. BOWMAN Cathy! Don't wander off!

Cathy keeps wandering.

MRS. BOWMAN (cont'd) Cathy, come back! You can look for shells right here!

Cathy gestures, pretending she can't hear.

BOWMAN (eyes still in his book) Leave her alone.

MRS. BOWMAN What about snakes?

BOWMAN There's no snakes on a beach. Let her have fun, for once.


Cathy keeps wandering away, MUTTERING to herself as her parents' quarreling voices fade in the distance.

CATHY Please be quiet, please be quiet please be quiet...

Rounding a curve in the beach, her parents disappear from view behind her. A RUSTLING sound draws her attention, and she turns, toward where the thick jungle foliage gives way to the sand.

A large bush, maybe twelve feet tall, is moving, its branches swaying and shaking. Curious, Cathy walks up to the bush, which abruptly stops moving.

A small, lizard-like animal, dark green with brown stripes along its back, steps out from the bush. Only about a foot tall, it stands on its hind legs, balancing on its thick tail. It walks upright, bobbing its head like a chicken.

CATHY Well, hello there!

The animal (a COMPSOGNATHUS) just stares at her. Cathy squats down on her haunches.

CATHY (cont'd) What are you? A little bird or something?

She opens her hand. She's got a handful of goldfish crackers.

CATHY (cont'd) Are you hungry? You want a goldfish?

The compy bobs forward a few steps, cautiously.

CATHY (cont'd) Come on. I won't hurt you.

The compy draws closer. Cathy holds the cracker in the palm of her hand. The compy gets closer still --

-- and hops numbly up onto Cathy's palm. Her arm dips a bit under the weight, but it's not that heavy, and she holds it up easily. It bobs its head, scarfs up the goldfish, and eats it.

Enchanted, Cathy breaks into an enormous grin and returns her hand, calling back over her shoulder.

CATHY (cont'd) Mom! Dad! You gotta come see this! I found something!

She turns back.

Thirty more compys have come out onto the sand. They're standing there, bobbing anxiously, staring at her from a few feet away. Cathy's smile fades.

She turns her head slowly to the right. TWENTY MORE COMPYS have come in from that side, forming a semi-circle, bobbing and CHIPPING as they surround her.

CATHY (cont'd) (terrified) What do you guys want?


the table is set. Mrs. Bowman calls out.

MRS. BOWMAN Cathy, sweetheart! Lunch is ready!

From around the curve of the beach, a flock of birds bolts from the jungle trees as Cathy's shrill SCREAMS suddenly pierce the air.


She takes off, running down the beach, Mr. Bowman leaps out of his chair and follows, and all available deck hands race off to help, kicking up geysers of sand behind them.


Mrs. Bowman stops dead in her tracks when she rounds the bend in the beach. We don't see what she sees, but we hear the frenzied SQUEAKING of the strange compys. Mr. Bowman and the Hands race past her to help Cathy as Mrs. Bowman lets loose a horrified, slack-jawed SCREAM, her mouth a perfect oval.



Mrs. Bowman's screaming face dissolves slowly over the YAWNING face of a bored CORPORATE EXECUTIVE, TWENTY OTHER EXECUTIVES sit around a conference table in the boardroom of a monied corporation. All are in expensive suits, most are over sixty. There are rows of BACKBENCHERS too, whispering in their lawyers who sit behind their clients, whispering in their ears. Empty coffee cups and fast food containers on the table hint that everyone's been here a long time.

A familiar VOICE resounds through the boardroom as we move down the long table, pat the grim faces of the board members.

VOICE (O.S.) The hurricane seemed like a disaster at the time, but now I think it was a blessing, nature's way of freeing those animals from their human confines. Of giving them another chance to survive, but this time as they were meant to, without man's interference.

The source of the voice is JOHN HAMMOND, the founder of InGen and creator of Jurassic Park. But he's not in the room. His image is on a closed circuit TV screen, which has been wheeled up to the end of the table.

And he doesn't look good. He's terribly infirmed, propped up in bed, his face pale and drawn, medical equipment BEEPING around him.

HAMMOND (cont'd) There are some corporate issues that are not about the bottom line. We have so much still to learn about those creatures. A whole world of intricate, interlocking behaviors, vanished everywhere -- except for Site B. Please. Let's not do what is good for more men at the expense at what is best for all mankind.

The CHAIRMAN, seventyish, nods awkwardly to the television.

CHAIRMAN Thank you, John. Mr. Ludlow?

He turns to PETER LUDLOW, late thirties, a man with the anxious look of someone who insists the buck stop on his desk. Ludlow flips open a file, pulls out a stack of black and white eight by tens, and tosses them on the table.

LUDLOW (an accent similar to Hammond's) These pictures were taken in a hospital in Costa Rica forty-eight hours ago, after an American family on a yacht cruise stumbled onto Site B. The little girl will be fine, but her parents are wealthy, angry, and very fond of lawsuits. But that's hardly new to us, is it? (takes a paper from the file) Wrongful death settlements, partial list: family of Donald Gennaro, 36.5 million dollars; family of Robert Muldoon, 12.6 million. Damaged or destroyed equipment, 17.3 million. Demolition, de-construction, and disposal of Isla Nublar facilities, organic and inorganic, one hundred and twenty-six million dollars. The list goes on, gentlemen -- research funding, media payoffs. Silence is expensive.

He's warming up. Not a bad performer.

LUDLOW (cont'd) This corporation has been bleeding from the throat for four years. You, our board of directors, have set patiently and listened to ecology lectures while Mr. Hammond signed your checks and spent your money. You have watched your stock drop from seventy-eight and a quarter to nineteen flat with no good and in sight. And all along, we have held a significant product asset that we could have safely harvested and displayed for profit. Enormous profit.

He reaches out to a model on the table and gives it a shove, sending it sliding down the length of the table in front of them. It's a mini-mall version of a zoo. Cages hold tiny replicas of various kinds of dinosaurs while Boy Scout troops and Tourists look on in wonder.

LUDLOW (cont'd) Enough money to wipe out four years of lawsuits and damage control and unpleasant infighting, enough to not only send our stock back to where it was but to double it. And the one thing, the only thing standing between us and this asset is a born-again naturalist who happens to be our own CEO. Well, I don't work for Mother Nature. I work for you.

Two of his Backbenchers distribute documents from a stack. Ludlow takes one and reads from it.

LUDLOW (cont'd) "Whereas the Chief Executive Officer has engaged in wasteful and negligent business practices to further his own personal environmental beliefs -- Whereas these practices have affected the financial performance of the company by incurring significant losses -- Whereas the shareholders have been materially harmed by these losses -- Thereby, be it resolved that John Parker Hammond should be resolved from the office of Chief Executive Officer, affective immediately." Mr. Chairman, I move the resolution be put to an immediate vote. Do I have a second?

BOARD MEMBER I second the motion, Mr. Chairman, Please poll the members by a show of hands.

The CHAIRMAN signs heavily, feeling like a traitor. He can't bear to look at Hammond on the TV monitor.

CHAIRMAN All those in favor of InGen Corporate Resolution 213C, please signify your approval by raising your right hand.

It starts slowly, guiltily, but every hand in the room goes up. Ludlow sits back, victorious. Hammond, furious, raises his right hand, which holds a remote control, and points it at the TV screen. It goes blank.



Sparks fly out the windows and doors of a shed in the middle of a welder's yard. Scrap iron and steel lies everywhere. Somewhere inside the shed, a phone RINGS.

The WHOOSH of the arc welder shuts off. DIETER STARK, a big barrel-chested man of forty or so, his face streaked with soot and grime, steps outside with a cordless phone, a cigarette dangling from his lips.


He takes a deep drag while someone talks on the other end. He smiles and blows out a cloud of smoke.


Smoke turns into steam as a subway THUNDER into a station underneath Manhattan. The door WHOOSH open, spit out some COMMUTERS and suck up a few more.

A tall man hurries down the platform, limping heavily, moving as fast as he can. The subway doors begin to close, but just before they meet --

-- the man jams a cane in between, stopping them. The man is IAN MALCOLM, fortyish, dressed in black from head to toe. There's a hard wisdom in Malcolm's eyes that may not have been there's a few years ago -- he know what you think, and he doesn't care.


MALCOLM finds a seat on the crowded subway car and sits down. He looks awful. Tired. Weathered. He notices a CURIOUS MAN across from his is staring at his. Malcolm looks away. The Curious Man still stares. Nervy, the Curious Man gets up and approaches.

MALCOLM (under his breath) Shit.

The Curious Man sits down next to Malcolm, grinning.

MAN You're him, aren't you?

MALCOLM Excuse me?

MAN The guy. The scientist. I saw you on TV. (conspiratorially) I believed you.

No response from Malcolm. The guy leans in even closer.

MAN (cont'd) Roooooarr.

MALCOLM (a withering look) I was misquoted. I was merely speculating on the evolutionary scenario of a Lost World. I never said I was in any such place.

He gets up and moves to another seat on the car, away from the Curious Man. As he sits down, he notices two other COMMUTERS across from him are staring at him.

He looks at them. They looks away.

He pulls the collar of his coat up tight around him. Nowhere to hide.


A UNIFORMED BUTLER has a question:

BUTLER Whom shall I tell Mr. Hammond is calling?

MALCOLM stands in the foyer of an expensively decorated Park Avenue apartment.

MALCOLM Ian Malcolm

A door opens and a little dog comes YAPPING out of the back. It bounds straight at Malcolm, GROWLING, jaws SNAPPING. It lunges --

-- and Malcolm BATS it away with one swift swing of his cane. The dog rolls across the floor and slinks away, WHINING. The Butler looks at Malcolm disapprovingly. BUTLER Not an animal lover?

MALCOLM Not really.


MALCOLM enters a darkened bedroom. JOHN HAMMOND lies in the bed we saw earlier, on the other side of the room;

Medical equipment has been disguised as well as possible among the furniture and flowers, but the sheer abundance of it tells us that whatever has stricken him is going to win this battle.

HAMMOND Ian! Don't linger in the doorway like an ingenue, come in, come in!

Malcolm steps further into the room.

HAMMOND (cont'd) It's good to see you. It really is. How's the leg?

MALCOLM Resentful.

HAMMOND When you have a lot of time to think, it's funny who you remember. It's the people who challenged you. It is the quality of our opponents that gives our accomplishments meaning. I never told you how sorry I was about what happened after we returned. Noticing Hammond's deteriorated condition, Malcolm finds it hard to sustain anger. MALCOLM I didn't know you -- weren't well. HAMMOND It's the lawyers. The lawyers are finally killing me. MALCOLM They do have motives. Why did you want to see me? Your message said it was urgent. HAMMOND You were right -- and I was wrong. There! Did you ever think you'd hear me say that? Spectacularly wrong. Instead of observing those animals, I tried to control them. I squandered an opportunity and we still know next to nothing about their lives. Not their lives as man would have them, behind electric fences, but in the wild. Behavior in their natural habitat, the impossible dream of any paleontologist. I could have had it, but I let it slip away. (pause) Thank God for Site B. Malcolm just looks at him for a long moment. MALCOLM What? HAMMOND (a spark in his eye) Well? Didn't it all seem a trifle compact to you? MALCOLM What are you talking about? HAMMOND The hatchery, in particular? You know my initial yields had to be low, far less than one percent, that's a thousand embryos for every single live birth. Genetic engineering on that scale implies a giant operation, not the spotless little laboratory I showed you.

MALCOLM I don't believe you.

HAMMOND Isla Nublar was just a showroom, Ian, something for the tourists, Site B was the factory floor. We built it first, on Isla Sorna, eight-some miles from Nublar.

MALCOLM No, no, no, no, no, no . . .

HAMMOND After the accident at the park, a hurricane wiped out our facility on Site B. We had to evacuate and leave the animals to fend for themselves. And they did. For four years I've fought to keep them safe from human meddling, now I want you to go there and document them.

MALCOLM Are you out of your mind? I still have nightmares, my reputation's a joke, my leg is shot -- you think I need more of that?

HAMMOND It would be the most extraordinary living fossil record the world has ever seen.

MALCOLM So what?

Hammonnd picks up a thick file folder from the night table near to him and open it on his lap. Inside, there are memos, charts, maps and photographs.

HAMMOND I've been putting this together for over a year. (MORE) I have personal suggestions for your entire team, phone numbers, contact people. They won't believe you about what they're going to see, so don't bother trying to convince them. Just use my checkbook to get them there. I'll fund your expedition through my personal accounts, as such money and equipment as you need, but only if you leave immediately. If we hesitate, all will be lost.

MALCOLM John . . .

HAMMOND You'll need an animal behaviorist, someone with unimpeachable credentials. I believe you already know Sarah Harding. She's got theories about parenting and nurturing among hunter/scavengers I bet she'd be dying to prove on a scale like this. If you convince her to go, it'll be a major coup. When she publishes, the scientific community must take it seriously.

Malcolm just shakes his head, flipping through the file sadly.

HAMMOND Your documentation, you should use forensic photographic methods, Hasselbladt still cameras, high definition video. When the trick photography analysts take your evidence apart, make it impossible for them to say there was enhancement or computer graphic imaging. Oh, this is very important -- avoid the island interior at all costs. Stick to the outer rim. Everything you need to know can be found there. Vindication lies on the outer rim.

Malcolm gently closes the file and pushes it back to Hammond.

MALCOLM I'm not going, John.

HAMMOND (fatigue returning) Ian, you are my last chance to give something of real value to the world. I can't walk so far and leave no footprints; die and leave nothing with my name on it. I will not be known only for my failures. And you will not allow yourself to go down in history as a lunatic. You're too smart. You'e too proud. Dr. Malcolm. Please. This is a chance at redemption. For both of us. There's no time to equivocate, we must seize it now, before --

He stops, staring over Malcom's shoulder. Malcom turns. PETER LUDLOW, still in his overcoat, is standing in the doorway to the bedroom. He looks back and forth from Hammond to Malcolm suspiciously.

LUDLOW Hello, Uncle John. Dr. Malcolm.

Malcolm doesn't answer. He seems to know Ludlow, and dislikes him.

LUDLOW (cont'd) Did I interrupt something?

Malcolm turns back to Hammond.

MALCOLM Find someone else.



In the foyer, LUDLOW hands MALCOLM his coat, just a trifle rudely, and shepherds him to the door.

LUDLOW So, you two were just, uh, telling old campfire stories, were you?

MALCOLM Do me a favor. Don't pretend for a second that you and I don't know the truth. You can convince Time magazine and the Skeptical Inquirer of whatever you want, but I was there.

LUDLOW You signed a non-disclosure agreement before you went to the island that expressly forbade you from discussing anything you saw. You violated that agreement.

MALCOLM You cost me my livelihood. That on which I relied to support my children.

LUDLOW If your university felt you were causing it embarrassment by selling wild stories to Hard Copy, I hardly see how I am to--

MALCOLM I didn't tell anything, I told the truth.

LUDLOW You version of it.

MALCOLM There are no versions of the truth! This isn't a corporate maneuver, it's my life.

LUDLOW We made a generous compensatory offer for your injuries.

MALCOLM It was a payoff and an insult. InGen never--

LUDLOW InGen is my livelihood, Dr. Malcolm, and I will jealously defend its interests. People will know what I want them to know when I want them to know it.

Ludlow tosses something to Malcolm, hard. It sails across the foyer, upright, and Malcolm reaches out and catches it with one hand. It's his cane.

LUDLOW (cont'd) Don't forget that.

Malcolm stares at him for a long moment. Finally, he turns and walks away.

But he does not out of the apartment. Instead, he walks directly past Ludlow, crosses the living room, and steps back into Hammond's bedroom, closing the door behind him with a determined CLICK.


HAMMOND looks up, hopeful, as MALCOLM comes back into the room and walks over to his bed. He reaches down --

-- and picks up the file folder.

MALCOLM Do you have a satellite phone?



ROLAND TEMBO, late sixties, skin like leather and the diamond hard look of a cobra, sits at a table in the middle of an African cafe/bar in Mombassa.

It's daytime and the place is half full, mostly with locals, but there are a few obnoxious TOURISTS too, Americans on safari who somehow found the local handout.

They're a noisy bunch, but Roland tunes them out, calmly eating his lunch and drinking a beer while he reads a book, eyeglasses hanging low on his nose.

Roland suddenly stops reading and furrows his brow. He looks up. He SNIFFS the air once, then smiles and calls out a person's name.


He turns around. AJAY (AH-jay) SIDHU, a wiry East Indian in his late forties, is standing behind him, caught trying to sneak up.

AJAY (delighted) How did you know?

ROLAND (taps his nose) That cheap aftershave I send you every Christmas, you actually wear it. I'm touched. Sit down, sit down, what brings you to Mombassa?

AJAY You. Tell me, Roland, when was the last time you answered your phone?

ROLAND Last time I plugged it in, I suppose. Why?

Behind them, the group of TOURISTS, all men, laughs loudly. One of them, the MOST OBNOXIOUS TOURISTS, berates the WAITRESS.

AJAY I got a call from a gentleman who's going to Costa Rica, or thereabouts. If he's to be believed, it's a most, uh, unique expedition. And very well-funded.

ROLAND Well, I'm a very well-funded old son of a bitch. You go.

The Most Obnoxious Tourist bellows for the Waitress. His buddies LAUGHS. Roland throws a glance, annoyed.

AJAY But alone? We always had great success together, you and I.

ROLAND Just a little bit too much, I think.

AJAY How do you mean?

ROLAND A true hunter doesn't mind if the animal wins. If it escapes. But there weren't enough escapes from you and me, Ajay. I've decided to spend a bit less time in the company of death. Maybe I just feel too close to it my--

The Waitress comes to the Tourists' table and the Most Obnoxious Tourist actually paws her ass. Roland is out of his chair in a second.

ROLAND (cont'd) (to Ajay) Excuse me.

Romand walks over to the Tourists' table, says something to the Waitress in the local dialect, and she walks away, behind him. He stares down at the Most Obnoxious Tourist.

ROLAND (cont'd) You, sir -- are no gentleman.

TOURIST Is that supposed to be an insult?

ROLAND I can think of none greater.

The Tourist looks at his Buddies and laughs.

TOURIST Buzz off, you silly old bastard.

ROLAND What do I have to do to pick a fight with you, bring your mother into it?

TOURIST Are you kidding? I could take you with one arm tied down.

ROLAND Really?


the Waiter finishes tying a man's wrist to his belt in the back of his pants with a napkin. He pulls the knot tight and the man turns around.

It's Roland, with his arm tied down. The Tourist stands across from him.

TOURIST I mean my arm.

POW! Roland punches him square in the jaw. The Tourist reels, stunned. Enraged, he lunges at Roland, swinging with both arms.

Roland bobs, neatly ducking the punches, waits for the Tourist to turn around, and POPS him thrice in the face. The Tourist spins and goes down to the floor, face first. A cloud of sawdust and a loud CHEER from the locals rise up in the bar.


Roland drops the napkin on the table and sits back down with Ajay. In the background, the Tourist's Buddies hurriedly carry their fallen cohort out of the bar.

ROLAND Sorry. We were saying?

AJAY You broke that idiot's jaw for no reason other than your boredom. Tell the truth, Roland. Aren't you even interested in knowing this expedition's quarry?

ROLAND Ajay. Go on up to my ranch, take a look around the trophy room, and tell me what kind of quarry you think could possibly be of any interest to me.

Ajay just smiles.



The African savannah appears in shades of fluorescent green, seen through night-vision goggles. An ANIMAL YELP comes from the left and the green vista sweeps abruptly toward it. The world blurs momentarily, then comes into focus on a field of long grass.

The grass ripples in a complex pattern as animals move stealthily through it. One animal head pops up above the grass for a split-second, teeth bared, a white stripe between its eyes. SARAH HARDING pulls the goggles away from her face.

SARAH Hyenas. Ace Face is the striped snout.

Sarah is thirty, with a compact, athletic body built for the outdoors. She loos through the goggles again, sweeping ahead of the hyenas to their prey.

It's a herd of African buffalo, standing belly-deep in the grass, agitated, bellowing and stamping their feet.

Sarah turns to MAKENA, her African assistant.

SARAH (cont'd) They'll try to take down a calf. Come on.

MAKENA Closer?

Sarah scurries up and over a rock face. Makena follows. Closer now, they watch as the hyenas rush the herd, running through it, trying to break it up.

MAKENA (cont'd) You know, we could see everything from up on the edge of that cliff.

SARAH No way.

MAKENA But the view would --

SARAH No cliffs. (into a pocket recorder) F1 headed sough, F2 and F5 flanking, twenty yards. F3 center. F6 circling wide east. Can't see F7.

While she talks, breathless, fascinated by the drama before her, Sarah continues to creep closer and closer to the action. Makena follows, with growing unease.


SARAH F8 circling north. F1 straight through, disrupting. Herd moving, stamping. There's F7. Straight through. F8 angling through from the north.

She's practically on top of the animals now.

MAKENA Dr. Harding.

Makena has a hold of Sarah's sweatshirt and is tugging her back, at least trying to slow down her progress as Sarah, wide-eyed with fascination, creeps even closer.

Suddenly there is a tremendous BELLOWING and the grass right in front of them rips apart, trampled under the feet of the hyenas as they cluster around a fallen buffalo calf. They yelp and jump, their muzzles bloody.

The adults move aside, making room as the hyena pups come forward, squealing to get at the kill. Sarah's eyes shine with excitement and she moves even closer, whispering into the tape recorder.

SARAH Brooding behavior in evidence at the kill site, pups are ushered forward and adults help them eat, pulling flesh away from the carcass and--

A telephone rings.

Sarah stops in mid-sentence, unsure if she heard what she thought she heard. It rings again, the unmistakable CHIRPING of a cellular phone. Sarah and Makena both move at once, pawing at a backpack.

SARAH (cont'd) (a frantic whisper) I thought you turned it off!

Two hyenas look inquisitively in the direction of the phone. Sarah comes up with it and jabs at a button in irritation.

SARAH (cont'd) Yes?!

Someone speaks on the other end. Sarah rolls her eyes.

SARAH (cont'd) Ian. This better be important.

Sarah doesn't say anything for a long moment, just listens as the voice on the other end talks. And talks.

SARAH (cont'd) When?



Ian Malcolm's leg, badly scarred, is bared and draped over the end of a bench. Two sandbags are fastened to his ankle and MALCOLM is lifting them, painfully rehabbing his injury while talking on a satellite phone.

MALCOLM We leave in twenty-four hours. Five member team.

Behind them, the SPARKS of a acetylene torch fly as WORKMEN make modifications on several vehicles, including a dark-green Mercedes Benz AAV (all-activity vehicle). The hood of the AAV is up and the V-6 engine has been pulled out; a new, smaller engine is lowered in its place. To one side are two long trailers, connected by an accordion-like passageway, like on a subway car, allowing one to be towed behind the other.

MALCOLM Eddie Carr's handling all our equipment and he'll be there to maintain it. He's designing special field trailers now, top of the line mobile research units.

EDDIE CARR, fortyish, is barking out orders to the Workmen.

EDDIE No, no, look at the plans, Henry, you can't place that strut laterally, it has to be crosswise, LOOK AT THE PLANS!

From the ceiling, a large metal age CRASHES down, landing next to them on the floor with a deafening CLANG. They leap back and look up. A WORKMAN waves from a scaffolding.

WORKMAN Sorry, Eddie! Specs say it can't deform at 12,000 PSI, we had to test it

Eddie bends down to inspect the cage, which is rectangular, constructed of inch-thick titanium-alloy bars. Malcolm hangs up the phone and walks up, joining him.

MALCOLM Any damage?

EDDIE Minimal.

MALCOLM "Minimal" is too much. It has to be light, it has to be strong --

EDDIE Light and strong, light and strong, sure, why not, it's only impossible. God save me from academics.

MALCOLM You are an academic.

EDDIE Former academic. Now I actually make things. I don't just talk.

MALCOLM You think I'm all talk, Eddie?

EDDIE (doesn't look at him) It doesn't matter what I think.

MALCOLM Is there anything we've forgotten? Anything at all?

Behind them, someone CLEARS THEIR THROAT. Eddie and Malcolm turn around. KELLY MALCOLM, an African-American girl around twelve years old, stands in the doorway to the garage, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. She looks at Malcolm and breaks into a wide grin.

KELLY Hi, Dad.

MALCOLM Kelly! What are you doing here?

She drops the bag on the floor, and wraps her arms around him in a warm embrace. He responds stiffly.

KELLY Vacation. I'm all yours. You didn't forget, did you?

She pulls back and looks at him.

KELLY (cont'd) Did you?



KELLY is slumped in a chair in Eddie's office next to the construction floor. Outside the glass windows work on the vehicles continues unabated. MALCOLM hangs up the phone.

MALCOLM Okay, Karen is expecting you in half an hour. You only have to stay with her one night, she'll put you on a bus in the morning and your mother will be at the station when you get there.

KELLY I don't even know this woman.

MALCOLM Well, I do, and she's fantastic. She'll take you to the museum, maybe to a movie if you play your cards right. You're going to have a fantastic time.

KELLY Stop saying fantastic. Where are you going?

MALCOLM I can't tell you. But I'll be back within a week.

KELLY My vacation is over in a week.

MALCOLM I'll make it up to you this summer. I promise.

KELLY I'm your daughter all the time, you know. Not just when it's convenient.

MALCOLM Very hurtful. Your mother tell you to say that?

KELLY No, Dad. I have thoughts of my own once in a while.

From the construction floor, EDDIE calls out.

EDDIE (o.s.) Dr. Malcolm!

Malcolm looks at her, trying to make peace. Quickly.

MALCOLM Is that kid still bothering you?

KELLY Which one?

MALCOLM You know, at the bus stop. With the hair?

KELLY That was about a year ago.

MALCOLM Well, is he?

KELLY No. Richard talked to his parents.

MALCOLM That Richard.

EDDIE (o.s.) Ian, come here a minute!

KELLY (to Malcolm) I could come with you.

MALCOLM Out of the question. You'd miss the gymnastics trials. You've been training for that for a year.

KELLY I don't care about the trials, I want to be with you. I could be your research assistant, like I was in Austin.

MALCOLM This is nothing like Austin. Forget about it.

KELLY You like to have kids, you just don't want to be with them, do you?

He looks at her, hurt. Eddie calls out a third time, impatient now. Grateful for the escape, Malcolm gets up and heads for the door. He pauses guiltily.

MALCOLM I'm not like you wan me to be. I've what I can be.

He leaves.


While MALCOLM and EDDIE argue over something in the background, KELLY circles around the trailers and looks up at the windows. They're all made of tempered glass, fine wire mesh inside it. She looks around, to see if anybody's watching. They're not, so she quickly slips inside the front trailer.


Inside, the trailer is a miracle of planning and design. It's divided into sections, for different laboratory functions. The main area is a biological lab, with specimen trays, dissecting pans, and microscopes that connect to video monitors.

Next to it there's an extensive computer section, a bank of processors, and a communications section. All the lab equipment is miniaturized and built into small tables that slides into the walls. Everything is bolted down.

She notices a large map on the wall. Off the coat of Costa Rica, there is an area that has been circled in heavy black ink.

Kelly puts a finger on the map, crossing westward, through the Pacific Ocean. Thegre are dozen s of islands out here, but in the highlighted region, there is a semi-circle of five. Matanceros. Muerte. Tacano. Pena. And Sorna. Underneath the whole island chain, there is a bold legend.

"The Five Deaths," it says.

Slowly, an ocean barge starts to chug its way across the face of the map, leaving a wake that rolls the printed letters of those three ominous words.



The map dissolves slowly away as the barge SPALASEHS through five foot ocean swells in the open sea. The barge is crammed with equipment, the AAV, trailers, a jeep, and the members of Malcolm's team.


MALCOLM stands in the bow, riding the choppy seas. Next to him, DR. JUTTSON, fortyish, holds onto the railing, seasick. He SHOUTS over the DRONE of the boat's engines.

JUTTISON (as the waves pound the boat) Couldn't -- we just -- airlift -- into the -- island?

MALCOLM Dr. Harding insisted we go by sea! Helicopters are too disruptive. These aren't piles of bones you'll be studying this time, Dr. Juttson, they live, they breathe, and they react!

Juttson looks at him skeptically --

-- and throws up.


NICK VAN OWEN, a good-looking American in his late twenties, is sitting amid a pile of video cameras and other photographic equipment, playing with a Game Bow. SARAH HARDING, dressed in field gear, sits down next to him.

SARAH So what's your story, Nick?

NICK I was a cameraman for Nightline for six years, been freelance since '91. Do a lot of work for Greenpeace.

SARAH That must be interesting. What drew you there?

NICK Women. 'Bout eighty percent female in Greenpeace.

SARAH Very noble of you. (of the noisy Game Boy) You don't think you're bringing that thing onto the island, do you?

Nick grins and shuts it off.

NICK Hey, I wouldn't want to spook the woolly mammoths.

SARAH You think this is all a joke?

NICK Oh, please. How am I supposed to keep a straight face when -- (gestures to the black-clad Malcolm) -- Johnny Cash here tells me I'm going to Skull Island?

SARAH (not amused) Ian's a very good friend of mine.

NICK He doesn't need a friend, he needs a shrink.

SARAH I believe in him.

But her face says even she has her doubts.

NICK Come on, there's only one reason any of us are here. His check cleared.

She looks at him.

SARAH Drop the cynical pose. You can't pull it off while playing Donkey Kong.

The boat's CAPTAIN, a Costa Rican, points ahead and SHOUTS to them.

CAPTAIN There it is!

They all turn and look out over the bow. Up ahead, shear, reddish-gray cliffs of volcanic rock rise dramatically out of the fog-heavy ocean.

CAPTAIN (cont'd) Isla Sorna!

The boat ROARS ahead, plowing into a heavy wreath of fog. The mist swirls and encircles it.


A narrow inlet cuts through the steep cliffs, leading to the island interior. The barge bursts through the fog at the mouth of the fiord and heads deeper into the island.


Lush green plants drip everywhere in this verdant lagoon. Sulfurous yellow steam issues from the ground, bleaching the nearby foliage white. In the distance one can hear the cries of JUNGLE BIRDS.

The boat is now beached and the CREW flips the tarps off the AAV, the jeep, and the trailers. The trucks back down a narrow ramp and onto the soft clay shore at the edge of the lagoon. There is a large three-toad animal imprint in the clay at the water's edge, and the AAV backs right over it, swapping its track for the animal's.

MALCOLM is at the edge of the water with the CAPTAIN.

MALCOLM Be back in three days, but keep the satellite phone on and your radio tuned to the frequency I specified in case we need you sooner.

CAPTAIN Don't worry. I've lived around here all my life, these islands are completely --

In the distance, they hear the faint, strange ROAR of a very large animal. The Captain looks at Malcolm, eyes wide.

CAPTAIN (cont'd) -- safe.



The jeep tows the double trailer to the edge of a grassy plain just beyond the lagoon, overlooking the interior of the island. The noon sun is high overhead; below, the valley shimmers in midday heat.

EDDIE connects a flexible cable to the jeep's power winch and flicks it on. The cable turns slowly in the sunlight. Moving along the length of it, we see the cable leads to a pile of aluminum, some kind of strut assembly painted a camouflage color.

As the winch pulls the cable tight, the jumble of thin struts begins to move, slowly rising into the air. The emerging structure climbs, spidery, struts unfolding, fifteen feet into the air. The light house at the top (the cage that was tested back at Eddie's workshop) is now just beneath the lowest branches of the nearby trees, which almost conceal it from view.

NICK lights a cigarette and carelessly tosses the match on the ground. Malcolm notices.

MALCOLM Listen. I know you all have probably concluded that I'm out of my mind.

Is it our imagination, or did the trees behind Malcolm just sway slightly?

MALCOLM (cont'd) That's all right, for now. But just humor me and be careful.

No, it's not our imagination, there they go again. Whole trees shivering and swaying from left to right and back again.

MALCOLM (cont'd) Even if you think I'm harmless and deluded, I promise --

Now the trees CREAKS and GROAN as they sway. Everyone has seen it, and now Malcolm turns around too.

MALCOLM (cont'd) -- this place is for real.



It's quiet inside the trailers that serve as their command post/living quarters. The books are lined up neatly on the shelves. The computers sit, booted up and awaiting data input.

All the way in the back, past the spare tires and life preservers and canned food and bottled water, up in one storage bin all the way on top, there's a RUSTLING SOUND.

A plastic student ID card pops out in the cracks under the bin's door. A photograph in the lower right hand corner of the card is visible -- it's Kelly, Malcolm's twelve-year-old daughter.

The card wriggles against the lock and, with a soft CLICK, the door pops open. KELLY herself tumbles out, wrapped in several blankets and carrying a mason jar half full of a yellowish liquid. We can guess.

She leaps to her feet, blinks the light out of her eyes, and bolts to the back of the trailer as fast as she possibly can. She races through a narrow door and SLAMS it shut.

A sign on the door says "RESTROOM." Inside, a SIGH of relief is heard.



Along a stream bed, the jungle trees still shiver. NICK loads a three quarter inch tape into his heavy video camera and chews anxiously on a piece of gum. SARAH and DR. JUTTSON are beside him as the group nervously follows the GROANING forest trees to their right.

At the rear, EDDIE and MALCOLM walk side by side. Eddie is carrying a heavy silver rifle, an aluminum canister hanging beneath the barrel. He shows it to Malcolm, his voice low and urgent.

EDDIE Lindstradt air rifle. Fires a subsonic Fluger impact-delivery dart.

He cracks open the cartridge bank, revealing a row of plastic containers filled with straw-colored liquid. Each is tipped with a three inch needle and carries a bright yellow warning tag -- "EXTREME DANGER! LETHAL TOXICITY!"

EDDIE (cont'd) I loaded the enhanced venom of Conus purpurascens, the South Sea cone shell. Most powerful neurotoxin in the world. Acts within a two-thousandth of a second. Faster than the nerve-conduction velocity. The animal's down before it feels the prick of the dart.

From their right, the shaking trees seen closer now. By walking down the stream bed, the humans are tracking right along with the animals as they move in the foliage.

MALCOLM (to Eddie) Is there an antidote?

EDDIE Like if you shoot yourself in the foot? Wouldn't matter. You'd be dead before you realized you'd accidentally pulled the trigger.

Ahead of them, thick foliage blocks the path of the dried up stream bed to the height of about fifteen feet. But around them, the CRASHING sounds get louder and closer, the swaying trees shiver right beside them. Eddie raises the rifle in defense as the trees right at the edge of the stream bed sway and part. Above the foliage, they see the sudden movement --

-- of a row of STEGOSAUR fins. The spade-shaped fins run along a ridge down the middle of the animal's back, about three feet tall each. The group freezes, amazed, and as the stegosaur continues on, they get a good look at it through a break in the foliage.

It's a large dinosaur with a small head, a thick neck, and a huge lumbering body.

A double row of plates runs along the crest of its back, and it has a dragging trail with long spikes in it.

The gum drops out of Nick's mouth, FLOPS onto his shirt, and sticks there.

NICK Oh --

JUTTSON -- my --

EDDIE -- God!

SARAH It's beautiful!

A second stegosaur, a baby about a quarter the size of the first animal, breaks through the foliage, following the adult.

While the group is reaching to that, the earth vibrates and a third stego, by far the biggest of the three, walks out of the foliage right behind them, crossing within ten feet.

Apparently unconcerned about these little creatures in their environment, the stegos continue on across the stream bed.

Sarah raises a still camera and shoots pictures. Her shutter is muted, so that a muffled CLICK is all that's audible.

Juttson raises a pocket recorder to his lips and whispers into it breathlessly.

JUTTSON Stegosaurus, family Stegosauridae, infraorder Stegosauria, suborder Thyreophora. Length, adult male, estimate twenty-five to thirty feet.

His breathy words turn into almost helpless laughter, of all things, as he can't contain his astonishment. Eddie covers his mouth, trying to keep him quiet.

SARAH (to Juttsn) That was a pair bond! A family group, even, long after that infant was nestbound!

JUTTSON I want to see the nesting ground!

Nick turns to Malcolm, eyes like saucers, and makes a futile, wordless, boy-was-I-wrong-on-this-one gesture. Malcolm smiles, leans over, and TAPS softly on Nick's video camera. Nick raises it to his shoulder and flicks it on as the group continues on into the bush after the animals.


the baby wanders away from the group and ambles over near where Sarah crouches in the bushes. Sarah raises her camera again and silently SNAPS a picture. She WHISPERS to Juttson, who is beside her.

SARAH Lone nest -- not colonial. I don't see an egg clutch...

She gestures and Juttson peers through a pair of field glasses.

JUTTSON (whispering back) The empty shells are crushed and trampled. The young stay in the birth environment, that's conclusive!

SARAH Not without a shot of the nest.

She sees an opportunity. As the baby heads back to its parents, Sarah scoots right along with it, moving behind it, using its body as a shield to block her from the view of the other two.

Nick and Eddie's faces whiten in alarm. Nick reaches out to stop her, but he barely gets hold of the sole of her boot before she pulls away from him and duckwalks out into the clearing.


Sarah slinks along behind the baby stego as it walks back, toward the nest, chewing the branches it carries in its south. She raises up sightly, squeezing off pictures of the herd, ever better as she gets closer.


the others can only watch her, aghast.

NICK She's gutty.

MALCOLM She's nuts.


Sarah keeps moving closer. The baby passes a small grouping of rocks and Sarah ducks behind them. She's now in a perfect position to photograph the nest, and she squeezes off picture after picture from this ideal vantage point.

She shoots the last picture on the roll --

-- and the camera's autowinder WHIRS to life. Sarah looks down in horror as the camera's motor WHINES loudly in her hands.

Th noise startles the animals. The male turns toward her the plates on its back bristling. Sarah gets to her feet and starts to move away, slowly.

The male turns away from her and swings its tail, spikes extended. It WHIZZES through the air, right at her, but Sarah leaps back at the last second --

-- and the tail's spikes THUD into the dirt where she was.

Sarah CRUNCHES to the ground and the three stegosaurs dart away, disappearing into the bush, moving surprisingly quickly for animals their size.

The others run to Sarah, help her to her feet, and pull her back, against a massive tree trunk. But the tree trunk lifts right up off the ground.

It's no tree, it's a DINOSAUR'S LEG, a massive one, six feet across, God knows how many feet high. The Group gasps and looks up as a MAKENCHIASAURUS, an enormous saurupod over a hundred feet from nose to tail, lumbers away from them.

The Group stares in wonder as the mamenchiasaur stops and HONKS furtively, its long neck stretched out above them.

Now a second mamenchiasaur neck cranes out of the surrounding forest trees and wraps around the first. The first mamenchiasaur THUNDERS around in a semi-circle, getting into position behind the second.

Nick swings his video camera straight up and the group suddenly finds itself in the middle of a mamenchiasaur mating.

The mighty tails swing and SNAP around them as the two animals come together, and trees start snapping and falling, CRASHING to the jungle floor.

The group panics and bolts for cover toward the only place where the trees are not falling -- which is directly underneath the animals!

Amid HONKS and BLEATS, the swinging tails continue to deforest the jungle around them.

The noise and chaos is deafening, drowning out the LAUGHTER and SCREAMS of the fascinated and terrified group.

There is a momentary lull and the group dashes out from underneath the animals, disappearing into the thick forest.


the Group collapses to the ground, breathless, chests heaving with wild, frightened laughter. Sarah goes to Malcolm and throws her arms around him, exhilarated.

SARAH Ian, you're not insane! I'm so glad!

JUTTSON (out of breath) Dr. Malcolm -- the world -- owes you an apology.



Suddenly, the Gathereres are taking their expedition a lot more seriously. They march quickly back to base camp, their energy and excitement palpable. NICK strikes a match and raises it to a cigarette with a shaking hand, but SARAH leans in and blows it out.

SARAH No more smoking. We leave no scent of any kind. No hair tonics, no cologne, seal all our food in plastic bags. We will observe and document, but we will not interact.

MALCOLM That's a scientific impossibility, you know. Heisenberg uncertainty principle. Whatever you study, you also change.

Nick ejects the used videotape from his camera and pulls out a sharpie, to label it.

NICK What should I call this? "Jurassic Pork?"

Eddie, next to him, laughs.

SARAH (still to Malcolm) And let's forget about the high hide. We can't do this kind of work up in a tower, we need to be out in the field, as close to the animals as possible.

JUTTSON I'm not surprised stegosaur lived in a family group, but there's never been anything in the fossil record to prove the carnivores did.

SARAH Why wouldn't they? Look at hyenas, jackals, nearly all species of predator birds --

JUTTSON That doesn't say a thing about T-rex, they could have been rogues. Robert Burke certainly thinks they were.

SARAH We've got to see one to find out. Is there any --


NICK Oh, my God.

SARAH -- way we could safely --

NICK Oh, no!

He takes off, running as fast as he can, down the trail, toward base camp. They look ahead, in the direction Nick is running. A plume of black smoke is rising up over the trees.




NICK bursts out of the trees and races toward the thick plume of smoke. In the middle of the base camp, someone has neatly built a campfire surrounded by stones. Flames burn in the middle.

Nick races over to it and stomps it out as the OTHERS emerge from the trees behind him.

MALCOLM A campfire?!

Nick grabs a jug of water, but Sarah steps in.

SARAH No! Water mixes the smoke billow, use dirt!

They start to kick and rake dirt onto the fire with their hands and feet. Eddie and Dr. Juttson jump in and help out.

MALCOLM Who the hell started a campfire?!

VOICE (o.s.) It was just to make lunch.

Malcolm turns toward the source of the voice. KELLY stands in the doorway of the trailer, sheepish.

KELLY (cont'd) I wanted it ready when you got back.

The whole group stares, stunned, none more so than Malcolm himself.

MALCOLM Oh ... man.



Later, and base camp is a blur of activity. SARAH, JUTTSON, NICK, and EDDIE are hard at work, burying the remains of the fire, sealing their food in plastic bags, loading camera equipment, packing up specimen containers and other information-gathering equipment.

MALCOLM, meanwhile, is lecturing Kelly.

MALCOLM You know you were putting yourself in a potentially dangerous situation, but you didn't bother to find out how dangerous before you leapt in. You don't have the faintest idea what's going on on this island!

SARAH (loading a backpack) What do you want to do, Ian, lock her up for curiosity? Where do you think she gets it?

JUTTSON (to Nick) Do you have chromium tapes? The others fog in high-

NICK -humidity, I know. (waving a tape) Highest lead density on the market.

EDDIE (to Malcolm) We've got a lot of heavy marching ahead of us. I'm not carrying anybody.

KELLY I can keep up.

MALCOLM You're going home. I'm sending a radio call for the boats. We'll all go down to the lagoon and wait for them.

SARAH Lighten up, Ian, you sound like a high school vice-principal.

MALCOLM I'm her father.

KELLY Sure, now.

Nick leans over and whispers to Eddie, gesturing to Malcolm and Kelly.

NICK Do you see any family resemblance here?

MALCOLM You can't stay, Kelly, that's it. It's too dangerous.

SARAH If it's so dangerous, why'd you bring any of us?

KELLY You're wrong, Dad. I do know what's going on on this island.

MALCOLM How could you possibly?

KELLY Because you said so. Maybe nobody else believed you, but I always did.

He looks at her, touched. Nick mutters to Eddie again.

NICK The kid scores with cheap sentiment.

SARAH Ian, if we recall the boat now, we've made two invasive landings in one day. That'll have to go in any paper I write, and it will leave room for people to say our findings were contaminated. You know the academic world as well as I do, once they smell blood in the water, you're dead. Our presence has got to be one hundred percent antiseptic. That means if we bend a blade of grass, we bend it right back the way it-

A low sound has been rising while she speaks, and now it comes BOOMING over the jungle around them, a THUNDEROUS racket that shakes the very ground beneath them. Suddenly, three C-130 military cargo planes THUNDER overhead and ROAR toward the island interior, flying very low. The planes are enormous, fat-assed creatures, their rear cargo doors hanging open.


the members of the gatherer expedition hit the dirt and peer over a ledge, watching as the airplanes bank and circle over a specific spot.

Eddie raises a pair of field glasses.


huge metal equipment containers are shoved out the back of the cargo bays. They SNAP off trees like matchsticks, CRUSH flat anything foolish enough to exist where they want to land.

Now MEN pour out the rear of the planes, their low-altitude parachutes billowing open behind them.


Nick looks at Sarah.

NICK You were saying something about antiseptic?



Metal container doors CLANG to the ground, jeep engines ROAR to life in a cloud of thick black diesel smoke, blue laser barriers SIZZLE and BURN through foliage as this group of HUNTERS establishes a perimeter around their new camp.

PETER LUDLOW, dressed in brand new Banana Republic safari wear, steps into the center of the camp and surveys the surroundings. He turns to DR. ROBERT BURKE, a ragged, pony-tailed man in wire-rimmed glasses.

LUDLOW Welcome to your dream come true, Dr. Burke.

Burke has a detailed set of satellite recon photographs that he spreads out on the hood of a jeep.

BURKE I believe the large herbivores forage in open plains, like bison, which would explain the great variety of heat dots we're reading in the flatlands around this waterhole. Right -- here.

LUDLOW Then that's where we're going.

Burke flips open a manifest that he will carry with him at all times. Inside, there are dozens of sketches of various kinds underneath. As each vehicle ROARS out of the equipment container, Burke slips a waterproof eight by ten card with an icon of the various dinosaurs on the island into a slot in the dashboard.

BURKE (calling them off) Hadrosaurus! Carinthosaurus! Maiasaurus!

As the procession goes on, Ludlow turns to DIETER STARK, the man we saw welding earlier.

LUDLOW This is as good a place as any for base camp. First priority is the laser barriers, I want them all up and running in thirty minutes. Half an hour, understand?

Dieter nods and turns to some of the HUNTERS, who number about twenty in all, that are working nearby. But someone steps in front of Dieter, cutting him off. It's ROLAND TEMBO, the hunter from the bar in Mombassa.

ROLAND Cancel that, Dieter.

LUDLOW What? Why?

Roland points to a stream running nearby.

ROLAND Carnivores hunt near stream beds. Do you want to set up base camp or an all-you-can-eat people bar?

LUDLOW (thinks) You heard his, Dieter. Find a new spot. And remember, we're after herbivores only -- no unnecessary risks.

Dieter SIGHS and goes to work. Roland puts an arm around Ludlow and pulls him aside.

ROLAND Peter, if you want me to run your little camping trip, there are two conditions. First -- I'm in charge, and when I'm not around, Dieter is. Your job is to sign the checks, tell us we're doing a good job, and open your case of scotch when we have a good day. Second condition -- my fee. You can keep it. All I want in exchange for my services is the right to hunt one of the tyrannosaurs. A male. Buck only. Why and how are my business. If you don't like either of those conditions, you're on your own. Go ahead and set up your camp right here, or in a swamp, or in the middle of a rex nest, for all I care. But I've been on too many safaris with rich dentists to listen to any more suicidal ideas. Okay?

LUDLOW (what else can he say?) Okay.

ROLAND Good lad.



The jungle foliage shivers, quakes, and finally falls as the Hunters' convoy ROARS into the hart of the jungle. DIETER STARK stands in the front of the lead vehicle, the "speedbird," waving the convoy forward, his Driver (CARTER) at the wheel beside him.

LUDLOW is in the back seat of the speedbird next to DR. BURKE. ROLAND and AJAY, his tracker, are in the second jeep. They look up as the brakelights on the speedbird flash and the car stops, forcing the rest of the convoy to halt as well.

In the front, the speedbird flashes its lights at something in front of it. Dieter climbs out, plainly irritated. He walks around the front of the car and sees --

-- four PACHYCEPHALOSAURS eating grass in the middle of the jungle trail. They're about five feet tall, thick, heavy-set animals whose distinctive feature is an enormous skull casing, a tall, impressive crown that rises on the tops of their heads. Dieter doesn't seem impressed. He looks back at Ludlow, who look at Dr. Burke.

Burke stands up in his seat, a look of wonder on his face.

BURKE Pachycephalosaurus!

LUDLOW Carnivore?

BURKE (enchanted) Huh? No! No, herbivore, late Cretaceous. Very unusual plant eater, see that distinctive domed skull? That's nine inches of solid bone.

LUDLOW (who cares?) Just get them out of the way, Dieter.


The pachys look up at him sluggishly, still eating, like cows chewing their cuds. As unimpressive with him as he is with them, they go back to their grass.

DIETER (cont'd) Oh, for God's --

He slings his rifle off his shoulder and aims it at the closest animal. Behind him, Roland has climbed out of the second jeep.

ROLAND Dieter. This is a round-up, not a war. Use your powers of persuasion.

Dieter gestures to the speedbird to pull ahead, which it does, slowly, toward the animals. The pachys look up, alert, but do not move. Dieter walks toward them.

DIETER Come on, come on, don't have all day!

BURKE (going on to no one in particular) See, the pachy's neck attaches at the bottom of its skull instead of the back of its head, as with reptiles.

The speedbird draws closer. The first pachy stares at it intently. The lead vehicle gets closer, closer --

-- and BANGS into the pachy, knocking it back a few feet, out of the way.

BURKE (cont'd) So when it lowers its head, its neck lines up directly with its backbone --


Ajay is staring at something on the ground at his feet. He takes a few steps further into the foliage, then turns back toward Roland.

AJAY Roland.


the pachys turn and hop away. Dieter turns and heads back to the speedbird. As he reaches for the door, a VOICE calls "look out!" from behind him. Dieter spins around, just in time to see --

-- the first pachy in full charge. It SLAMS headfirst into the speedbird, SMASHING the headlights and denting the grill.

BURKE (concluding his lecture) Which is perfect for absorbing impact.

Dieter turns and runs around to the front of the car. The pachy has backed up for another run and is now CHARGING RIGHT AT HIM.

Dieter retreats, quickly, and rips open the passenger door to protect himself.

SLAM! The pachy clobbers the door, sending Dieter flying against the car, knocking the wind out of him.

In the other jeeps, the rest of the HUNTERS stand up or lean out the window for a better look, laughing.

POW!! The pachy head-butts the tire next to Dieter. It bounces off, tumbles to the ground, and rolls to its feet as Dieter gets to his knees and crawls toward the back of the speedbird.

But the pachy is quicker and lunges at Dieter again. He's forced to hit the dirt and crawls quickly underneath the speedbird, just as the animal SLAMS into the rear of the vehicle.

Now the other three animals join the jun. Ludlow and the Driver have to cover their heads as the animals lunge at the car again and again, SMASHING the steel-meshed windows and MANGLING the quarter panels. The rest of the group watches, vastly amused.


Ajay and Roland are staring at something on the ground -- an animal footprint, three-toed, enormous.

AJAY It matches the pictures.

ROLAND It certainly does.

Roland gets up and goes back to his vehicle, ignoring the pachy demolition derby that continues up at the speedbird. Roland opens a case in the back of the jeep, revealing --

-- his gun. It's an antique elephant gun, a double barreled .600 Nitro Express. Nearly a hundred years old, it's still in immaculate condition, its rosewood stock buttery smooth, bisons delicately engraved along its silver breach.

The barrels are twenty-four inches long, topped with an ivory bead foresight at the business end. Roland scoops up the gun, breaks the breach, and pulls two rounds of ammunition from his shirt pocket.

Four inches long and three-quarters of an inch in diameter, these are the largest full metal jacket cartridges ever made. He slips one into each barrel and heads back into the bush.

Roland pauses before he goes, as if noticing the animals trashing the speedbird for the first time.


The pachys all freeze, staring at him. Roland waves one hand, HISSES sharply between his teeth --

-- and the pachys scatter, back into the jungle. Takes care of that problem. Roland turns and heads back into the jungle, calling out over his shoulder to Ludlow.

ROLAND (cont'd) Don't worry about us. We'll catch up.

LUDLOW Where do you think you're going?!

ROLAND To collect my fee.

And with that he disappears into the foliage.

The Driver of the Speedbird drops it into gear and the battered car GROANS forward. As it moves ahead, it reveals DIETER, lying underneath it, ego bruised worse than body.


Ajay takes a step into the bush, but at a ninety degree angle away from the direction in which the animals tracks lead.


Ajay turns. Roland points in the direction in which the footprints lead.

ROLAND (cont'd) I'm no tracker, but even I can read this spoor.

AJAY Do you wish to go where the animal has been, or where the animal is?

Roland smiles. Ajay sets off in his direction and Roland follows.



Seen from a ridge above them, the hunters' convoy continues to plow through the jungle. But how the hunters themselves are being tracked, followed by the GATHERERS. They scurry along as fast as they can, trying to keep pace with the moving vehicle below.

EDDIE Why didn't you tell us about these guys, Ian?!

MALCOLM Because I didn't know! I don't have the faintest idea what they're doing here.

NICK (angry) Ruining everything, that's what they're doing. You could choke on the diesel smoke already!

SARAH Ian, nothing we observe will be valid if we're trailing along in the wake of an army.

Kelly has a pair of binoculars and is studying the vehicles as they move below.

KELLY "InGen." What's InGen?

MALCOLM Where does it say that?

KELLY On the side of that one truck.

Malcolm takes the binoculars and stares down there himself.

JUTTSON InGen is a genetics corporation, isn't it?

NICK (to Malcolm) Is that who we're really working for?! Gene splicers?!

MALCOLM No! We're an independently funded expedition.

SARAH Funded by whom?

MALCOLM John Hammond.

JUTTSON But he's the head of InGen!

NICK You gotta be kidding. (to Malcolm) You dragged me out of Greenpeace to be a corporate stooge? You couldn't get anybody else?

KELLY Yeah, what have you done, Dad?

SARAH We'd better keep moving, or we'll lose them.

The group moves on ahead, but Malcolm lingers, angry, staring through the binoculars.

MALCOLM What are you doing to me, John?



AJAY and ROLAND make their way through the foliage and come into a small clearing, where a cluster of caves is carved into the rock. Ajay freezes, gesturing ahead, to the cave on the far left.

Roland pulls up a handful of grass and releases it on the breeze. It floats back between his legs. That's good.

He proceeds toward the cave, carefully, Ajay behind him. They can see nothing beyond the yawning mouth of the cave, only a black interior.

Roland pauses, looking down. On the ground to his right he sees the partially eastern leg of a creature. It's old, crawling with white maggots and flies.

Roland continues on. Closer to the cave, he now passes the skull of a large animal, some of the flesh and green skin still adhering to the bone. It, too, is covered with flies.

Still he continues on. A short rise leads into the cave, and they edge up it. From inside the cave, they can hear an odd SQUEAKING sound, very high-pitched.

Crawling now, Roland and Ajay scale a four-foot circular rampart of dried mud, and peer into --

-- the tyrannosaur nest. It's flattered inside, about ten feet in diameter, completely encircled by earthen walls.

A BABY TYRANNOSAUR, about four and a half feet long, is in the center of the nest. It has a large head, very large eyes, and its body is covered with a fluffy red down, which gives it a scraggly appearance.

It SQUEAKS repeatedly, tearing awkwardly at the remains of a chunk of animal flesh, biting decisively with tiny, sharp teeth.

The cave itself is a foul boneyard. ANIMAL CARCASSES litter the edges, flies BUZZ in the captive air. Roland raises a bandana to his nose to cover the stench. He turns to Ajay and WHISPERS.

ROLAND It's the rex nest.

Ajay nods. The baby tyrannosaur hears the whisper and looks up, cocking its head in curiosity.

AJAY Make a blind here? Wait for the buck to return?

ROLAND (shakes his head no) If the nest is upwind, so are we. When he comes back, he'll know we're here before we have a chance. The truck --

In the nest below, the baby SQUEAKS angrily at the intruders.

ROLAND (cont'd) -- is to get him to come where we want him.

The baby SQUEAKS again, indignant. Roland turns and looks down at it. Thinking.



As the sun glows bright orange on the horizon, NICK raises a pair of binoculars to his eyes and peers down at the vista below the ridge.

In the lenses of the binoculars, we can clearly see a mixed herd of midsized herbivores -- HARDOSAURS, PACHYCEPHALOSAURS, and CALLIMIMUSES -- racing across the plain below. MALCOLM, also staring through binoculars, lies on the ridge beside him. SARAH is several feet behind them, her back pressed against a tree, unwilling to go to the lip of the ridge.


We see a shaky point of view of the herd running. The binoculars whip to the right --

-- revealing a jeep chasing the herd Not just one jeep, in fact, but a whole FLEET OF HUNTER PURSUIT VEHICLES!

There are two herding jeeps, one motorcycle, as speedier mini-jeep, and, further behind, a container truck and a wrangler's pickup truck.

Although there's a great deal of commotion below, up here it's almost eerily silent.


Nick lowers the binoculars, angry. When he raises them again, the sun FLARES off the lens --


-- and when the brilliant flare clears, we're right down in the middle of the roundup. Engines ROAR, wheels spin and dig in the dirt, men SHOUT and radios SQUAWK as the hunter vehicles pursue the fleeting herd they're flushed.

The HUNTER SHOUT and SHRIEK with glee, incredulous and thrilled by the spectacular animals they're pursuing.



One of the pursuit vehicles (a "snagger"), pulls ahead of the others. DIETER STARK stands in the passenger seat, holding a long pole with a noose dangling from the end of it.

He swings the pole out over the side of the jeep and SHOUTS to the driver.


The Driver hits the gas and the snagger leaps forward, gaining on the herd. Aware of the danger behind them, the herd veers to the right, toward the cover of thick jungle --

-- but the motorcycle ROARS in from the right side, cutting them off, herding them back out into the open.


PETER LUDLOW stands in a "conning tower," a command post in the heaviest pursuit vehicle. He BARKS into a walkie-talkie.

LUDLOW Alive, Dieter, and uninjured!


the Driver can barely keep up with the twists and feints thrown by the herd ahead of him. Dieter CURSES and throws the lasso pole into the back of the jeep. Ludlow's voice continues over the radio in Dieter's jeep.

LUDLOW (o.s.) Those are very expensive animals! Can you hear me?!

DIETER (to the Driver) Turn that off!

The Driver SNAPS off the radio as Dieter grabs a long-barreled rifle from the back of the vehicle.


guns it again, forcing the herd back into the middle of the plain. From the trees to the left, two heads on enormous necks rise up in alarm. Two APATOSAURS are startled from the bush and lumber out across the middle of the plain.

The herd doesn't even break stride, but keeps running, scampering after the giants and stampeding right between their massive legs.

One smaller pachycephalosaur bolts loose, but the motorcycle cuts it off and herds it back into the middle, which now takes the motorcycle right through the rising and falling legs of the apotosaurs.

The bike chases the pachy out the other side, and as the apatosaurs disappear into the distance, the cycle isolates the juvenile.

Another truck, a "scissor rig," spots the isolated animal. High in the back of the truck, a HUNTER mans a tranquilizer cannon, drawing a bead on the pachy as the cycle runs it down.

He FIRES and the tranquilizer dart hits the animal in the neck. Its pace slows and another HUNTER from the truck tosses a lasso around its neck.

They crank a winch, reeling in the animal.

As the truck gain on it, two six-foot padded arms with what look like heavy airbags on the insides open up on the front of the truck.

As the animal is pulled in, the scissors close with a hydraulic WHIR, trapping the animal between its airbags.

Now a pick-up rig ROARS up and drops its back gate. The scissor rig rolls forward, depositing the squirming pachy in this dino-contaiment vehicle.

Two HUNTERS throw levers on the side of the scissor bars and the scissor rig backs away, leaving the animal, still pinched between the bars, imprisoned in the back of the pick-up rig.

The Hunters quickly fit new scissor bars onto the scissor rig and it takes off, back into the hunt.


Dieter, rifle in hand, drops down into the passenger seat, whips a harness over himself and CLICKS it into place. He jabs his thumb into a flashing red button in the dashboard.

Immediately, a motor underneath the seat HUMS to life and the seat itself telescopes, extending a good four feet out to

Dieter raises the gun, picks a CARINTHOSAUR, a red-crested herbivore, from the rear of the fleeting herd, and takes aim.


The carinthosaur staggers as a tranquilizer dart sticks in its left hindquarter.


there is utter quiet. Nick and the others stare wordlessly at the spectacle below.


the snagger SHUDDERS to a halt in the dirt, kicking up a huge cloud of dust and dirt.

The motorcycle spins to a stop beside it, its DRIVER pushing his mask up to reveal his sweat and dirt-streaked face.

The wrangler truck backs up and drops its rear door, which CLANGS heavily to the ground.

FOUR WRANGLERS carrying wire noose poles and chains race down the ramp and out of the truck.

Dieter jumps off the snagger. He puts down his tranquilizer gun, picks up a long steel rod, and walks forward slowly. Ahead of him, the carinthosaur is still on its feet.

The sedated animal staggers, fighting to retain its balance while it is surrounded by the wary Wranglers.

DIETER Easy -- easy -- not too close! Full extension!

The Wranglers adjust their poles, extending them another three feet, which allows them to stay further from the reeling, ten foot tall animal.

DIETER (cont'd) Now!

Almost as one, the Wranglers flip their noose over the stunned animal's neck. It thrashes, but the Wranglers hold their poles tightly, surrounding and immobilizing it.


Nick turns away. He can't watch.


a bolero-type device, a rope with a round weight at either end, whips around the carinthosaur's legs. The animal THUDS to the dirt with a SNORT of a defeat.

Ludlow steps up next to Dieter and both of them stare down at the helpless animal. Ludlow's breathing heavily, eyes glowing.

The animal is still thrashing, pumping its legs crazily. Dieter turns a knob on the side of the steel rod he's holding and thrusts it into the defenseless animal's neck.

A blue arc of electricity CRACKS and dances over the carinthosaur's body. The animal convulses in pain, a horrible, high-pitched SQUEALING rips the air.

DR. BURKE, their paleontologist, hurries forward with a syringe.

He draws a certain amount of tranquilizer from a bottle and injects it into the animal's thigh.

CARTER, Dieter's Driver, steps up with a can of spray paint and quickly tags the animal with an ID number in day-glo orange.

Dieter pulls the card with an icon of a carinthosaur from the dashboard of the jeep and marks a black X over the drawing of the animal.

DIETER Next case.



Night has fallen over the island. The hunters have established base camp in an area they have trampled and cleared just below the ridge. Blue laser fences encircle the perimeter. Inside, half a dozen tents are set up around a central campfire.

The vehicles are all parked at one end, away from the tents. At the other end, there is a row of at least a dozen "capture containers," cages that hold the imprisoned dinosaurs they have already rounded up.

SARAH, MALCOLM, and NICK stand at the edge of the ridge above, looking down at the scene. Sarah stands a bit further back from the others, not wanting to get too close to the edge. VOICES waft up to them, raucous, LAUGHING, some even SINGING.

DR. JUTTSON has a pair of night-vision binoculars trained on the cages.

JUTTSON Carinthosaurus -- compsognathus -- triceratops -- pachycephalosaurus -- or small scavengers only.

Malcolm, also with binoculars, furrows his brow, seeing something below.


he sees PETER LUDLOW, standing in the middle of the camp, pointing, giving orders.


Malcolm drops the binoculars.

MALCOLM Ludlow. That's why Hammond was in such a hurry for me to get here. He knew they were coming.

He gives the binoculars to Sarah, who moves forward gingerly.

MALCOLM (cont'd) You okay?

SARAH (irritated) Heights, I can't help it. Put your arm here, will you?

She puts his arm around her waits, to steady her while she is close to the cliff edge.

JUTTSON What do they want?

MALCOLM They want their money back. To InGen, this island is nothing more than a bed investment.

JUTTSON We should get back to base camp. Eddie's waiting for us.

MALCOLM I can't believe Peter Ludlow's running all this.

SARAH He isn't. Check out the guy walking past the fire.

She hands the binoculars to Malcolm.


Malcolm sees ROLAND, who's walking with AJAY, weapons and equipment slung over their shoulders.

SARAH (o.s.) I've seen him before. In Brazil. He and that guy with him were spearhunting jaguars. Said it was immoral to go after them any other way. He's not just a hunter, he's a philosopher. Kind of guy who beats you up with your own argument.


SARAH (cont'd) He's the one in charge.

MALCOLM Well, if that's true -- the man in charge just left camp.

Nick, who has been quietly fuming next to them, now steps forward.

NICK Then this is our chance.

MALCOLM Our chance to do what?

NICK I don't know these guys, but I know 'em. I've seen 'em on Japanese whalers, French barges trying to dump barrels of nuclear waste in the North Atlantic. They're all the same. They spray us with water cannon when we try to stop 'em, sink our boats, and then call us crazy.

He rummages through his pack, coming up with various tools. A hunting knife. A bolt cutter.

NICK (cont'd) Nobody has to come with me. I've done this before.

SARAH Why, Nick. You are a tree-hugger.

He looks at her, hurt.

NICK There' no reason for name calling.

MALCOLM Dr. Juttson, please take Kelly back to camp right away. Leave the other car for us and we'll meet you there in an hour or so.

KELLY What are you guys gonna do?

MALCOLM (signs) Exactly what John Hammond wanted us to do.



In the hunters' supply tent, a case of twelve-year-old scotch sits open amid crate after crate of weapons and ammunition. PETER LUDLOW reaches in and pulls a bottle out.


In the jungle, LUDLOW approaches a small clearing. ROLAND is bent over a small stake in the ground, chaining something to it. As Ludlow approaches and walks around him, he sees what protest. Roland looks up.

ROLAND Offering a little incentive.

Ludlow laughs and shakes his head. He takes a drink and offers Roland one. Roland accepts. Ludlow notices Roland's gun leaning against a tree.

LUDLOW What kind of gun is that?

ROLAND My father's .600 Nitro Express. Made in 1904. Karimojo Bell gave it to him after he took down his last elephant. 8700 foot pound striking force.

LUDLOW How close do you have to be?

ROLAND Forty yards. Less, maybe. I assume it'll take a slug in the brain case to bring him down.

LUDLOW Why not just use a scope and a poison dart and snipe him from a hill?

Roland just looks at him.

ROLAND Or a laser beam from a satellite?

Ludlow leans down, close to the baby rex, and examines it while it thrashes on its chain. Its mouth has been bound shut with a leather strap.

LUDLOW You rally think this'll draw the parent?

ROLAND I once saw a bull elephant die charging a jeep. All the jeep had done was startle the bull's calves. I saw a lioness carry wounded prey four and a half miles, all the way back to its den, just to teach its cubs how to finish off a kill.

LUDLOW Killing lessons? Heartwarming.

ROLAND Rex won't be any different. It'll come.

LUDLOW You're kidding yourself. An adult T-rex cares about one thing -- filling its own belly. It acts the way people wish they could, that's why everyone's fascinated by it. If people had the chance to see one dinosaur and one only, ninety-nine percent would --

He stops, an idea on his face.

LUDLOW (cont'd) Wait. Why not? Sedatives... growth inhibitors...


LUDLOW I hadn't planned on bringing carnivores back because of the liability risk, but I only thought of adults, it never occurred to me -- (close to the animal) You are a billion dollar idea, my little f-

CRACK! The tyrannosaur, even with its jaws clamped shut, lunges at Ludlow's face, head-butting him right across the bridge of the nose. Ludlow staggers back, WAITING in pain, clutching his bleeding face.

Roland laughs. Ludlow, like an enraged child, snatches up Roland's gun and brings the butt down viciously on the rex's leg. The bone breaks with a dry SNAP and the animal HOWLS in pain.

Roland lunges and throws Ludlow to the ground, but the damage is done.

ROLAND What the hell you do that for?!

As his pain eases, Ludlow feels a bit foolish, but he attempts to cover.

LUDLOW Had to. To keep him still for the trip.

ROLAND You've broken its leg!

LUDLOW We've got to transport it seven thousand miles. Would you prefer it bit off the leg of a crew member?

He gets up, brushes himself off, and heads back to the camp, trying to salvage his dignity. Roland watches him go.



At the edge of the hunters' camp, NICK, SARAH, and MALCOLM scramble down a hillside and stop at the edge of the laser barriers. There are three beams, each about two feet apart, the tallest almost six feet off the ground.

Nick reaches the edge and crouches. Sarah, helped by Malcolm, steps up onto his back and jumps over the top, landing with a CRUNCH. Nick is next, given a boost by Malcolm, who is then left alone on the other side.

He backs up a few steps, jogs right at the lasers, then springs off his good leg --

-- and does the Fosburry Flop right over the top. He lands with a THUD, to the silent admiration of the other two.


the three of them creep along, hiding behind a stack of fuel barrels. They lean around the edge for a look. They're directly behind the row of vehicle.

They move, into the open, covering the ground between them and the jeeps. Reaching them, Nick hits the dirt and wriggles under the first one. Malcolm and Sarah stand lookout.


Nick pulls the bolt cutter from his back pocket. He squirms along until he finds the jeep's fuel line --

-- and he snips it. He ducks out of the way just as the stream of fuel begins to pour into the dirt.


move slowly down the line, standing watch as Nick crawls out from under the first jeep and proceeds to the second. They hear another SNIP, then keep moving, to cover him as he moves to the third.

From in the distance, Malcolm hears a sound, a faint, high-pitched SCREECHING. He turns and looks to that direction.


It's the baby T-rex, still SCREENING. Up in a nearby tree, ROLAND and AJAY have spread some broken branches crosswise to form a high hide of their own about ten feet off the ground.

They wait.

Roland raises his binoculars. The light of the camp spills all the way out here, illuminating some of the jungle. He scans it, searching for any sign of movement.


Back in the camp, Sarah, Malcolm, and Nick have finished with all of the vehicles except the badly battered one, which is parked some distance away, undergoing repairs. The motor pool area is now a soggy lake of spilled gasoline.

The saboteurs walk casually across the camp, unnoticed in the drunken revelry. They pass several tents, the shadows of the partiers visible as they move inside.

They continue across the camp and arrive at the other side --

-- to face the caged animals. The carinthosaur that was tranquilized earlier stands there dully, eyes heavy and glassy, still under the effects. They pass a stegosaur, its row of fine bristling.

And finally they reach the largest cage, which houses a triceratops the size of a pickup truck, Nick pulls out his trusty bolt cutters. He looks at them, a glint in his eye.

NICK Hang on. We may encounter some turbulence.


In one of the hunter tents, PETER LUDLOW leans over the satellite recon pictures of the island, planning the next day's assault with DIETER and DR. BURKE, their paleontologist. There are small wooden dinosaur models scattered around the photos, indicating where certain species can be found.

BURKE If you're really interested in infants, we'll have better luck at the seaside, because the sands offer a cushioning surface where the egg clutches can -- can --

He trails off. A low RUMBLING sound can be heard outside, and the little wooden dinosaurs start shaking on the board.

They look at each other. The RUMBLING gets louder. Outside, someone SHOUTS; on the board, the little dinosaurs start hopping and bouncing from the vibrations, the SHOUTS outside turn to SCREAMS, they turn and look at the back of the tent --

-- and the triceratops bursts right through the canvas!


HUNTERS go flying as the tent-covered triceratops, its horns tearing through the canvas, RUMBLES across the camp. Men SHOUT in alarm, the triceratops BELLOWS in anger and confusion, chaos reigns.

In the crush of PEOPLE running every which way, MALCOLM and SARAH are swept off in one direction while NICK is buffeted in another. They SHOUT, but cannot be heard over the frey.

The triceratops, blinded by the canvas shroud, stomps right through the fire in the middle of the camp AND THE TENT BURSTS INTO FLAME.

Now really upset, the animal panics and lashes out in all directions, blasting through tents, demolishing and/or setting ablaze anything that gets in its way. Its considerable hindquarters SLAM into a parked jeep, sending it rolling across the camp.

The jeep flattens the largest tent and SLAMS down on its side. Its broken gas line SPRAYS gas over the ground, the gas hits one of the dozens of small blazes the triceratops has left in its wake, and the flame shoots up the ribbon of gas.

The jeep explodes.


Roland and Ajay, up in the tree, leap to their feet as a fireball rises up from the camp in the distance.

ROLAND What in God's -- !


the rest of the newly-freed animals now storm through the camp. The blue laser barriers bounce crazily and go out as the sending units are trampled underfoot by the fleeing animals.




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