>>/ Predator

/ Predator ( 2)

: / Predator.

/ Predator



approaches Billy, gripping his shoulders and in a hoarse whisper, speaks his name.

SCHAEFER What is it...?

Billy, rigid, does not respond. Schaefer forcefully jerks his around to face him.

SCHAEFER Billy...What the hell's wrong with you?

BILLY (low) Something...in the trees...

71 EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY 71

Still closing in on Billy. Billy turns back, looking high into the trees, puzzled and frightened. He's lost sense of the Hunter's presence. He lowers his vision, looking towards the Hunter, now on the ground, 30 yards across the clearing from Billy. The Hunter pauses.


BILLY (whispers) Can you see anything... (points) ...there?

Schaefer stares hard at the jungle.

SCHAEFER It's...nothing...

73 EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY 73

Moves behind a broad fern, skirting around Billy and Schaefer, heading away from the column.


Schaefer shakes his head, continuing to stare into the jungle. He turns to Billy.

SCHAEFER What do you think...?


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86 48 * 74 CONTINUED: 74

Billy turns, a puzzled look in his eyes. He nods in agreement.

BILLY It's nothing...


Sensing the danger has passed, Ramirez releases his grip on Anna. As they start to rise, Ramirez sheaths his knife and unslings his MP-5. Anna still stares hard into the jungle.

Suddenly, without even looking, Anna with the trained reflexes of an experienced fighter swings the BURL with all her might, catching Ramirez hard on the side of the head, just above the eye, opening a wicked gash. Spinning around she knees him brutally in the groin. As Ramirez goes down, doubled over in pain, Anna turns, scrambling up the embankment, running for the jungle.

Ramirez CRIES out.


HEARING Ramirez' cry, Schaefer signals to Hawkins to move. Hawkins moves out, fast, heading towards the sound...


SEES Anna running away. He gives chase.

Anna, although bound, is light and fit and runs fast, hurdling fallen logs and branches, charging through the undergrowth. SHe has a good start.

Hawkins, hampered by the radio and weapon but in tremendous shape, thunders after her, closing the distance.

78 EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY 78

As he passes from behind a large tree, surrounded by dense foliage, SEEING the fleeing Anna. He watches her and then begins to move parallel with her, only faster, the green of the jungle rushing by in a blur.


Anna, bursting through a grove of ferns, drives on, breathing hard with the exertion.




Hawkins, ten yards behind, closing the distance, taking advantage of any hesitation Anna makes, struggling with the dense jungle.

Anna hits a small clearing, an alleyway through the trees. She sprints hard across the clear ground.

80 EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY 80

Moving through the jungle. As he steps clear of the foliage he SEES Anna driving hard into the alleyway, running directly towards him. Twenty yards away, Hawkins, closes in.


Only a few feet behind Anna, lunges forward, knocking her to the ground. In a second he's on her, his weapon ready. She struggles to her feet, fighting, gasping for breath. Hawkins holds the MP-5 on her, looking at her, almost pleading. He doesn't want to shoot her, but he will if he has to.

HAWKINS Please...

She looks at the weapon, to Hawkins and then, hopefully, to the jungle. She stops, staring hard down the alleyway. Something...suddenly she sees it!

ANNA (in Spanish) Look out, behind you!!!

Hawkins spins...


SEEING the MOTTLED OUTLINE of the Hunter's body, racing towards them, as if the entire wall of the jungle were rushing in. The Hunter's WEAPON flares to life.


As he hurtles towards them, their faces frozen in surprise.


A splitting THUD as Hawkins is hurtled backwards into the undergrowth, the Hunter's hand and WEAPON flashing


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86 50 * 84 CONTINUED: 84

through the air. BLOOD splashes on Anna's face. She SCREAMS as Hawkins' MP-5 FIRES a short BURST into the air.


HEARING the GUNFIRE, Schaefer WHISTLES low and sharp. Ramirez, face bloody, swings into action, moving in a coordinated defensive/offensive pattern into the jungle.


The Hunter's ARM and SPUR hook into Hawkins' leg, and he is dragged into the jungle.


Ramirez runs forward ten paces, drops to a crouch, scanning to each side. Immediately Schaefer runs forward twenty paces. As he passes Ramirez, Ramirez turns and scans the rear and flanks.

Dillon, Mac and Blain repeat the maneuver, leap-frogging forward, canvassing the jungle, providing areas of intersection cover.


Entering the alleyway where Hawkins was killed he SEES Anna, cowering in the bushes, her blood splattered face glazed with terror, his eyes vacant. He approaches, angry, wary, but the girl is so stunned. He SEES the trail of BLOOD and CRUSHED GRASSES leading into the jungle. He gives a LOW WHISTLE and then moves on, the rest of the team assuming defensive positions around the clearing.

He follows the trail, finding first Hawkins' blood-covered weapon, and then, a few yards later, the radio. Ramirez cautiously parts the brush before him. A look of puzzlement and then revulsion comes of his face.


Blain and Mac at either end, cautiously searching the jungle; Billy covering their flanks.




Schaefer and Dillon approach Anna. She seems unaware of their presence, staring numbly ahead. Schaefer checks her out, looking for wounds, he wipes some of the blood from her face.

SCHAEFER It's not her blood.

Ramirez emerges from the jungle carrying Hawkins' MP-5 and radio. He approaches, dumping the equipment on the ground.

RAMIREZ Major, you'd better take a look at this.


RAMIREZ (oddly) I can't tell.


Dillon in the b.g., as Ramirez parts the brush with his weapon. Before them, covered with dirt and leaves, are Hawkins' ENTRAILS. There is no body.

SCHAEFER (shocked) What in God's name...?

RAMIREZ I think it's Hawkins.

SCHAEFER Where the hell is his body?

RAMIREZ There's no sign of it.


The entire team is gathered, still holding defensive positions. Anna, still stunned, is beginning to come around. She looks up at Schaefer. He turns to Ramirez.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86 52 * 91 CONTINUED: 91

SCHAEFER Ramirez, ask her what happened.

Ramirez drops to one knee and talks softly to her in SPANISH. She mutters incoherently in Spanish, still dazed, shaking her head. Dillon listens closely to her response. Ramirez turns to Schaefer. He seems confused.

RAMIREZ She says...the jungle came alive, and took him...

DILLON That isn't what she said... she said... (pondering; to Ramirez) ...she doesn't make sense.

RAMIREZ (growing angry) Couple of sappers been trailing us all the way from the camp, Major. Billy heard them. She set us up, ran for it...They were waiting. I should've wasted the bitch when I had the chance.

Schaefer, looking at Hawkins' bloodstained equipment lying at Anna's feet, looks up.

SCHAEFER (quietly) Why didn't they take the radio and his weapon? (pause) Why didn't she escape?

Ramirez and Dillon look at the equipment and then to the girl, still numb with shock.

DILLON (grimly; remembering) They did the same thing to Davis...



91 CONTINUED: (2) 91

The two veteran commandos look at each other, finding no explanation between them.

SCHAEFER (urgent; to the others) I want him found. Sweep pattern and double back. Fifty meters.

They move out. Schaefer moves into the jungle, searching. He crouches at the base of a huge MAHOGANY TREE, covered with vines, studying the jungle. He moves away from the tree and into the forest, looking for signs on the ground.

Where he was sitting, a DROP OF BLOOD falls. Another drop falls, dripping from a leaf and above that, from another leaf. Above that, high in the top of the tree, SUSPENDED from vines from his ankles, is HAWKINS' BODY, his chest a gaping wound.

He hands there as if he were an animal, field dressed.

92 EXT. BLAIN - DAY 92

Crouched in the undergrowth. There is a movement in the brush before him. He wipes the sweat from his eyes and clicks his safety on the Mini-gun to fire.

The SOUND is growing closer. Blain levels the weapon. A smile crosses his face.

BLAIN (whispers) Come on in you fuckers...come on in. 'ol 'painless' is waitin'...

The movement in the brush is GROWING LOUDER. Blain's finger moves closer to the trigger.

Suddenly a small TAPIR bursts through the leaves, startling Blain. He relaxes momentarily as he watches the animal scurrying from sight. He stands...




SOMETHING grazes his shoulder, a gout of BLOOD erupting. He starts to turn, the Mini-gun held low, ready to fire...

...from out of the jungle, 75 feet away, the Hunter's WEAPON streaks toward him like a missile. He SCREAMS as it enters his back, erupting from his chest in an EXPLOSION of BLOOD.

93 EXT. MAC - DAY 93

Has heard Blain's cry. He moves fast through the brush. He HEARS a RUSTLING in the bushes. A wet SUCKING SOUND. Mac charges into the clearing. In the instant before the Hunter disappears into the forest, Mac SEES a vision so brief and fantastic that it seems like a hallucination.

The Hunter's EYES flare momentarily from the green before they vanish.

Mac sees his friend, lying on the ground, his chest open, the powerful man, dead.

MAC (shouting) Contact, 30 Right!!!

He OPENS FIRE with his M-203, belted shells slamming into the weapon from the magazine at his waist, expending it in one LONG BURST.


Flying through the jungle, weapons ready, eyes searching for movement.

95 EXT. MAC - DAY 95

He throws down the weapon and with a cry of rage, lunges forward, grabbing the Mini-gun. As he stands, the CARTRIDGE BELT, attached to Blain, strings out between them.

He opens FIRE and the foliage before him EXPLODES with the fury of the terrible weapon. Mac sweeps the Mini-gun from left to right, like a man possessed, mowing down the jungle.

The other team members race INTO SIGHT and begin firing with Mac.


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86 55


Ramirez opens FIRE with the SIX-SHOOTER grenade launcher...EXPLOSIONS rock the jungle.


Moving. A piece of SHRAPNEL cuts his shoulder. A splash of ORANGE BLOOD spatters across the LEAVES of a nearby tree, bullet holes ripping through the surrounding foliage.


More FIRING. Mac, his weapon expended, continues to thrust the Mini-gun forward, still squeezing the trigger.

Suddenly, as quickly as it started, THE FIRING STOPS. The men move catlike into the jungle, reloading, searching, their nerves taut, stretched to the limit, ready to fire again at any second.

Mac is frozen, eyes wide, unblinking, his breath coming in rapid gasps as he stares into the jungle, still squeezing the trigger of the weapon, its breech locked open, GUNSMOKE wafting from the chamber and barrel.

Schaefer moves in front of Mac, still staring into the jungle. Dillon pushes Anna into the clearing, moving towards the body. Anna looks at the body and then up to Mac. Schaefer sees a terrifying moment of recognition flash in her eyes as she continues to stare at Mac. He turns to Mac.

MAC (confused) I...saw it.

At these words, Anna reacts in shock, drawing a * slight breath. Schaefer turns, sees her staring at * Mac. He turns back.

SCHAEFER You saw what?

MAC (still dazed) I saw it.

Schaefer turns back to see Anna, staring fixidly at Mac, * watching his lips. Schaefer turns quickly to Blain's * body and kneels alongside Dillon.


is at Blain's side, shocked at the sight of the mutilated body. He is joined by Dillon.




SCHAEFER (to himself) Blain... (puzzled) ...Just like the others...no powder burns, no shrapnel.

DILLON The wound all fused, cauterized...what the hell did this?

Schaefer stands, looking at the body. In the b.g. Anna drifts away from the group.

SCHAEFER (to Mac) ...Mac!

Mac stares ahead, dumbly, not hearing. He grabs Mac by his shoulders, shaking him violently back to awareness.

SCHAEFER (demanding; angry) Mac! Mac! Look at me!

Mac turn to face Schaefer, a shocked expression on his face.

SCHAEFER (urgent) Mac, who did this?

Mac is suddenly angry and frustrated, he has no explanation.

MAC I don't know. Goddamn it, something...I saw something/.

Ramirez runs from the jungle, breathing hard, shaking his head.

RAMIREZ Nothing. The same thing. Not a fucking trace. No bodies, blood, anything.



98 CONTINUED: (2) 98

Mac stands. Instinctively the team has now grouped around Schaefer, their weapons pointing into the jungle, ready, their nerves on total edge. Schaefer looks upward at the darkening sky.

SCHAEFER (quietly) We're losing the light. Mac, I want a defensive position above this ridge, mined with everything we're got.

Man is again the hardened professional.

MAC Yessir.

Schaefer looks down at Blain's body. He turns to Ramirez and Billy.

SCHAEFER Put him in his poncho and liner and carry him back. We'll bury him in the morning.

MAC I'll take him.

99 ANNA 99

as they leave approaches the brush, her attention focused on something clinging to the leaves, well off to the side of where Mac saw the Hunter. She draws closer, reaching out, hesitant, as if drawn magnetically to the leaves.


Clinging to the leaves, thick, viscous, pale-orange, almost like the sap of an exotic plant. Her fingers hover above it, hesitantly, and then touch it.

101 ANNA 101

examines the blood, transfixed. Dillon appears at her shoulder, startling her. He motions for her to return. She turns, wiping the blood onto her pants leg.


The team is dug into the foxholes in a dense grove of trees, a solid wall to their backs. The men are barely visible they blend in so well.



102 CONTINUED: 102

Nearby, Mac is stringing a TRIP WIRE, low to the ground, covering it with leaves and grass. He moves into camp and reports to Schaefer.

MAC We've got most of the flares, frags. and two claymores just outside. Nothin's comin' close to here without trippin' on somethin'.

SCHAEFER Thank you, Sergeant.

Mac starts to go but Schaefer places his hand on his shoulder.

SCHAEFER I'm sorry, Bull. It's never easy. He was a good soldier.

MAC (hardened) The best friend I ever had.

Mac turns and walks through the camp, stopping beside a DARK OBJECT on the ground. He kneels beside the PONCHO pulling back the zipper REVEALING Blain's face, looking peaceful in death, as if lying in state.

Mac removes something from his pocket, holding it in his hand, studying it.


The small WHISKEY FLASH, the chrome rubbed away in places REVEALING the brass beneath and a MEDALLION depicting the 101 1ST AIRBORNE DIVISION.

104 MAC 104

takes a tiny sip from the flask. He replaces the cap and lifts the flap of Blain's shirt pocket, placing the flask inside. He lingers on the face and then closes the zipper.

MAC (softly) Good-bye, Bro.


105 ANNA 105

is huddles into a foxhole, her hands still tied in front of her. She looks down at her pants leg. The Hunter's BLOODSTAIN glows with a faint luminosity. She places her fingers near the stain.


Hawkins' BODY impacts the floor with a THUMP.


A momentary HUSH falls over the symphony of night sounds. Anna and Billy turn towards the trees with a growing look of wariness. The others, setting up the RADIO, show no response.


The Hunter's foot steps on the upper leg of the corpse, the PREHENSILE SPUR digging deep, pinioning the body to the ground. The Hunter's HAND extends, his FINGERS puncturing the skin at the base of the spine, gripping the vertebrae.

With otherworldly strength the arm pulls, the entire SPINAL COLUMN ripping free from the body, a sickly SNAPPING and POPPING of cartilage separating from bone and tissue.


Ramirez is tuning in the compact FIELD RADIO, equipped with a CRYPTO-PHONE device. Dillon holds the handset.

DILLON (to phone) Blazer One, say again...

A CRACKLE of STATIC over the radio.

BLAZER ONE (voice over) Red Fox, I say again. Your request for extraction denied. Your area still compromised. Proceed to Sector 3000 for prisoner extraction, Priority Alpha. Next contact at 1030 hours.


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86 60 * 109 CONTINUED: 109

DILLON (to phone; angry) Roger, Blazer One. 1030 hours...damn, bastards.

He puts down the phone, turning to the group, huddled together in a tight circle, Ramirez and Billy facing outward in defensive positions, Anna, silent, watching. Schaefer is look at him.

DILLON (angry; shocked) We're still too far in, they won't risk coming in for us.

SCHAEFER Expendable assets, Dillon. Seems Langley is never around when you need them.

DILLON I can accept that, it comes with the job.

SCHAEFER Bullshit. You're just like the rest of us.

Dillon glares back. Schaefer leaves, lost in thought. Ramirez looks up at the impenetrable canopy.

RAMIREZ Shit load o' good a chopper'd do us in here anyway.

Dillon turns to Mac.

DILLON Mac. Who hit us today?

Mac is still obviously feeling the anger and bitterness of the mystifying event.

MAC Don't know, only saw one of 'em. Camouflaged. He was there... (remembering) ...Those fucking eyes...


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86 61 * 109 CONTINUED: (2) 109

DILLON (abruptly; pushing) What, Sergeant?

MAC (returning; angry) Those eyes...disappeared. But I know one thing, Major... (pause) ...I drew down and fired right at it. Capped-off two hundred rounds and then the Mini-gun; the full pack. Nothin'...nothin' on this earth could have lived...not at that range.

Dillon ponders this for a moment, staring hard at Mac. Mac gets up.

MAC I've got the first watch.

Mac departs. Dillon watches Mac as he creeps forward to the sentry position. He turns to Ramirez.

DILLON Ask her again. What did she see? What happened to Hawkins?

Ramirez turns to Anna. They talk quietly in Spanish, Dillon watching, listening carefully. Ramirez turns back to Dillon.

RAMIREZ (interpreting) She says the same thing... It was the jungle...

Ramirez looks up at Billy who continues to stare into the jungle, aware, catlike, reacting to every sound, his nerves on edge, as if ready to snap. Ramirez rises, moves alongside his friend, Dillon watching closely.


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86 62 * 109 CONTINUED: (3) 109

RAMIREZ (whispering; imploring) You know something Billy, what is it?

Billy turns, his face a mask of primal fear. He moves close to Ramirez.

BILLY I'm scared.

Ramirez is frightened by this.

RAMIREZ (shaken) Bullshit. You ain't afraid of no man.

Billy looks deep into his eyes, chilling Ramirez to the bone, looking at his with eyes which have seen on an instinctual level what the others have so far only begun to sense.

BILLY There's something out there, waiting for us...it ain't no man.

Billy turns away, moving a short distance away, taking up his position. Dillon looks after him and then into the blackness of the jungle canopy. Dillon speaks to Ramirez.

DILLON He's losing his cool. There's nothing out there but a couple of men that we're going to have to take down.

Despite his words, there is an edge of doubt in his voice. Schaefer returns. He's overheard this exchange. He's holding the group of DOG TAGS taken from Davis' men. He holds them up for Dillon to see.

SCHAEFER You still don't get it, do you Dillon? He took Davis... and now he wants us.



CLOSE ON an oval CHAMBER made of an otherworldly looking metal with a strange copperlike patina, its interior bathed in INTENSE BLUE LIGHT. In the chamber is Hawkins' SKULL CAP and SPINAL COLUMN still attached.

The light field suddenly changes as all connective tissue, flesh and blood and drawn away from the bony structures with incredible force, disintegrating as they rush toward the sides of the chamber.

The light changes in frequency to a dull glow as the Hunter's hands remove the GLAZED, POLISHED trophy from the chamber. He turns, carefully placing it upon a GLOWING SURFACE. He touches the trophy gently, feeling its texture, as a man might touch the hide of a big cat. He pulls his hand away and instantly an opaque FORCE FIELD covers the trophies.

111 EXT. MAC - NIGHT (LATER) 111

Hunched down in a foxhole, the Mini-gun on a tripod before him. It's nearly a FULL MOON, the jungle a montage of SHADOWS AND REFLECTIONS. Mac stares into the night, his eyes always moving.

MAC (distant; whispering) It's the same kinda jungle, Bro, same moon... everything... (pause) ...a real number ten night. Remember Bro? Only you and me, the only one's out of the whole fuckin' platoon who made it out.

His eyes probe the darkness, remembering.

MAC ...we walked out on top of 'em. Not a scratch, not a fuckin' scratch. (spits into the night) No fuckin' chili-choker got to you, Bro...you were just too good...

He ponders this a moment.



111 CONTINUED: 111

MAC ...I promise you this, Bro... whoever he is, I hope he's plannin' to hit us again... (pauses; spits) ...'cause he's got my name on 'em.


A FORCE FIELD that permeates the jungle, becoming one with the trees and foliage. The Hunter walks down a CORRIDOR of SOLID LIGHT, leading to an opening to the jungle. As the Hunter reaches the doorway he changes from visible to invisible, moving on into the night.


The mist has thickened, the night alive with a million JUNGLE SOUNDS. The team members sleep uneasily, if at all.

Mac, although weary, stares hard into the night, waiting, each small sound a potential enemy. A LULL spreads over the jungle, animals and insects QUIETING. Mac tightens his grip on the Mini-gun.

Billy awakens, peering into the night. Nothing.

Suddenly, a metallic CLICK, a POP, the SOUND of a warning flare rocketing into the canopy. A moment later a brilliant FLASH as the flare burns, illuminating the camp.

An echoing eerie SCREAM fills the night as a DARK SHAPE in the mist rockets through the undergrowth towards Mac.

Mac spins, hauling the heavy gun around, just as something crashes into his upper body, driving the huge man into the foxhole.

A desperate battle for life ensues, illuminated with the strobing light of the descending flare. Mac's enraged SHOUTS and ROARS mingled with horrific SCREAMS fill the night.

Mac's razor-edged KNIFE slashes in the light; BLOOD spatters his face as he attacks fiercely.



113 CONTINUED: 113

Schaefer and Ramirez rush at a crouching run towards the foxhole, their weapons ready.

A tremendous climatic SCREAM from the foxhole AND THEN, SILENCE. Schaefer and Ramirez approach, cautiously. Mac stands, his face and clothes drenched in blood, some of it his, his breath coming in rapid gasps. He looks at Schaefer, whispering hoarsely.

MAC Got the motherfucker...

As the flare breaks through the canopy, dying out in great flickering bursts, the man stare down into the foxhole. A huge, jungle BOAR lies mutilated in a pool of blood, still quivering in the final throes of death. The flare dies out.

Mac, shaking from adrenalin, breathing heavily, looks down at the dying animal.

MAC (incredulous) A pig...just a fucking pig...

Schaefer shines his TEKNA-LIGHT onto the boar, playing the light along its massive hulk, its razor edges tusks gleaming in the light. Ramirez appears by his side, looking down at the huge carcass.

RAMIREZ Holy shit, Mac.

Nearby, unnoticed by the men, Anna stoops, her hands still bound, picking up an MP-5 from the ground. She turns, looking for an avenue of escape, running for the jungle.

But the forest looks foreboding and sinister. She stops, staring at the jungle, the moonlight reflected off leaves like a thousand eyes. For a brief second she imagines she can see the Hunter's eyes, crashing towards her, the shifting patterns of light and dark making the jungle seem to strobe, like it is about to rush in at her. She freezes, paralyzed by fear, by her memories of the attack.

She drops the MP-5 to the ground.

Back at the foxhole, Schaefer and Ramirez help the still shaken Mac from the hole. Schaefer looks at Mac, at the huge gash across his chest.



113 CONTINUED: (2) 113

SCHAEFER Get a field dressing on that right away.

Suddenly he remembers, Anna.

SCHAEFER Where's the girl?

They all turn, ready to move and then stop. Coming forth from the shadows Anna appears, still frightened, seeking the security of the soldiers.

From the darkness nearby, Billy's VOICE in a hoarse WHISPER.

BILLY (o.s.; urgently) Major, over here.

Schaefer turns, apprehensive, something in Billy's voice...

He walks over to Billy, standing with a FLASHLIGHT pointing to the ground. They see Blain's BODY BAG slashed open, covered in blood. Ramirez appears.

BILLY The body...it's gone.

RAMIREZ Came in through the trip wires, took it right out from under our noses...

Anna appears between Schaefer and Ramirez, staring down at the empty, blood-soaked body bag. She looks up, into Schaefer's eyes.


A patchy GROUND FOG covers the area. Anna, in her foxhole, awakens, LISTENING to the rising SOUNDS of the jungle. MONKEYS begin to forage, their noisy CHATTERING and SCREECHING filling the air.

A BIRD flutters back to its nest; a CHAMELEON emerges onto a leaf, directly above Anna's head.


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 5/6/86 67

114 CONTINUED: 114

Anna carefully extends her arm, allowing the lizard to crawl onto her, watching, fascinated as it changes colors. She carefully places the chameleon back on the leaf, which changes color again, becoming nearly invisible.

Near the empty PONCHO, Schaefer, Billy and Ramirez are examining the ground and the trip wire to the flare. Billy stands, turns to Schaefer.

BILLY Boar set off the trip flare, Major. No other tracks.

Schaefer kneels and examines the thin, well hidden WIRE. He stands, looking around the camp.

RAMIREZ How could anyone get through this, carry Blain out, right * under our noses without leavin' * a trace?

SCHAEFER He knows our defenses. * * RAMIREZ Why didn't he try to kill one of us last night?

Schaefer looks at him.

SCHAEFER He came back for the body. (pause) He's killing us, one at a time...

Schaefer turns and looks at Billy, asking with his eyes for a viable explanation.

BILLY Like a Hunter. *

Schaefer stares at him, the words sinking in. He * looks up, reconstructing in his mind the possible * events of last night, his eyes following the tree line, * tracing the path of the intruder as he might have * travelled through the trees and down to the ground. * He looks up at Billy.

SCHAEFER He uses the trees. *


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 5/6/86 68

114 CONTINUED: (2) 114

Billy and Ramirez stare up at the trees, a wave of fear * passing through them...from the trees. Schaefer turns, * moving to where Dillon is guarding Anna, sitting on the ground. Reaching down, Schaefer pulls her firmly to her feet, looking at her intensely.

SCHAEFER Yesterday. What did you see?

She stares back at him.

DILLON You're wastin' your time.

SCHAEFER No more games.

She looks at him a long moment, and then answers in English.

ANNA I don't know what it was. It...

Dillon does a double take. Schaefer continues to look * at Anna. He wasn't surprised: he knew it yesterday. *


ANNA It changes colors, like the chameleon. It uses the jungle...

DILLON (derisively) Shit, you trying to tell me Blain and Hawkins were killed by a fucking lizard? Don't listen to her. Its's a psych-job. Two, maybe three of them, that's * all. We keep our cool, out-think * them 'til we're across the * border... *

Ignoring him, Schaefer takes her hands, drawing his COMMANDO KNIFE, looking squarely into her eyes.

SCHAEFER What's you name?

She looks back into his eyes.


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 5/6/86 69

114 CONTINUED: (3) 114

ANNA Anna.

SCHAEFER Anna. He's hunting us. You know that?

She nods. With a sudden movement he slices through her bonds.

DILLON What the hell do you think you're doing?

SCHAEFER We're going to need everyone. *

DILLON What are you talking about? We'll be out of here in ten * minutes. *

SCHAEFER We're not going. *

DILLON That rendezvous is ten maybe * twelve miles, at most! We're * almost home. But the chopper * won't wait.

Schaefer turns to face him.

SCHAEFER Dillon...This thing doesn't * care who we are, who she is. We make a stand or there won't * be anyone left to make that * chopper.

Dillon stares back, not wanting to hear what he already knows to be true.

Anna touches Schaefer's arm.

ANNA There is something else. When the big man was killed, you must have wounded it. (pause) It's blood was on the leaves.


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 5/6/86 70 * 114 CONTINUED: (4) 114

She touches her pant leg, the stain is faded but still there. Schaefer turns to Dillon.

SCHAEFER If it bleeds, we can kill it.


Anna at the base of the rocks scans the jungle with binoculars watching the tree line. Mac moves past her, uncoiling a trip wire linking up four CLAYMORE mines hidden at various points with leaves and foliage. In a tree at the edge of the clearing, Billy tosses an uncoiling roll of wire to Ramirez who attaches it to a GRENADE, wedged it the crouch of a tree.

Wires attached to GRENADES and CLAYMORE MINES lead off through the underbrush and trees leaving a long, unmined corridor leading from the camp and into the jungle.

At the corridor's end, where the rocks merge with the jungle, Schaefer hauls down on a HEAVY VINE, straining with every ounce of strength, his muscles bulging, while Dillon takes up the slack of the vine


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86 71

115 CONTINUED: 115

around the base of a tree. The vine is attached to a forty foot SAPLING, arcing closer to the ground in a gigantic bow with every pull, CREAKING and GROANING with tension. With a last mighty heave, Schaefer draws the tree almost within reach, gesturing to Dillon to * tie it off, who does. *

DILLON (straining) I'm tellin' you, this little * 'boy scout' stunt is a * Godamned waste of time. * (stands) * We've got to get the hell out * of here, now, while we've still * got the chance.

Ignoring him, Schaefer rapidly drags into position a NET crudely woven of differing sizes of vines, their LEAVES still attached. He carefully begins to cover the net with leaves and debris. Dillon watches him in growing frustration as Schaefer moves quickly, picking up a FRAMEWORK of STICKS he has tied together, a TREADLE-SPRING TRIGGER. He holds up the framework, hurriedly examining his work before placing it on the ground.

SCHAEFER He'll be looking for the trip wires. If we're lucky, he won't see this.

DILLON Now what, Dutch. You going to send your mystery guest an invitation?

Schaefer turns, there is a touch of fear in Dillon's eyes.

SCHAEFER You're catching on, Dillon.

Schaefer returns to his work on the net and trigger. *

REVISED - "HUNTER" - 1/30/87 72 * 116 EXT. ENCAMPMENT - DAY (LATER) 116

Morning passes. Fog lifts as the sun creeps into the jungle. Insects swarm and are fed upon by BIRDS and other predators.

At the entranceway to the rock outcropping, the net and trigger are hidden beneath the leaves, the framework of the trigger bulging with tension from the straining vine attached to the bent tree.

At the other end of the corridor, several meters above the jungle floor, Schaefer and his team, heavily camouflaged, nearly invisible, lie hidden, waiting. The team members, as if hypnotized by the BUZZING din, stare into the jungle, fixated, alert.

ANNA while waiting at the net:

ANNA (hushed) When I was little we find a man -- (she struggles for the words) -- like a butcher. The old ones in the village cross themselves and whisper crazy things. 'Demonio, cazador de trofoes...Only the hottest times of the hottest years...' Crazy things...This year is grows hot. And we begin finding our men. We find them sometimes without their skin. Sometimes...much, much worse. Cazador de trofoes...means the demon who takes trophies.

SLOW RACK TO Schaefer's face. Ashen. HOLD. Suddenly an EERIE SILENCE moves over the jungle:

He whips his face forward. The silence is SHATTERED by a bird flapping from the brush.

Schaefer sits back and scratches his head, frustrated and a little chagrined.

DILLON (o.s.) What'll you try next -- cheese?

Schaefer glares at him. Turns to go --

He stands and begins to move low to the ground toward the waiting snare.


REVISED - "THE HUNTER" - 1/27/87 72-A * 116 Cont.

Behind him, sighting down their well-hidden gun barrels, the others scan the jungle, alert for the slightest sound or movement, covering him.

Schaefer reaches the trap, carefully skirting the trigger hidden beneath the leaves. He reaches the end of the corridor, moving out into the jungle. He moves further away from the others, the silence crushing down on him. He stops and waits, sweat pouring down his face, his finger tightening on the trigger of his M-203, eyes scanning the jungle.

He turns his back on the jungle, waiting. Nothing. He moves back towards the corridor, reaching the net, again waiting, listening, sensing. Nothing. He turns around, looking at the jungle one last time, his face measuring defeat and then, with carefully, measured strides, he walks back to the camp.

Schaefer looks at Billy who shakes his head in puzzlement. Nearby, Dillon starts to rise.

DILLON (low; whispered) Satisfied? Now let's get the hell out...



116 CONTINUED: 116

Suddenly, behind Schaefer at the end of the corridor, with a resounding SWISH and SNAP, the NET explodes off the floor of the jungle in a hail of leaves and sticks, rocketing upward into the treetops.

Schaefer spins, the others leaping to their feet as they SEE the net as it tears into the treetops, a large struggling bulge trapped within as a long, unearthly TRILLING SCREAM ECHOES through the jungle.

Schaefer and the others charge from the rocks towards the jungle and the bobbing net, their weapons ready. Anna remains behind, watching terrified from the rocks.

They arrive under the net, raising their weapons to fire...but before they can fire the entire net EXPLODES into a flurry of leaves, twigs, vines, dirt and a FLASH of PULSATING CRIMSON.


As the Hunter leaps from the net his WEAPON activates, his arm slashing out, severing a THICK LIMB of the spreading tree capony, entangled in vines.

118 EXT. THE TEAM - DAY 118

The limb CRASHES down from the trees, Schaefer, Dillon, Billy and Mac Diving for safety. But Ramirez, following the Hunter's leap, SEES too late the pendular movement of the severed limb and is struck a THUDDING blow in the ribs, which lifts him off his feet, hurling him backwards like a rag doll, his shirt torn open, exposing a BLOODY WOUND.

As Anna runs to Ramirez's side the others, still stunned, look upward, frozen in shock SEEING: THE HUNTER, clinging to a side of a tree, flushed bright crimson.

Dillis is dumbfounded, like the others, rooted to the ground staring upward.

DILLON What is God's name...?

The Hunter utters an unearthly SNARL and HISS from his open mouth as an instant later his camouflage resumes and he vanishes from sight...a rapid, furtive movement through the trees.



118 CONTINUED: 118

Mac OPENS FIRE with the M-60, the others joining in, shredding the foliage, but they know the creature is gone.

With a SHOUT, Mac races into the jungle, in pursuit of the Hunter.


Schaefer hurriedly ejects the spent clip from the M-203, slamming in a new one. He shouts an order to Billy.

SCHAEFER (to Billy) Get Ramirez on his feet! Take the girl and get the hell out of here!

He turns to run after Mac. Dillon steps in front of him, putting his hand on Schaefer's chest.

DILLON No way, Dutch. I'm going. You get these people and get the hell out of here.

SCHAEFER This isn't your style, Dillon.

DILLON Guess I've picked up some bad habits from you, Dutch. Now don't argue with me, you know I'm right. Get to that chopper and hold it for us. We'll be along.

SCHAEFER You know you can't win this one.

Dillon stares at him.

DILLON You know me, Dutch, I never did know when to quit.

Dillon turns and begins to move out.



118 CONTINUED: (2) 118


Dillon turns. Picking up the spare MP-5, Schaefer tosses the weapon to Dillon, who grabs it with one hand. They share a look, knowing this is farewell.

SCHAEFER I'll see you there.

DILLON Right behind you.

Hefting both weapons at the hip he runs into the jungle after Mac. Schaefer watches him leave. He breaks and goes to Ramirez, attended by Anna and Billy, who is now sitting up, holding his ribs and gasping for breath.

BILLY He's busted up, bad, Major.

RAMIREZ (gasping) I can make it, Major.

Schaefer lifts him to his feet, supporting him.

SCHAEFER Come on, Poncho, we're getting out of here. (to Billy) Billy, take the radio, leave the rest. Come on!

119 EXT. MAC - DAY 119

Creeping low to the ground, his eyes searching through the trees.

MAC (whispered) Come on, you motherfucker!

120 EXT. DILLON - DAY 120

Moving through the underbrush HEARS a slight RUSTLING in the foliage. Mac? He strains to locate the source of the movement.

He HEARS A SOUND, too faint at first it identify. He listens. Silence. He hears is again, the SOUND of a VOICE, barely audible. A VERY QUIET WHISPER.



120 CONTINUED: 120

VOICE (o.s.) Dillon, over here.

Dillon locates the direction of the voice and moves towards it.

VOICE (o.s.; barely audible) Dillon, over here.

Dillon moves a few feet into the undergrowth. He carefully parts the thick leaves and vines and enters a tiny opening. He looks around, seeing nothing.

DILLON (whispering) Mac?

Suddenly a HAND appears and covers Dillon's mouth. Dillon gasps as Mac pulls him down to where he is hiding.

MAC (whispering; close) Out there. Past the rocks... can you see it?

Something seems to MOVE in the direction Mac is pointing.

DILLON (whispering) I see it! (pause) We're gonna take this thing.

Dillon points to an OUTCROPPING OF ROCKS, covered with VINES.

DILLON Take a position over there. I'll work around towards you. When I flush him, you nail him...

MAC (a mean look) ...Right, I got a score to settle for the Bro...



120 CONTINUED: (2) 120

DILLON We both got scores to settle.

Dillon silently disappears into the jungle, Mac watching him go.

Mac makes his way toward the rock outcropping, working his way between the rocks and the vines. He takes up a position and scans the jungle before him.

121 DILLON 121

moving quietly, his face intense, determined. He stops and listens.


straining to hear VAGUE SOUNDS coming from the jungle. He reaches out and grabs a VINE and carefully pulls himself forward into a better position.


moving, searching. He goes into a crouch.


There is MOVEMENT in the undergrowth. He begins to sweat. He moves the safety to fire; reaches out and grabs another vine to pull himself forward. Mac reacts in shock.

The vine is alive! Before he can move, the Hunter's HAND appears from the vines, grabbing Mac by the wrist.

In the moment before he is killed, Mac turns and SEES the Hunter's glowing EYES.

A FLASH as the Hunter's other hand, moves with blinding speed, Mac's face contorting in pain as the Hunter's razor-sharp SPUR rips deep into his throat. He falls forward into the leaves.

125 DILLON 125

He HEARS the faint disturbance in the leaves. He pauses, turning in Mac's direction, listening. Hearing no further sound he relaxes, moving on.



Anna in the lead, followed by Schaefer carrying Ramirez on his back. Billy, carrying the RADIO is covering them from above, as they skitter and slide down the loose gravel of a rocky slope, leading to a river crossing.

127 EXT. DILLON 127

He stalks through a narrow corridor of tangled vines and moss, leading to the rock outcropping on the other side, his face alert, showing no signs of fear, his weapon ready.


Through the thick tangle of undergrowth, there is MOVEMENT, a slight, undulating distortion, drifting through the hanging vegetation, as if cast by a passing shadow.

129 DILLON 129

as he stops and crouches slightly, listing behind him. Did he hear something? He moves on.

130 EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY 130

Behind Dillon and to the side of the corridor. The Hunter syncopates him movements precisely with those of Dillon.

Dillon stops. The Hunter freezes in position.


He does sense something behind him. He crouches and spins, leveling the weapon. The corridor behind him is empty, quiet and undisturbed. He studies the trail intently.

132 EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY 132

Peering out through the vines. Dillon is looking directly at him. Dillon turns, moves on, as the Hunter resumes his stalk, timing his movements perfectly with those of Dillon.


as he approaches the rock outcropping. He signals. Receiving no response he moves closer, turning cautiously to right and left.



133 CONTINUED: 133

DILLON (whispering) Mac...Mac.

He moves closer to the rocks, eyes probing. Through a gap in the rocks he SEES Mac's face, staring up at him, eyes frozen wide in death.

Dillon spins hard. He stares at the solid wall of undergrowth. He looks from one side of the corridor to the other. Something it out there. Where?

Something in the vines has caught his attention. He stares hard at a section of moss.

134 EXT. MOSS - DETAIL - DAY 134

Suddenly the right combination of light and shadow prevail and Dillon SEES in an instant, the Hunter's EYES materialize and then disappear.


With a growl and exhalation of breath, charges, bringing the weapon to bear. A short BURST OF GUNFIRE erupts from the barrel.


In an indiscernible blue of camouflage releases his weapon.

137 DILLON 137

SCREAMS, his arm instantly severed halfway between his shoulder and elbow. The weapon drops to the ground, the forearm still attached, still FIRING.

With his left hand he FIRES the second weapon SHOUTING INSANELY as swings it towards the blurred image of his unseen attacker, hitting nothing.

The Hunter reloads his WEAPON which turns INVISIBLE again. Dillon continues to fire. The Hunter's weapon appears from below, cutting into Dillon's unprotected abdomen, which, as if hit by a samurai sword, bursts open. Dillon CRIES OUT as the huge man hits the ground.


spanning the narrow gorge, Schaefer and Anna with Ramirez between them, move onto the log, preparing to cross. They stop, HEARING Dillon's GUNFIRE.


139 EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY 139

Moving through the jungle with incredible speed, leaping, tearing from tree to tree, the jungle a rush of HEAT TRAILS as he charges on.


The jungle is still deathly SILENT. Schaefer, Anna and Ramirez cross the log, moving onto the other side. Billy, still at the foot of the log, providing cover, turns to face the jungle.

He lifts his head towards the trees, feeling the onrushing presence of the Hunter. He shrugs off the radio letting it fall, smashing into the rocks below.

He casts away his weapon. Staring forward he reaches into his cargo pocket, withdrawing a small GREASE-PAINT TIN. Covering his finger in BLACK PAINT he applies dark slashes under his eyes and again, vertically down his cheeks. Taking another dap of paint he makes a SYMBOL on his bare skin, over his heart.

He drops the tin, withdrawing his COMBAT KNIFE. Holding the knife he grasps the MEDICINE BAG around his neck, yanking it free with a quick snap. He wraps the leather thong around his hand and knife, binding the weapon and bag together.

Staring outward, as if in a trance, he begins a low CHANT.

On the other side, Schaefer carrying Ramirez on his back, laboring up the steep slope, nearing the top, turns and SEES Billy standing, waiting at the foot of the bridge.

SCHAEFER (screaming) Billy!!!

But Billy stands at the foot of the bridge, knife raised, waiting, accepting his oncoming destiny.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86 81 * 140 CONTINUED: 140

In frustration, Schaefer hikes Ramirez higher onto his back, digs in and sprints to the top of the hill, Anna waiting at the top.

141 OUT 141

142 EXT. BILLY - DAY 142

Crouches low, knife extended in a fighting position.

143- OUT 143- 144 144


Over the top, in a low depression, Schaefer props Ramirez against some rocks, reaching for his weapon. They HEAR Billy's echoing SCREAM. Instantly their weapons are raised, cocked and ready.

SCHAEFER Get back, into the rocks!

Schaefer sweeps Anna behind him as Ramirez struggles to his feet. Together they back up, covering the ridgeline over which they've just come.

Suddenly, from one side, near Ramirez, the Hunter bursts from the jungle, Ramirez, seeing the Hunter, spins raising his weapons to fire...

Ramirez SEES the Hunter's onrushing face, still in camouflage, a montage of organic textures and colors, his yellow eyes burning.

Whipping the MP-5 is the direction of the Hunter he is hurled backwards from the impact of the Hunter's weapon, his neck gushing BLOOD, the MP-5 flying through the air, landing in front of Anna. She moves for the weapon...

The Hunter, with unearthly speed, turns towards Anna, as Schaefer starts to spin, SEEING the Hunter about to strike as Anna dives for the weapon. Schaefer lunges kicking the MP-5 out of Anna's reach.

SCHAEFER (to Anna) Run! Get to the chopper!



145 CONTINUED: 145

Schaefer spins and FIRES, bullets THUDDING into the ground, the barrel arcing towards the Hunter as Anna stumbles to her feet running into the jungle.

In a blur the Hunter spins back, hurling his weapon at Schaefer which slices through the wooden stock of the rifle, SPARKS FLYING as it severs the trigger guard and steel breech.

The M-203 flies out of Schaefer's hands as the Hunter's weapon cuts deeply into his left shoulder, laying open the flesh.

The M-203 hits the ground, where it lies broken in half, useless.

Schaefer hits the ground and is rolling, up and running for his life, the Hunter charging after him.

146 SCHAEFER 146

crashes headlong through the jungle. He leaps a fallen log, stumbles, struggles to his feet, running on pure adrenalin, his shoulder pulsing blood, his eyes filled with terror.

Behind him he can hear the Hunter in pursuit, closing.

Schaefer spins to look behind him, a wild desperate look on his face; he turns back, ducks an overhanging limb and lunges on.


Closing rapidly...another few yard.


runs like a madman, the SOUND of the Hunter's FOOTSTEPS close behind. He's losing ground. He knows he's going to die.

Schaefer SHOUTS. Suddenly the ground before him COLLAPSES and he disappears from sight.


In a shower of leaves, flailing arms and legs, Schaefer crashes through the trees at the canyon's edge, free falling into space.



149 CONTINUED: 149

With a sickening IMPACT, he hits the branches of the first trees lining the canyon and falls, a hundred feet, through one canopy after another, desperately grabbing for limbs and branched to break his fall.

He hits the bottom branches of the list line of trees, impacting crosschest on a large BRANCH, knocking his wind out.

Semi-conscious, he hangs momentarily before he slides off, fingers digging into the bark, falling another ten feet into the swiftly moving river.

150 EXT. RIVER - DAY 150

Weighted down by his boots and clothing, Schaefer struggles to stay afloat. Gasping for air he ducks underwater, untying one of his boots. He surfaces, fills his lungs and dives again, releasing the other boot. He surfaces, strips off his shirt and pants and begins to swim towards shore, stroking with one arm.

151 EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY 151

As he nears the edge of the precipice from which Schaefer has fallen. The Hunter in close pursuit does not hesitate but LAUNCHES himself off the cliff in a spectacular LEAP, streaking downward towards the tops of the trees that grow out from the canyon wall.

The Hunter tears through the canopy of the first tree, the branches and leaves rushing past in a KALEIDOSCOPIC BLUR.

The Hunter bounds off of one branch after another, moving through the trees as an expert skier might negotiate a series of downhill gates.

The Hunter leaps free of one tree, bounds across twenty feet of open space to a large branch of a huge tree, affording a good view of the river below. From his vantage point, looking down at the windening, slowing expanse of river, Schaefer is nowhere to be seen.


He is swept into a still FASTER CURRENT and is carried helplessly downstream. Boiling WHITEWATER appears.



152 CONTINUED: 152

Out of control he is swept through a series of rapids, pulling his further and further downstream until he is finally ducked into the undertow and hurled over the top of a six foot falls, driven deep underwater by the pounding force of the water.


There is no sign of Schaefer. Precious seconds pass. Slowly, looking like a drowned rat, he surfaces, taking a feeble breath. He is nearly finished, his energy sapped. But the water is calm and a few strokes are enough to carry him near the shore. His feet hit bottom.

He tries to stand but pitches headfirst into the thick MUD SLURRY at the river bank. With his last ounce of strength, he crawls, panting and gasping into a sheltered mud OVERHANG, collapsing beside the exposed ROOT-SYSTEM OF A DEAD TREE, his body completely covered in thick, gray MUD.

Nearly unconscious, he raises his head and looks to the opposite side of the river, scanning the bank. There is no sign of the Hunter. He collapses in relief. He's escaped.

Suddenly, the Hunter impacts the water, throwing up a huge SPLASH. He stands up in the waist deep water. As the water streams off of his body, the chameleon effect rapidly changes, struggling to match the shifting color patterns of the shimmering water.

His glaring yellow orbs stare directly at the spot where Schaefer lies helplessly trapped.

The Hunter surges forward, relentlessly closing in on this prey.

154 SCHAEFER 154

is frozen in terror, paralyzed with fear, his eyes locked ontothe incredible creature that is about to kill him.

155 EXT. HUNTER - DAY 155

Closing rapidly, another ten feet. He leaves the water and walks through the mud, stopping, towering over Schaefer.


156 EXT. SCHAEFER'S P.O.V. - DAY 156

As the Hunter's feet surge though the mud and stop, three feet away.


Realizing his life is about to end, closes his eyes, awaiting the Hunter's killing blow.


The fierce yellow orbs look downward.

159 EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY 159

He's looking directly at Schaefer, EXCEPT HE CAN'T SEE HIM.

He can clearly see the EXPOSED ROOT-SYSTEM, but because of the heavy mud blocking Schaefer's body heat, Schaefer registers in the Hunter's vision as merely an indistinct lump of clay, unrecognizable to the Hunter as a human being.

He scans the bank, searching, looking for heat sources. Detecting none he moves on sounding a questioning TRILL several times.


disbelieving that he's still alive, opens one eye, SEEING the Hunter's feet move away, his prehensile spurs dragging in the mud. He rounds a bend and disappears, heading for the undergrowth.

Astonished, he tries to raise up on his hands but a sudden jabbing pain in his shoulder causes him to collapse, falling onto his side, unconscious in the mud.

161 EXT. RIVER - DAY 161

As a HUEY ATTACK HELICOPTER breaks over the top of the ridge, diving forward, moving down the canyon. The chopper flares up into a holding pattern.

In the open doorway, a SOLDIER searches the top of the canyon with binoculars. Seeing no sign of life, the chopper flies on, disappearing down the canyon rim.


lies unconscious in the mud, the distant SOUND of the helicopter THRUMPING into the distance.


163 EXT. ANNA - DAY 163

She runs into a clearing, stopping momentarily, gasping for breath. She is startled by a sudden movement behind her. She spins, looking. There is nothing there. She runs on.


Schaefer GASPS as his eyes bolt open in fear. As if the Hunter were still attacking, Schaefer rolls to his feet and runs, slogging through the THICK MUD, stumbling, lunging forward, gasping for breath.

Schaefer spins and staggers backwards into a shallow POOL, scuttling, crablike into the chest deep water. Schaefer backs into the moss-covered wall by the waterfall, looking for movement, regaining his senses.

As the water settles, he looks down, SEEING the image of himself, reflected in the pool; his hair and face covered in THICK CLAY. He stares, mesmerized at the image.

He lifts his arm from the water, his fingers wiping the MUD from his face, exposing a PATCH of SKIN. He studies the mud in his hand and then looks at the image of himself in the water, SEEING the exposed skin. HE stares at it, a wave of realization rushing through his mind. He places the mud back on his face, again looking at his image.

SCHAEFER You couldn't see me.

He looks up, out into the failing light, at the treeline of the deepening forest, realizing that fate has given him a fighting chance. Slowly a look of vengeance and hatred crosses over his face.


Using his MACHETE he carves MAGNESIUM SHAVINGS from a fire block into a pile of KINDLING. He removes a match from the hollow handle of the machete, also containing a coil of PIANO WIRE, GREEN TAPE and MEDICAL SUPPLIES. He lights the shavings which burn with a brilliant white light. Schaefer shelters the fire with a banana leaf until the flame dies down. He feeds the fire with more kindling, fanning it with a leaf.


Holding a three foot section of FIRE-HARDENED sapling between his feet and shoulder, he scrapes the char from the seasoned wood with his machete.



165-A CONTINUED: 165-A

He bends the bow and attaches a long piece of PIANO WIRE to one end, carefully wrapping it for strength, using strips of green tape to cover the sides of the wire where the nock of the arrow will fit.

He attaches split quilled FEATHERS with fishing line to an ARROW, its tip fashioned into a series of barbs, rubbing them to a polished hardness against a smooth stone. When finished he places the arrow on the ground next to three other identical arrows.

SCHAEFER One chance, that's all.


Schaefer is pounding a peeled root between two stones. He pauses to drool saliva into the pulpy mass. He scrapes the milky substance onto a BANANA LEAF, mixing it with a sticky SAP, holding it over the coals until the mixture steams.

Schaefer coats the arrow tips with the sticky poison, holding them over the coals until the sap bubbles and smokes. He spins the arrows in his hands, blowing on the tips to cool and harden the mixture.

Using the tip of his machete, he pries open the casing of one of the 40MM grenades, discarding the warhead. He dumps the PROPELLANT POWDER from the shell onto a leaf, mixing that with a mound of MAGNESIUM SHAVINGS.

He opens the narrow, tight roll of GAUZE taken from the first aid kit of the machete handle, fluffing it into a large, loose BUNDLE, the size of a baseball. He pours the powder-mixture into the gauze, mixing it into the fabric.

He transfers the ball of explosive ladened gauze to a pliable DRY LEAF, closing it into a bundle, binding it at the top with a long strand of jungle-grass.

He twists the remaining gauze around a MATCH, leaving the head exposed, forming a self-striking FUSE.

He coats the fuse with SAP and then thickly covers it with more powder from the 40MM grenade. He pokes the fuse down into the leaf. Taking a long strand of JUNGLE GRASS he makes a large loop, tying it onto the grenade, slipping the loop and grenade over his head.



166 CONTINUED: 166

Finally, using several sections of BAMBOO of differing diameters, he fashions a crude, anti-personnel SPEAR-BOMB, a BANG-STICK like weapon, using the sharpened TONGUE from his belt buckle for a FIRING PIN and a 40MM GRENADE from his belt pouch as an explosive charge.


Schaefer appears, he has covered him entire body with a variety of CLAYS and OCHERS, creating a mottled, EARTHEN CAMOUFLAGE pattern.

Holding his weapons in one hand, he moves up the canyon, ascending into a rising boulder field.


Where the river flows into a series of falls and pools, surrounded by massive boulders and table top rocks, their crevices jammed with large amounts of DRIFTWOOD swept down at high water from the forests above.

On a flattened section of rock, Schaefer drags a large section of BRANCHES INTO VIEW, adding it to a growing mound of FIREWOOD. He kneels, tending to a pile of DRIES GRASS, LEAVES and other tinder. Using the last of his precious matches, he sets fire to the tinder, gently coaxing the tiny blaze into a slowly consumming FIRE, flames starting to lick upward through the dry wood.

He stands, staring into the rapidly growing blaze. He turns, facing the canyon rim, raising his weapons in one hand. From the depths of his soul, a SOUND emerges; primitive and visceral, as if from an animal in pain.

He throws back his head and SHOUTS.


A hundred feet below, Schaefer stands in the boulder field, his mud coated body bathed in RED FIRELIGHT, looking like a fierce, primitive warrior; a timeless, prehistoric sight, his long and WAILING CRY, ECHOING endlessly through the canyon.


Backlit by the LIGHT of the open door, the Hunter's head, in three-quarter profile, his eyes gleaming, rears INTO VIEW, looking up at the sky, HEARING Schaefer's cry.



169 CONTINUED: 169

Responding with a low HISS, he turns back, raising in one hand his weapon, in the other a U-shaped SHARPENING DEVICE. As he passes the weapon through the device, it FLASHES into life, a deep, HARMONIC HUM emitted as the blade grows with energy, growing hotter, hotter and HOTTER with each stroke. He draws the blade now WHITE-HOT through the device for the last stroke. He lifts it, testing its balance, the WHITE-HOT blade illuminating his alien face.

170- OUT 170- 177 177


Emerging from his camp, the Hunter swings into the nearby tree line, moving to the uppermost branches. The Hunter travels silently from tree to tree, arriving at the canyon rim where far below he SEES in the canyon, the BONFIRE, a leaping, shifting, multi-colored collage of HEAT WAVES and FLARES, luring him onward.

179 SCHAEFER 179

hidden back within the deep notch of several large LOGS and broken trees, in the river canyon. Below him, on the rock plateau, is the bonfire, illuminating in SHIFTING PATTERNS of LIGHT, the awaiting arena of destiny.

His eyes shift, trancelike, moving from side to side, watching the approaches to the fire below. His senses are alert; his nerves on a wire edge.


His SHADOW-FORM descending through the canyon, a rippling movement of grays and blacks, passing through the shifting light patterns on the rocks, cast by the growing bonfire below.

181 EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - NIGHT 181

His eyes probe the canyon, drawn to the swirling patterns of HEAT given off by the gaseous COMBUSTION of the bonfire.


Continues on, moving silently down through the canyon.


183 SCHAEFER 183

sits motionless, nearly invisible in his mud camouflage amid the darkness of the logs.

Suddenly, over the CRACKLING of the FIRE, the BUZZING, CLICKING of INSECTS, and the CROAKING of FROGS, suddenly CEASES.

Slowly, painfully he draws the bow to full arch, his wounded shoulder trembling, the BLOOD beginning to seep through the bandage.

The bow straining at full draw, Schaefer stares intently, concentrating, searching for the Hunter's form in the dancing light below.


Like a giant insect, drops from above, fifteen feet above Schaefer, his steel-like spurs digging deep into the log.


He freezes at the sound of the Hunter dropping, his eyes wide with fear. The slightest movement will bring an instant attack from the Hunter behind him. But to wait, his back exposed.


Jumps from the log above and to Schaefer's left, onto a boulder, gaining a better vantage point of the arena and fire below. He raises his weapon, his EYES glistening in the dim light, searching. A quiet HISS emerges from his mouth.


Spins and fires at the movement of the Hunter.

184 EXT. ARROW - NIGHT 184

Flies into the night, lodging into a BRANCH of an exposed tree, just missing the Hunter's head.

In a blur, the Hunter's arm streaks downward, a dull flash of light leaving his fingers as he fires the weapon, the projectile STREAKING downward, EXPLODING into the log, inches from Schaefer, sending a SHOWER of wood chips and bark, flying in every direction.


185 SCHAEFER 185

in a flash, is up and running, clutching his weapons, leaping from boulder to boulder. He jumps down into the lighted area below, landing hard, rolling into the protective shadows of the rocks, putting the loping fire between he and the Hunter's position on the rocks above.

He moves forward, darting to look backwards before leaping off the lip of the table rock into the boulder field below, a flat plane littered by weirdly shaped, water-erroded rocks, forming a giant stone AMPITHEATER. Shadows leap and dance across the boulders, cast by the bonfire from the plateau above.

Schaefer crouches between two large boulders, quietly breathing through clenched teeth, feeling the pain of his now freely bleeding shoulder wound.


A nightmarish silhouette appearing for an instant on the rim of the plateau above.


Over the SOUNDS of the FIRE and the softly flowing RIVER, distinguishes a NEW SOUND, one that brings fear and a savage determination to his heart: the rhythmical CLICK-SCRAPE, CLICK-SCRAPE of the Hunter's feet, moving over the rocks, somewhere above him.

Drawing back on the bow, Schaefer moves around the boulder to his left, heading towards the sound of the Hunter.

186- OUT 186- 197 197


REVEALED in flashes of strobing light, pauses at the juncture of several towering rocks.

He stands, erect, tilting his head slowly, turning it from side to side, his ears trying to orientate to the diversity of SOUNDS reflecting off the circular walls, enclosing the boulder field.

199 INT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - NIGHT 199

His vision, accustomed to another spectrum, has little available heat to register vivid images of the inert, lifeless forms of the stones. He SEES instead, a world of soft, ill-defined shapes in a pale MAGENTA field of flickering heat.



Creeping forward, carefully placing one foot in front of the other, suddenly stops, hearing the CLICK-SCRAPE, CLICK-SCRAPE, now on his right.

Starting to move in this new direction, he stops again, HEARING the sound now directly across from him. Listening, he hears the sound again from yet another direction, the sound ECHOING in the natural ampitheater of rock.

Schaefer, uncertain of where to turn, waits. Suddenly he crouches and freezes, HEARING the unbelievable SOUND of a HUMAN VOICE, softly echoing through the ampitheater.

ANNA'S VOICE (o.s.; filtered; in Spanish) Look out, behind you!!!

Schaefer spins, his breath catching at the sound of Anna's voice. Wide-eyed, straining, he waits, hearing only the muted FLOWING of water, the HISSING and POPPING of the dying fire above, the shadows growing longer, darker with each minute.

And then again, Anna's VOICE.

ANNA'S VOICE (o.s.; in Spanish) ...Look out, behind you!

SCHAEFER (to himself) Anna...?

Tracelike he moves towards the sound.

201 THE HUNTER 201

his head canted, throat distended, utters another mimicry.

202 SCHAEFER 202

moving towards the space between two boulders from which the VOICE seems to emanate.



202 CONTINUED: 202

SCHAEFER (louder) Anna...?

203 THE HUNTER 203

his ears now directed towards the SOUND of Schaefer's voice, his slowly approaching FOOTSTEPS, raises his weapon.

204 SCHAEFER 204

pauses before the opening of the passageway. All is silent. He hesitates to enter. Listeneing. He starts to move and then hears a NEW VOICE:

HUNTER (o.s.; Mac's voice) Dillon, over here...

Schaefer, horrified at the sound of the dead man's voice, backs quickly into the space between a boulder and the high rock wall of the ampitheater.


His feet moving quietly over the rock, the shadow-light deepening with the dying fire above, closing in.


Bow drawn, trapped against the rock, HEARING the sound of the Hunter approaching from the left, now the right, is helpless, not knowing where to fire, the Hunter's deadly strike only an instant away.

Still holding the bang-stick in his bow hand, he carefully releases the draw on the string, reaching to his neck for the FLASH-GRENADE. With painstaking care he removes the grenade from his neck.

Focusing on the rocks before him and the still approaching SOUND, he reaches down with the grenade, gripping with his fingertips the matchhead fuse, placing it against the rocks at his side.

With a sudden jerk of his hand he strikes and throws the grenade, snatching up the bang-stick with his good hand.



205-A CONTINUED: 205-A

The matchhead SPUTTERS as the grenade flies through the air, an instant later a blinding, WHITE FLASH of light illuminates the ampitheater...

In that instant Schaefer SEES above him and to his left, the HUNTER, poised on top of a rock, his weapon raised, about to strike! Momentarily blinded by the flash of light, the Hunter's head recoils to the side.

Darkness swallows the image of the Hunter, but in that second, Schaefer seizes his advantage, hurling the bang-stick spear.

206- OUT 206- 213 213


It smashes into the boulder at the Hunter's feet. The Hunter leaps as the grenade DETONATES, shrapnel tearing into his body.

With a terrifying SCREAM of pain and anger, the Hunter clutches frantically at the WOUNDS in his neck and chest. Another bloodcurdling SCREAM OF RAGE and the Hunter is gone.


Cascades over the rocks, fed by a small stream running through the ravine. A pile of BOULDERS breaks the falls, filling the area with an everconstant MIST.

Schaefer appears, holding the bow and arrow, following the LUMINOUS BLOOD TRAIL of the Hunter over the rock.

Moving behind the falls, Schaefer's body is briefly soaked by the water, the hardened and CAMOUFLAGE beginning to dissolve, running off his body. He continues on, slowly, cautiously following the blood trail.


Next to the flowing stream, surrounded by an open area of rock.

Schaefer, smeared with blood and sweat, his clay and ochre camouflage partially washed away, climbs up a log onto the boulder. Oblivious to the searing pain in his



216 CONTINUED: 216

shoulder, he breathes in hot, powerful exchanges, his eyes wide and glowing with vengeance.

SCHAEFER Bleed, you bastard.

His bow down, Schaefer follows the blood trail across the rock, edging alongside a huge vertical boulder. The blood trail stops.

He takes another step forward, past a darkened ALCOVE...

Schaefer spins, SEEING in the alcove the SURPRISED Hunter whirl and spring towards him...

Schaefer in a bound closes the distance, savagely kicking the Hunter's arm. The WEAPON flies from the Hunter's hand CLATTERING to the rock.

Before he can recover, Schaefer follows with a karate kick to the chest, hurling the Hunter to the ground, his back exposed.

In a flash, Schaefer is standing over the Hunter, the bow drawn, poised, the blood from his open wound dripping onto the Hunter's back.

The Hunter slowly rolls onto his back, REVEALING his face, his eyes bleached white in shock from the loss of blood. The Hunter's body, rippled out of control, trying desperately to orientate itself to the environment.

SCHAEFER (incredulous) Who the hell are you...?


Schaefer's body, looms over him, MOTTLED and STREAKED from his exposed skin, blood oozing from the shoulder wound, his eyes like black sockets in his almost skull-like face. Seen from this perspective, Schaefer is a frightening, horrible visage.

218 THE HUNTER 218

shudders, GASPING hungrily for air, strugging to speak. From his throat, Schaefer HEARS the feeble, distorted efforts of the Hunter, at first garbled, incomprehensible and then, slowly, chillingly, taking on the timbre and quality of his OWN VOICE.



218 CONTINUED: 218

HUNTER (electronic; filtered) Who... (improving) ...the hell... (nearly perfect) ...are... (perfect) ...You?

The Hunter's strength seems to fade even more...

Then, suddenly, with the last of his diminishing strength, he lashes out with one arm, activating the lethal, razor sharp SPURS on his wrists.

The Hunter's coiled leg kicks upward with incredible force, his terrible spur ripping into Schaefer's thigh, hurling Schaefer into the air, flipping him over, sending him crashing to his back into the shallow pool of water, momentarily losing his bow. He flounders desperately in the water, searching for the bow. He finds it just as...

The Hunter rises slowly to his feet, GASPING desperately for breath. He inhales deeply, hungrily, gaining strength with each breath.

Schaefer looks from the pool to SEE the Hunter, raising his weapon to throw.

In one totally instinctual movement, Schaefer draws back on the arrow to its very tip and fires.

The arrow, with a deadly THUD, penetrates deeply into the Hunter's neck. Another bloodcurdling SCREAM of RAGE as the Hunter clutches his throat, dropping his weapon. An instant later and the Hunter is gone.


Emerging onto a huge log leading to the rim of the canyon, Schaefer holding the Hunter's weapon, pauses several times, finding more traces of the Hunter's blood, the deep WOUND in his thigh flowing heavily. He continues across the log and climbs the bank, following the traces into the jungle.



Moving along the rim of the coulee, Schaefer follows the thick, orange blobs hanging on leaves and spent on the forest floor.

Too weak to move through the trees, the Hunter has left a SWATH of trampled grasses, broken twigs and branches in his headlong retreat from Schaefer: the Hunter turned Hunted.


Powering upward from the canyon, the WATERFALL in the b.g., clear the rim, racing along at treetop height, heading towards the island promontory.


Staggering into the clearing, bleeding severely. The Hunter is rapidly losing his camouflage ability, his skin turning a PALE GREEN, flexing and pulsing in shock. The glow of light from the ENERGY FIELD reflecting off the spreading apron of BLOOD flowing from his wound.

With trembling hands he grasps the arrow and breaks it, pulling the shaft from his neck. He screams in pain.

223 EXT. GLEN - PRE-DAWN 223

Schaefer follows the blood trail, deeper into the incredibly dense vegetation, ripping aside the heavy growth, plunging onward.

Before him, covering a narrow passageway, is a huge SPIDER WEB, intricate, four feet across. Schaefer starts to sweep aside the web. With a sharp intake of breath, he halts, inches from the wed. Something is wrong.

Examining the web closer he sees not silken threads but a hard and shiny network of HAIR-FINE WIRE: A TRAP.

He backs up, picking up a hefty branch from the ground. He swings the branch with a mighty heave, clenching his teeth in pain. The branch sails end over end into the web impacting the strands. A metallic SNAP is HEARD; a high-pitches WHINE and the log is violently severed, the pieces flying in opposite directions with great speed.



223 CONTINUED: 223

Schaefer runs on, again picking up the blood traces of the fleeing Hunter.


At the edge of the site. He SEES the Hunter staggering through the foliage.

Schaefer starts after him but then stops, dumbfounded by the incredible images that crash in on him: TRANSLUCENT HUMAN SKINS stretched over frames, the hair of the attached scalps moving lightly in the wind; SKINNED BODIES, some lying on the ground, others hung from the trees, like Hopper and his men were.

He turns back, SEEING the Hunter as he passes through the shimmering distortion of a FORCEFIELD enveloping the forest. Within the force field he SEES the vague, nearly transparent OUTLINE of the Hunter's ship.

He approaches it, wide-eyed, his senses reeling with astonishment and rage.

From within the force field, a PASSAGE WAY of BLUE LIGHT appears, the Hunter's form backlit as he ascends the RAMP to his spacecraft.

225- OUT 225- 226 226

227 THE HUNTER 227

as he passes his hand through a light BEAM, the ship instantly responds, as a low, TURBINELIKE HOWL is HEARD, building slowly in volume and pitch.

228 SCHAEFER 228

in his weakened condition staggers forward, looking up, SEEING the passage way of light diminish as the door begins to close.

As rising HEAT WAVES begin to envelope the ship, the Hunter stares out at Schaefer, the heat waves increasing as the KEENING WHINE of the ship's drive builds. He enters the force field, the door now inches from closing.

On the ground, nearly obscured by the grass and leaves, Schaefer SEES the Hunter's WEAPON, lying where he dropped it in his desperate flight to escape.



228 CONTINUED: 228

Schaefer grabs up the weapon and holds it. How the hell does it work?...He squeezes the handle of the weapon feeling it resist. Nothing happens.

With the last ounce of his strength, and with a BELLOW of RAGE, his arm muscles bulging, he crushes down on the handle...

In a FLASH of blue-white light, the weapon becomes ACTIVATED.

Schaefer raises the weapon, sensing its power and function.

In the final seconds before the door closes, Schaefer, with a triumphant SCREAM, fires the weapon...

The weapon, flaring with deadly energy, drops and turns sideways, accelerating through the door and into the spacecraft.


The weapon impacts the Hunter, his head EXPLODING in a fountain of orange blood and pale green tissue.

The weapon continues on, burying itself into the energy field, bolts of plasma-energy begin arcing from the force field.

Schaefer falls forward onto his hands and knees, staring at the Hunter's ship. The SOUND of the hyper-drive continues to increase, as the ship begins to tremble.


As suddenly the instrument panel goes wild, gauges spinning, digital readouts racing out of control. The SOUND of the turbine faltering, changing pitch. The pilot lurches forward with the stick, fighting for control.


The multi harmonic whine of the Hunter's ship is still building as the ground begins to shake.

Schaefer, realizing that the ship is going to explode, and ignoring the pain of his shoulder and leg, runs desperately, searching for cover. He sprints for



231 CONTINUED: 231

the edge of the clearing, diving over the embankment just as:

A blinding purple FLASH blows the ship to pieces.


Enveloped in the flash of intense light. CRIES of surprise fill the ship as the SHOCK-WAVE hits the chopper, heeling it hard over to one side.

Below, the concentric waves of energy race outward from the center of the blast, an unearthly sight, like the miniature birth of a star.

The helicopter suddenly regains control, its power restored.

PILOT Holy, fuck, what was that...?!!!

PHILIPS Orbit right...check it out!

The helicopter levels out and heads toward the smoking, devastated site of the blast.


The jungle has been completely transformed. No longer lush and verdant, the area is clear-cut, two feet above the ground, covered in FINE WHITE, smoldering ASH. Amongst the shattered stumps, debris from the ship, bright as magnesium flares, burns with exotic colors.

If the f.g., Schaefer, a living dead-man, streaked with the alien ash, rises up from a shallow depression, staring dumbstruck at the site.

Breaking in low over the treetops, the HELICOPTERS flare up into position, one preparing to land.

As the chopper descends, the crew, standing in the door way, stare transfixed at the devastation, their eyes trying to penetrate the dense white smoke.

As the helicopter slowly descends, its propwash creating a raging storm, Schaefer materializes from the SWIRLING SMOKE AND ASH, his features taking form as he approaches, his naked body covered in mud, blood and ash.



As the chopper, emerging from the vortex, settles towards the ground where the spacecraft once stood. Through the distorted veil, the helicopter, bristling with WEAPONS, VISORED and HELMETED MEN, now covered with WHITE ASH, looks like a landing spacecraft.


The door gunner swings the M-60 into firing position, pointing it at Schaefer. He racks the bolt, loading a round.

The crewmen look tense, frightened.

Anna, standing next to the door gunner, stares at the strange creature before her, narrowing her eyes, uncertain. Is there something familiar about the figure?

236 SCHAEFER 236

stands in the clearing, staring at the helicopter and the array of weapons pointed at him. He looks dazed, like a man making contact with members of an alien race, for the first time.


hovers low to the ground, the tension inside building as Schaefer approaches.

More weapons swing into position. Fingers tighten on triggers. Suddenly Anna recognizes the figure. Realizing the danger she holds up her hands, shouting



Flash overhead, heading across the trackless jungle, their rotors THUMPING like heavy machine gun fire.


Schaefer, a blanket over his shoulders, still in the remains of his mud camouflage, his body laced with deep cuts; his chest and shoulder caked with dried blood, is seated on a bench in the cargo hold.


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86 102 * 239 CONTINUED: 239

Near the cockpit are General Philips, an ARMY MEDIC, two MACHINE GUNNERS. They look at Schaefer in awe.

The Medic, holding an open FIELD KIT, a syringe and bandages, turns to Philips.

MEDIC (shaking his head) Looks like he's been through hell...can't believe he's still alive. What the hell went on down there?

PHILIPS If it hadn't been for her, he'd be dead now. That story she told us...I still can't believe it.

He looks at Anna, her eyes meeting his, as if asking for an explanation. She looks at him a moment before turning back to Schaefer, staring at him as if he were risen from the dead.

She looks into Schaefer's face, Schaefer returning her look, recognition passing between them. Anna extends her hand. Schaefer slowly reaches out, touching her fingers, then clasping her hand.

Schaefer turns his eyes to stare out the open door, beyond the passing jungle below, out to the heavens. He turns back, looking at Anna, a faint smile crossing his face...they made it.


Pull away and head towards the distant, green horizon.





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