>>12 / Twelve Monkeys

12 / Twelve Monkeys

: 12 / Twelve Monkeys.

12 / Twelve Monkeys



CLOSE ON A FACE. A nine year old boy, YOUNG COLE, his eyes wide with wonder. watching something intently. We HEAR the sounds of the P.A. SYSTEM droning Flight Information mingled with the sounds of urgent SHOUTS, running FEET, EXCLAMATIONS.

YOUNG COLE'S POV: twenty yards away, a BLONDE MAN is sprawled on the floor, blood oozing from his gaudy Hawaiian shirt.

A BRUNETTE in a tight dress, her face obscured from YOUNG COLE'S view, rushes to the injured man, kneels beside him, ministering to his wound.

ANGLE ON YOUNG COLE, flanked by his PARENTS, their faces out of view, as they steer him away.

FATHER'S VOICE (o.s.) Come on, Son --this is no place for us.

YOUNG COLE resists momentarily, mesmerized by the drama.

YOUNG COLE'S POV: intermittently visible through a confusion of FIGURES rushing through the foreground, the BLONDE MAN reaching up and touching the cheek of the kneeling BRUNETTE in a gesture of enormous tenderness, a gesture of farewell, while the P.A. SYSTEM continues its monotonous monotone...

P.A. SYSTEM Flight 784 for San Francisco is now ready for boarding at inmate number 66578, Greely.


PRISON P.A. SYSTEM --number 5429, Garcia -- number 87645, Cole...

COLE, late thirties, dark hair, comes awake in a bunk cage, one of many stacked four high along both sides of a long dim corridor. He blinks in the near dark, shaken, disoriented.


Flashlights glare. In the half-light, COLE sees spooky figures, GUARDS, moving among the locked bunk/cages.

COLE turns and whispers to the occupant of the next cage, JOSE...

COLE Ssssst! Jose, what's going on?

JOSE's face is almost lost in shadow. What there is of it is youthful. He's just a scared Puerto Rican kid!

JOSE "Volunteers" again.

JOSE immediately rolls over and feigns sleep as SCARFACE, a menacing guard with a jagged scar running down his cheek, looms close to COLE's cage and unlocks it.

SCARFACE "Volunteer duty".

The PRISONERS in the other cages watch silently with narrowed eyes.

COLE I didn't volunteer.

SCARFACE You causing trouble again?

COLE (controls his temper) No trouble.


COLE's alone, struggling to get into what looks like a space suit in a room where suits hang like ghosts with blank eyes.


COLE has the torso of the suit on now and is trying to close it.

OFFSCREEN VOICE (o.s.) All openings must be closed.

COLE looks for the source of the voice, a tiny grate in the wall.

OFFSCREEN VOICE (o.s.) If the integrity of the suit is compromised in any way, if the fabric is torn or a zipper not closed, readmittance will be denied.


COLE, wearing the "space suit" and a helmet with a plastic visor, steps into a tiny chamber, a kind of air lock. The heavy door clangs shut behind him. He's alone. COLE'S breath comes quicker now as he sucks oxygen from the air tanks on his back.

On the opposite wall is another door with a huge wheel lock. COLE turns the heavy wheel, opens the door, steps through It


COLE'S in an ascending elevator that groans and creaks. He looks down at a crudely drawn map he holds in his gloved hand.

The map shows a series of tunnels and ladders.


COLE pans a flashlight, probing the filthy sewer he's wading through

RATS flee the blade of light, scurry across islands of rusting junk.

The flashlight beam settles on a ladder mounted in the wall.

Reaching the rusted ladder, COLE starts to climb awkwardly.


A SCRAPING NOISE as a heavy man-hole cover is pushed up and moved aside. COLE'S helmeted head emerges from below.

COLE'S POV THROUGH HIS PLASTIC-VISORED HELMET: a city in moonlight! A surreal image of abandoned buildings. No people anywhere. The only sounds are the WIND and COLE'S BREATHING.


COLE'S light reveals abandoned vine-covered automobiles. Moving to the nearest car, COLE searches in the vines for something. Finds it. An insect.

COLE takes the bug in his gloved hand. As he clumsily inserts it into a collection tube, something makes him turn.

There's something across the street in the dark. Something alive.

COLE points his flashlight and reveals...a BEAR! Startled by the light, the animal blinks, then stands on its rear legs and ROARS.

ANGLE ON COLE, staring wide-eyed. Then, the BEAR sinks down onto all fours and, trying to avoid the flashlight, it pads quickly down the street.


Using the flashlight to see, COLE reaches down to the cracked floor and gets another specimen. DOGSHIT!

The only sound is COLE'S labored BREATHING.

Then, a different SOUND. GRRRR! A dog. More GRRRRS. More dogs. Then, a YIP. Then, VICIOUS GROWLS. It's a DOGFIGHT!


A giant OWL, perched on an overhead traffic light, raises its wings and lifts off...rising higher and higher into the brightening sky.

Below, on the street, COLE trudges along, passing deserted buildings, windows broken, rusted signs dangling.


COLE'S light reveals a spider web just inside the store. A large SPIDER tries to hide from the light.

COLE reaches carefully into the web and plucks the spider and puts it into one of his specimen tubes.

Then, he shines his light all around the once elegant store. There's nothing but aisle after aisle of moldering consumer goods.


As COLE comes out of the store, the first rays of the sun hit the building. COLE stops, squints into the light through his visor.

COLE'S POV: spray-painted on the wall a long time ago is a stenciled logo of twelve monkeys holding hands in a circle. Over it is written, "WE DID IT!"

COLE looks up.

COLE'S POV: high up on a building across the street, a LION patrols a ledge, pauses, looks out majestically over his world.



ROARING WATER, powerful torrents gushing from nozzles in the wall, pummel the still-suited COLE.


Stark naked and shivering, COLE is being scrubbed with brushes on long poles (like the ones used to wash cars) wielded by two HULKING FIGURES in bulky decontamination suits, their personas lost in their windowed masks. It's a grim scene in a grim cement room with damp, dripping walls. From an unseen source comes an AMPLIFIED VOICE,

AMPLIFIED VOICE (o.s.) Raise your arms above your head.

COLE lifts his arms and the FIGURES start scrubbing his armpits.


Still naked, COLE is seated on a stool while a MASKED TECHNICIAN in a less elaborate, less bulky decontamination outfit draws blood from COLE'S arm with an old-fashioned hypodermic needle.

COLE glances toward a single, nearly opaque "window" of thick plastic in the rusty iron wall. VAGUE FIGURES seem to lurk behind the translucent aperture, studying him.

The TECHNICIAN slips the blood sample through a slot in the wall.


Ushered in by two guards, TINY and SCARFACE, COLE looks around.

COLE'S POV: wails hidden by old headlines, articles, maps, charts... a blackboard covered with elaborate, sophisticated formulae...surfaces heaped with cracked monitors, gerry-rigged computers held together with string, lasers lost in tangles of cable, ancient tube amplifiers, a dilapidated cardboard reconstruction of a city, stacks of moldering books and tattered computer printouts...and, seated at a long conference table, staring at COLE, six SCIENTISTS: an ASTROPHYSICIST, ENGINEER, BOTANIST, MICROBIOLOGIST, ZOOLOGIST, and a GEOLOGIST. They represent a "modern" science where brilliant new ideas interface with crude, outdated, patched-together technologies.

TINY James Cole. Cleared from quarantine.

MICROBIOLOGIST Thank you. You two wait outside.

SCARFACE He's got a history, Doctor. Violence.

COLE'S eyes return to the walls.


SCARFACE Anti-social six -- doing 25 to life.

ENGINEER I don't think he's going to hurt us. You're not going to hurt us, are you Mr. Cole?

COLE'S head turns quickly to the ENGINEER.

COLE No, sir.

The GUARDS exchange a look, shrug, exit, closing the door.

MICROBIOLOGIST Why don't you sit down, Mr. Cole.

COLE goes to the empty chair at the conference table, sits down.

ASTROPHYSICIST We want you to tell us about last night.

COLE I went to the surface and I collected specimens like I was told.

The SCIENTISTS don't say anything. They just study him carefully.

COLE (worried) I mashed the spider, didn't I?

MICROBIOLOGIST We'll get to the spider later, Mr. Cole. Right now, we want to know everything that you saw.


COLE, starting to look very tired now, stands at the blackboard sketching a detailed map of exactly where he was last night.

ASTPOPHYSICIST Where you collected sample #4, what street was that?

COLE Uh...

BOTANIST It's important to observe everything.

COLE I think it was...I'm sure it was 2nd Street.

As the SCIENTISTS start to whisper animatedly among themselves, COLE'S eyes drift across the newspaper clippings taped to the wall. One headline screams, "VIRUS MUTATING!" Another features a photo of an OLD MAN (DR. MASON, who we'll see again later on) and the words, SCIENTIST SAYS, "IT'S TOO LATE FOR CURE".

ASTROPHYSICIST'S VOICE (o.s.) Close your eyes, Cole.

Startled, COLE closes his eyes obediently.


ENGINEER'S VOICE (o.s.) Tell us in detail what you've seen in this room.

COLE'S VOICE (o.s.) Uh, in this room? Uh...

MICROBIOLOGIST'S VOICE (o.s.) How many of us are there?

COLE'S VOICE (o.s.) Six...seven, if you count me.

ASTROPHYSICIST'S VOICE (o.s.) Tell us about the pictures on the wall...

COLE'S VOICE (o.s.) Uh, you mean the newspapers?

A MONTAGE OF OVERLAPPING VOICES (o.s.) Tell us about the newspapers. Can you hear my voice? What do I look like? What does he look like, the man who just spoke? How old were you when you left the surface?

The VOICES blur into a cacophony and FADE INTO the droning P.A. SYSTEM at the airport.


THE DREAM AGAIN! But at an earlier moment. YOUNG COLE, flanked by his PARENTS, whose faces are out of view, is watching a PLANE land through one of the big glass windows that lines the concourse leading to the departure gates.

P.A. SYSTEM (o.s.) Flight 784 now boarding at gate...

Suddenly, a SHOUT, followed by raised VOICES, interrupts the monotonous airport routine. As YOUNG COLE and his PARENTS turn to see what's going on, a man we'll call MR. PONYTAIL, his face averted, hurries past them, bumping YOUNG COLE with a Chicago Hulls Sports Duffle Bag.


YOUNG COLE sees little more than the gaudy pants, the duffle, and the man's ponytail flopping as he rushes towards the gates.

Just then, a WOMAN'S VOICE cries out, "NOOOOOOOOO!"

YOUNG COLE turns back toward the Security Check Point just as TRAVELERS scatter madly, some diving to the floor, others running. A TERRIFIED TRAVELER, hitting the floor close by, looks up at YOUNG COLE with panicky eyes, and asks.... TERRIFIED TRAVELER Just exactly why did you volunteer?


COLE comes abruptly awake. Seated now, he's facing the SCIENTISTS.


COLE Uh, I didn't hear the...

MICROBIOLOGIST (tapping a pencil on the table) I asked you, why did you volunteer?

COLE Well, the guard woke me up. He told me I volunteered.

The SCIENTISTS react, whispering urgently among themselves.

COLE starts to nod off again, then comes awake with a start as the ENGINEER speaks to him.

ENGINEER We appreciate you volunteering. You're a very good observer, Cole.

COLE Uh, thank you.

ENGINEER You'll get a reduction in sentence.

COLE keeps his face impassive.

ASTROPHYSICIST To be determined by the proper authorities.

ENGINEER You don't want to jeopardize that reduction, do you, Cole? Have it taken away?

COLE No, sir!

ASTROPHYSICIST We have a very advanced program, something very different, requires very skilled people.

MICROBIOLOGIST An opportunity to reduce your sentence considerably...

ZOOLOGIST And possibly play an important role in returning the human race to the surface of the earth.

ENGINEER We want tough minded people. Strong mentally. We've had some...misfortunes with "unstable" types.

ASTROPHYSICIST For a man in your position...an opportunity.

BOTANIST Not to volunteer could be a real mistake.

MICROBIOLOGIST (tapping his pencil again) Definitely a mistake!

COLE gives away nothing. He's in a box here. He has no choices. He stares at the tapping pencil.


A strikingly "real" world of bright colors. Extravagant paintings adorn the walls. A POET, tiny and ruddy faced, squints over his glasses as he reads in a booming voice to an AUDIENCE of thirty seated on folding chairs.

POET Still among the myriad microwaves, the infra-red messages, the gigabytes of ones and zeroes, we find words, infinitesimally small, byte-sized now, tinier even than science lurking in some vague electricity where, if we listen we can hear the solitary voice of that poet telling us, "We are no other than a moving row Of Magic shadow-shapes that come and go Round with the Sun-illumined Lantern hold In Midnight by the Master of the show."

As the POET reads, we STUDY the audience, mostly YUPPIE CULTURE JUNKIES or BOHEMIANS. Among them, a light-haired woman of twenty- eight, soberly dressed, wearing glasses. She's KATHRYN RAILLY. And it's her beeper that suddenly BEEPS. BEEP! BEEP!

POET'S VOICE (o.s.) "The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it."

BEEP! BEEP! Scowling at the outrageous interruption, the POET looks up from the text just as RAILLY, tumbling, shuts off the beeper and rises, embarrassed. As she makes her way to an exit, the glaring POET continues...

POET "Yesterday This Day's Madness did prepare; Tomorrow's Silence, Triumph or Despair: Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why: Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where."


DETECTIVE FRANKI leads RAILLY past crowded holding cells.

FRANKI -- so they get there and they ask the guy real nice for some kind of i.d., and he gets agitated, starts screaming about viruses. Totally irrational, totally disoriented, doesn't know where he is, what day it is, alla that stuff. All they got was his name. They figure he's stoned out of his mind, it's some kinda psychotic episode, so they're gonna bring him...

RAILLY He's been tested for drugs?

FRANKI Negative for drugs. But he took on five cops like he was dusted to the eyeballs. No drugs. You believe that?

FRANKI pauses, indicating a tiny observation window of thick meshed glass in an otherwise solid door, and RAILLY looks through it.

RAILLY'S POV THROUGH THE WINDOW: a MAN, his back to her, in strait-jacket and prison denims, examining the wall of the padded cell with the distorted intensity of a "mental case".

RAILLY You have him in restraints.

FRANKI Were you listening? We got two officers in the hospital. Yeah, he's in restraints, plus the medic gave him enough stellazine to kill a horse. Look at him! Still on his feet.

RAILLY'S POV THROUGH THE WINDOW: the MAN in the cell turns, looks right at her. In spite of the cuts and welts, it's clearly COLE.

RAILLY That would explain the bruises, I guess. The struggle.

FRANKI You want to go in? Examine him?

RAILLY Yes, please. You said he gave a name...

FRANKI (unlocking the door) James Cole. That's everything we got. None of the James Coles on the computer match him. No license, no prints, no warrants. Nothing. You want me to go in with you?

RAILLY (entering) No, thank you.

FRANKI I'll be right here...just in case.


COLE stares at RAILLY. The environment is intensely real...vivid colors...each sound, however slight, very distinct, almost loud... and yet she appears to him almost like a vision.

RAILLY Mr. Cole? My name is Doctor Railly. I'm a psychiatrist. I work for the County -- I don't work for the police. My only concern is your well being -- do you understand that?

COLE I need to go now.

RAILLY I'm going to be completely honest. I'm not going to lie to you. I can't make the police let you go...but I do want to help you. And I want you to trust me. Can you do that, James? May I call you "James"?

COLE "James"! Nobody ever calls me that.

RAILLY (frowns, studies him) Have you been a patient at County? Have I seen you someplace?

COLE No, not possible. Listen, I have to get out of here. I'm supposed to be getting information.

RAILLY What kind of information?

COLE It won't help you. You can't do anything about it. You can't change anything.

RAILLY Change what?

COLE I need to go.

RAILLY Do you know why you're here, James.

COLE Because I'm a good observer. Because I have a tough mind.

RAILLY I see. You don't remember assaulting a police officer...several officers?

COLE They wanted identification. I don't have any identification. I wasn't trying to hurt them.

RAILLY You don't have a driver's license, James? Or a Social Security card?

COLE No. RAILLY Why not? Most people have some ID.

COLE You wouldn't understand.

RAILLY You've been in an institution, haven't you, James? A hospital?

COLE I have to go.

RAILLY A jail? Prison?

COLE Underground.

RAILLY Hiding?

COLE I love this air. This is wonderful air.

RAILLY What's wonderful about the air, James?

COLE It's so clean. No germs.

RAILLY You're afraid of germs?

COLE I have to go.

RAILLY Why do you think there aren't any germs in the air, James?

COLE This is April, right?


COLE (sudden panic) July?!

RAILLY Do you know what year it is?

COLE What year is it?

RAILLY What year do you think it is?

COLE 1995?

RAILLY You think it's July of 1995? That's the future, James. Do you think you're living in the future?

COLE (slightly confused) No, 1995 is the past.

RAILLY 1995 is the future, James. This is 1989.

COLE looks stunned.


COLE, bound tightly by the strait-jacket, heavy manacles on his ankles, is being escorted down the corridor by two surly POLICEMEN.

COLE Where are you taking me?

POLICEMAN #1 South of France, buddy. Fancy hotel. You're gonna love it.

COLE South of France?! I don't want to go to the South of France. I want to make a telephone call.

POLICEMAN #2 smirks as he unlocks a heavy steel door.

POLICEMAN #2 Zip it, scumbag -- you fooled the shrink with your act, but you don't fool us.

Then, POLICEMAN #2 swings the steel door open and sunlight overwhelms COLE, blinding him in a dazzling fury of white light.


A Mini-van, the kind of vehicle used to transport a half dozen prisoners, crawls through a busy street. The Police Department logo is prominent on the side of the van beneath barred windows.


Fierce spray recalls the decontamination in the future. COLE stands stark naked under the shower while two muscular attendants, PALMER and BILLINGS, supervise.

As PALMER shuts off the water, BILLINGS hands COLE a towel and starts inspecting his scalp...

BILLINGS Lemme see your head, Jimbo, see if you got any creepy crawlies.

COLE I need to make a telephone call.

BILLINGS (pulling Cole's head) Gotta work that out with a doctor, Jimbo. Can't make no calls 'til the doctor says.

COLE It's very important.

BILLINGS What chew gotta do, Jimbo, is take it easy, relax into things. We all gonna get along fine if you just relax.

COLE gets the hint of menace in the message and submits to the lice inspection, only his eyes revealing his frustration.


COLE stands in the doorway, stunned by his first sight of the large room. His eyes go to the heavily-grilled windows where light pours in from outside. Then, to the TV, where a CARTOON COMMERCIAL makes raucous noises.

PATIENTS, in K-Mart street clothes or ratty robes, stare gloomily at the TV, or play cards, pace, or just stare blankly.

BILLINGS is at COLE'S side, beckoning to a patient, JEFFREY MASON, a twenty year old white youth dressed in khakis and a plaid shirt.

BILLINGS Jeffrey. Yo! Jeffrey. This here is James. Whyncha show James around? Tell him the TV rules, show him the games an' stuff, okay?

JEFFREY (with a sly look) How much you gonna pay me? Huh? I'd be doing your job.

BILLINGS Five thousand dollars, my man. That enough? I'll wire it to your account as usual, okay?

JEFFREY Okay, Billings. Five thousand. That's enough. Five thousand dollars. I'll give him the Deluxe Mental Hospital Tour.

As BILLINGS walks away chuckling, JEFFREY turns to COLE.

JEFFREY Kid around, kid around. It makes them feel good, we're all pals. We're prisoners, they're the guards, but it's all in good fun, you see?

COLE nods and JEFFREY indicates card tables where PATIENTS are playing cards, checkers, chess, or working on jig saw puzzles.

JEFFREY Here's the games. Games vegitize you. If you play the games, you're voluntarily taking a tranquilizer.

COLE sees a partially completed puzzle of the well-known painting, THE PEACEABLE KINGDOM, depicting a serene world of animals in harmony.

JEFFREY What'd they give you? Thorazine? How much? Learn your drugs -- know your doses.

COLE I need to make a telephone call.

JEFFREY A telephone call? That's communication with the outside world! Doctor's discretion. Hey, if alla these nuts could just make phone calls, it could spread. Insanity oozing through telephone cables, oozing into the ears of all those poor sane people, infecting them! Whackos everywhere! A plague of madness. (suddenly sly and confidential) In fact, very few of us here are actually mentally ill. I'm not saying you're not mentally ill, for all I know you're crazy as a loon. But that's not why you're here. Why you're here is because of the system, because of the economy. (indicating the TV) There's the TV. It's all right there. Commercials. We are not productive anymore, they don't need us to make things anymore, it's all automated. What are we for then? We're consumers. Okay, buy a lot of stuff, you're a good citizen. But if you don't buy a lot of stuff, you know what? You're mentally ill! That's a fact! If you don't buy things...toilet paper, new cars, computerized blenders, electrically operated sexual devices... (getting hysterical) SCREWDRIVERS WITH MINIATURE BUILT-IN RADAR DEVICES, STEREO SYSTEMS WITH BRAIN IMPLANTED HEADPHONES, VOICE- ACTIVATED COMPUTERS, AND...

A woman orderly, TERRY, turns from the feeble PATIENT she's helping.

TERRY Take it easy, Jeffrey. Be calm.

Abruptly, JEFFREY stifles his hysteria, takes a deep breath and continues, completely calm now. But COLE isn't listening. He's mesmerized by the TV.

JEFFREY So if you want to watch a particular program, say "All My Children" or something, you go to the Charge Nurse and tell her what day and time the show you want to see is on. But you have to tell her before the show is scheduled to be on. There was this one guy who was always requesting shows that had already played. He couldn't quite grasp the idea that the Charge Nurse couldn't just make it be yesterday for him, turn back time ha ha. What a fruitcake!!

This last thought actually penetrates COLE'S focus on the TV and he turns to JEFFREY who's picking up speed again.

JEFFREY Seriously, more and more people are being defined now as mentally ill. Why? Because they're not consuming on their own. But as patients, they becone consumers of mental health care. And this gives the so-called sane people work! (hysteria again) WHOOO! SHOCK THERAPY! GROUP THERAPY! HALLUCINATIONS! THERAPEUTIC DRUGS! IGGIDY DIGGIDY DIG! PERFECT! THE SYSTEM IN HARMONY LIKE A BIG MACHINE...

TERRY Okay, that's it, Jeffrey, you're gonna get a shot. I warned you...

JEFFREY (calming himself, smiling) Right! Right! Carried away, heh heh. I got "carried away". Explaining the workings of...the institution.

Just then, TJ WASHINGTON, a somber-looking African American in a bathrobe, taps COLE on the shoulder.

TJ WASHINGTON I don't really come from outer space.

JEFFREY This is TJ Washington, Jim -- he doesn't really come from outer space.

TJ WASHINGTON Don't mock me, my friend. (to Cole) It's a condition of "mental divergence". I find myself on another planet, Ogo, part of an intellectual elite, preparing to subjugate barbarian hordes on Pluto. But even though it's a totally convincing reality in every way...I can feel, breathe, hear...nevertheless, Ogo is actually a construct of my psyche. I am mentally divergent in that I am escaping certain unnamed realities that plague my life here. When I stop going there, I will be well. Are you also divergent, friend?

The P.A. SYSTEM interrupts, startling COLE.

P.A. SYSTEM (v.o.) James Cole. Report to Staff. James Cole!

JEFFREY Staff! Whoo! Time for Staff. Now the geniuses cure you. Hallelujah!


COLE is agitated, speaking forcefully.

COLE This is a place for crazy people! I'm not crazy!

RAILLY, four other PSYCHIATRIC RESIDENTS, including RAILLY'S best friend, MARILOU MARTIN, and their chief, DR. OWEN FLETCHER, sit around a beat-up conference table, watching COLE, who sits facing the doctors, with BILLINGS looming behind him. (Some of the DOCTORS bear a strong resemblance to the SCIENTISTS OF THE FUTURE.)

RESIDENT #1 We don't use that term..."crazy", Mr. Cole.

COLE Well, you've got some real nuts in here! Listen to me, all of you -- I have to tell you something that's going to be difficult for you to understand, but...

DR. RAILLY James...please. These are all doctors here and we want to help you.

DR. FLETCHER Mr. Cole -- last night you told Dr. Railly you thought it was... (checking a file) 1995. ... How about right now? Do you know what year it is right now?

COLE 1989. Look, I'm not confused. There's been a mistake, I've been sent to the wrong place.

Suddenly, COLE reaches out and BILLINGS lunges forward, but COLE is just grabbing a pad and pencil.

COLE Hey, I'm not going to hurt anybody.

FLETCHER restrains BILLINGS with a hand signal.

COLE (drawing) Do any of you know anything about the Army of the Twelve Monkeys? They paint this, stencil it, on buildings, all over the place.

COLE waves a sketch of the dancing monkey logo we saw earlier.

DR. CASEY Mr. Cole...

COLE Right. I guess you wouldn't, this is 1989, they're probably not active yet. That makes sense! Okay. Listen to me, three billion people died in 1995. Three billion, got that? Almost the whole population. Of the world! Only about one percent survived.

DOCTORS exchange knowing looks. This is an old story, apparently.

RESIDENT #2 Are you going to save us, Mr. Cole?

COLE Save you? How can I save you? It already happened! I can't save you. I'm simply trying to get some information for people in the present so that someday... (sees their eyes) You don't believe me. You think I'm crazy. But I'm not crazy. I'm a convict, sure, I have a quick temper, but I'm as sane as anyone in this room. I...

COLE stops, sees DR. FLETCHER tapping his pencil. COLE'S seen that tapping before -- in the future! It disorients him.

DR. RAILLY Can you tell us the name of the prison you've come from?

COLE doesn't answer. He's staring at the tapping pencil.

DR. FLETCHER Does this bother you, Mr. Cole?

COLE (recovering, new tack) No! Look, I don't belong here! What I need to do is make a telephone call to straighten everything out.

DR. FLETCHER Who would you call, Mr. Cole, who would straighten everything out?

COLE Scientists. I'm supposed to report in to them. They'll want to know they sent me to the wrong time.

DR. FLETCHER So you could talk to these scientists and they do what? Send you to the future?

COLE No, no. I can't talk to them. It's called, "voice mail". I'm supposed to leave messages. They monitor it from the present.

RESIDENT #2 "From the present." We're not in the present now, Mr. Cole?

COLE No, no. This is the past. This has already happened. Listen...

RESIDENT #3 Mr. Cole, you belong in 1995 -- that's the present, is that it?

COLE No, 1995 is the past, too. Look...

DR. FLETCHER These scientists, Mr. Cole? Are they doctors like ourselves?

Two of the residents exchange quick knowing looks.

COLE No! I mean yes, but... Look, I've been given a lot of drugs but I'm still perfectly lucid. You have to let me use the phone. One call!

COLE looks desperately toward RAILLY, pleading eyes meeting hers.


Four little KIDS SCREAM and SQUABBLE while the phone CHIRPS insistently in the tiny, cluttered apartment and a harried MOTHER lunges for the phone, answers sharply...

MOTHER Yes? (listens, frowns, then) Whaaaaat? "Voice mail"! I don't know what you're talkin' about. ... Is this a joke? I don't know any scientists. James who? Never heard of you!

The MOTHER slams down the phone.


A dismayed COLE still has the receiver in his hand. Sympathetically, RAILLY takes it from him.

RAILLY It wasn't who you expected?

COLE is clearly agitated, starts to pace, upset. Nuts?

COLE It was some lady. She didn't know anything.

RAILLY Perhaps it was a wrong number...

COLE No. That's the reason they chose me -- I remember things.

RAILLY frowns, studying the distracted man with intense interest. It's clear COLE is becoming a special patient and RAILLY'S cool, detached demeanor is giving way ever so slightly.

RAILLY James, where did you grow up? Was it around here? Around Baltimore?

COLE (lost in thought) What?

RAILLY I have the...strangest feeling I've met you before...a long time ago, perhaps. Were you ever...?

COLE Wait! This is only 1989! I'm supposed to be leaving messages in 1995. It's not the right number yet. That's the problem. Damn! How can I contact them?

RAILLY recovers her distance, her poise, as she takes a bottle, pours out some tablets, and holds them out to COLE.

RAILLY James, take these. (watching him step back) Please -- I helped you like I said I would. Now I want you to trust me.


MR. PONYTAIL races past the startled YOUNG COLE.


Was it JEFFREY wearing gaudy pants and a ponytail? It was definitely JEFFREY'S VOICE.

TRAVELERS dive for cover as a WOMAN'S VOICE cries out...


The TERRIFIED TRAVELER looks up at YOUNG COLE, makes eye contact, but doesn't speak. The TERRIFIED TRAVELER looks a lot like DR. FLETCHER!

Just then, YOUNG COLE is distracted by a running figure. It's the BLONDE MAN in the Hawaiian shirt, but he's not injured. He's sprinting toward the gates, glancing back over his shoulder, his moustache slightly askew!

A sharp CRACK of a GUNSHOT rings out! Then, DAZZLING LIGHT. Everything goes white!


COLE'S eyes blink awake, blinded by a flashlight.

He's lying in one of thirty beds in a darkened ward. Disoriented. Which world is this? The room is full of BREATHING, SNORING, occasional MOANS. He can barely discern the shadowy figures of an ORDERLY and a NURSE, making their rounds, checking each bed.

His eyes adjusting to the darkness, COLE watches them exit.

He turns and sees a patch of moonlight coming in a barred window.

With a quick glance at the sleeping PATIENTS, he slips out of bed, makes his way stealthily to the window, peers out.

COLE'S POV: the moon, glowing in the sky, illuminating a single tree. Under the tree, in silhouette, a COUPLE embraces, kisses.

ANGLE ON COLE, looking out the window, absorbed.

VOICE (o.s.) It won't work. You can't open it.

Alarmed, COLE turns, sees JEFFREY in the next bed.

JEFFREY You think you can remove the grill but you can't. It's welded.

COLE checks the grill anyway.

JEFFREY See? I toldja. And all the doors are locked, too. They're protecting the people on the outside from us. But the people outside are as crazy as us.

COLE has become preoccupied with a small SPIDER creeping along the window sill. He's staring at it when he's distracted by a sudden SOUND. Grabbing the SPIDER, COLE scrambles back into bed just as the door opens and an ORDERLY probes the dark room with the blade of his flashlight.

ANGLE ON COLE, in bed, feigning sleep.

The flashlight clicks off and COLE hears the door close.

For a long moment the ward is silent except for BREATHING, SNORES, occasional MOANS. Then, COLE hears JEFFREY'S hoarse whisper, picking up right where he left off.

JEFFREY You know what "crazy" is? "crazy" is "majority rules". Take germs for example.

Although COLE is preoccupied with the SPIDER struggling to get out of his fist, he can't help reacting to the word, "germs"!

COLE Germs?!

JEFFREY In the 18th century there was no such thing! Nobody'd ever imagined such a thing -- no sane person anyway. Along comes this doctor...Semmelweiss, I think. He tries to convince people... other doctors mostly...that there are these teeny tiny invisible "bad things" called germs that get into your body and make you...sick! He's trying to get doctors to wash their hands. What is this guy...crazy? Teeny tiny invisible whaddayou call 'em?..."germs"!

As JEFFREY warms to his subject, getting excited, COLE tries to figure out where to put the SPIDER.

JEFFREY (cont.) So cut to the 20th century! Last week in fact, right before I got dragged into this hellhole. I order a burger in this fast food joint. The waiter drops it on the floor. He picks it up, wipes it off, hands it to me...like it was all okay.

No alternative. COLE pops the SPIDER in his mouth and swallows it as JEFFREY prattles on...

JEFFREY "What about the germs?" I say. He goes, "I don't believe in germs. Germs are just a plot they made up so they can sell you disinfectants and soap!" Now, he's crazy, right? Hey, you believe in germs, don't you?

COLE I'm not crazy.

JEFFREY Of course not, I never thought you were. You want to escape, right? That's very sane. I can help you. You want me to, don't you? Get you out?

COLE If you know how to escape, why don't you...?

JEFFREY Why don't I escape, that's what you were going to ask me, right? 'Cause I'd be crazy to escape! I'm all taken care of, see? I've sent out word.

COLE What's that mean?

JEFFREY I've managed to contact certain underlings, evil spirits, secretaries of secretaries, and assorted minions, who will contact my father. When he learns I'm in this kind of place, he'll have them transfer me to one of those classy joints where they treat you...properly. LIKE A GUEST! LIKE A PERSON! SHEETS! TOWELS! LIKE A BIG HOTEL WITH GREAT DRUGS FOR THE NUT CASE LUNATIC MANIAC DEVILS...

PATIENTS are waking up as the NURSE and two ORDERLIES burst into the dorm and head straight for JEFFREY who's struggling to calm himself.

JEFFREY Sorry. Really sorry. Got a little agitated. The thought of escaping crossed my mind and suddenly...suddenly I felt LIKE BENDING THE FUCKING BARS BACK, RIPPING OFF THE GODDAMN WINDOW FRAMES AND...EATING THEM, YES, EATING THEM, AND LEAPING, LEAPING...

COLE watches the ORDERLIES grab JEFFREY and haul him away.

JEFFREY You dumb assholes! I'm a mental patient! I'm supposed to act out. Wait til you morons find out who I am. My father's gonna be really upset. AND WHEN MY FATHER GETS UPSET, THE GROUND SHAKES! MY FATHER IS GOD! I WORSHIP MY FATHER.


ANGLE ON TV SCREEN/A VIDEO IMAGE OF A LAB MONKEY, convulsing pathetically, a victim of shocks from the numerous wires attached to his tiny, restrained body.

ANGLE ON COLE, sitting, writing intensely in a magazine with crayon, surrounded by dull-eyed PATIENTS in pajamas and ratty robes, staring at the shuddering LAB MONKEY on the TV screen.

JEFFREY'S VOICE (o.s.) Torture! Experiments! We're all monkeys

COLE locks up, startled, as JEFFREY, one eye bruised black, takes the seat next to him.

COLE They hurt you!

JEFFREY Not as bad as what they're doing to kitty.

ANGLE ON TV, showing a laboratory CAT turning in mad circles, eating its own tail, while a NEWS REPORTER narrates.

TV NEWS REPORTER (v.o.) These video tapes were obtained by animal rights activists who worked underground as laboratory assistants for several months. Authorities say there is little they can do until...

The video footage now shows LAB WORKERS watching the results of their experiments passively.

ANGLE ON COLE, reacting angrily.

COLE Look at those assholes, they're asking for it! Maybe people deserved to be wiped out!

JEFFREY (startled, turning) Wiping cut the human race! That's a great idea! But it's more of a long term thing -- right now we have to focus on more immediate goals. (sudden whisper) I didn't say a word about "you know what".

COLE What are you talking about???

JEFFREY You know -- your plan.

As COLE stares, befuddled, JEFFREY sees COLE'S magazine.

JEFFREY What're you writing? You a reporter?

COLE (shielding the magazine) It's private.

JEFFREY A lawsuit? You going to sue them?

Just then BILLINGS looms over COLE, extending a cup full of pills.

BILLINGS Yo, James -- time to take your meds.


ANGLE ON THE TV, a commercial playing: a beautiful couple romps in the surf in slow motion while an eager NARRATOR encourages...

NARRATOR (v.o.) Take a chance. Live the moment. Sunshine. Gorgeous beaches. The Florida Keys!

ANGLE ON COLE, very drugged, seated in front of the TV along with other drugged PATIENTS, staring at the screen.

ANGLE ON THE TV, showing a picture of the Marx Brothers.

TV AWNOUNCER (v.o.) We'll return to the Marx Brothers in "Monkey Business" following these messages.

JEFFREY'S VOICE (o.s.) Monkey Business! Monk Key Business.

COLE sees JEFFREY sliding into the next chair and smirking. JEFFREY Get it? Monk - Key. Monk! (big grin) Key!

JEFFREY flashes his palm open for one quick moment. A KEY!

COLE (groggy) What....???

JEFFREY Wooooo, they really dosed you, bro. Major load! Listen up -- try and get it together. Focus! Focus! The plan! Remember? I did my part.

COLE What...???

JEFFREY Not, "what", babe! When!


JEFFREY (pressing the key into Cole's hand) Now!

VOICE/TV (o.s.) Let us guide you to the stocks and bonds that will enhance your portfolio.


ANGLE ON TV, almost mimicking JEFFREY with an ad...a BULL and a BEAR and a computer screen showing stock prices fluctuating.

VOICE/TV (v.o.) A portfolio tailored to your specific needs and the needs of your loved ones...

ANGLE ON COLE, dumbfounded, watching JEFFREY dance crazily.


ANGLE ON BILLINGS, across the ward, reacting to JEFFREY, lets go of the OLD MAN he's helping as another orderly, TERRY, presses a beeper, calling for help.

ANGLE ON COLE, flabbergasted, as JEFFREY cavorts around the room.


ANGLE ON A HAND, inserting the last piece into the PEACEABLE KINGDOM JIGSAW PUZZLE. Just then, JEFFREY'S HAND sweeps the puzzle off the table, scattering it into a thousand pieces.

ANGLE ON JEFFREY, dancing away while the PATIENT who just completed the puzzle stares, very upset.

Other PATIENTS are getting agitated, too, as JEFFREY avoids a lunge by BILLINGS and dances off, using PATIENTS as a shield.





ANGLE ON COLE, realizing through the haze of drugs that JEFFREY is sending a message to him. COLE looks at the ward door.

COLE'S POV: the WARD DOOR opens and two husky ORDERLIES enter. One locks the door with a key, one of many on a key ring attached to his belt, as the other ORDERLY rushes to join the pursuit.


BILLINGS (missing a tackle) God damn you, Jeffrey, quit playing the fool.

ANGLE ON COLE, hesitating. He locks at the door...blurring in and out of focus. He looks down at the key in his hand.

ANGLE ON JEFFREY, being grabbed by the ORDERLIES. JEFFREY resists wildly as they struggle to overpower him.


ANGLE ON COLE, moving to the door. He reaches it and tries to insert the key in the lock.

ANGLE ON LOCK, as the key keeps missing the hole.

ANGLE ON COLE, glancing nervously over his shoulder.

COLE'S POV: ORDERLIES swarm over JEFFREY, don't notice COLE.

ANGLE ON COLE, managing to insert the key. It won't turn.

A PATIENT, close at hand, startles COLE, speaking into his ear.

PATIENT Place to go would be...Florida. The keys are lovely this tine of year.

COLE, unnerved, desperate tries the key again. It turns.

PATIENT Be careful. J. Edgar Hoover isn't really dead.

COLE pauses, stares, not understanding. Then, he opens the door.


Stepping through the door, COLE finds himself in an ante-room facing several elevators.

A uniformed SECURITY MAN sitting at a near-by desk doesn't even lock up from the magazine he's reading.

Barely daring to breathe, COLE steps toward the elevators so his back is to the SECURITY MAN. But he doesn't know how to control this elevator. What should he do?

SECURITY MAN'S VOICE (o.s.) Two's not working today. Use one.

COLE freezes, sneaks a glance over his shoulder.

COLE'S POV: the SECURITY MAN continues his reading. He's a big guy with reading glasses perched on his nose. He looks exactly like the MENACING GUARD IN THE FUTURE...SCARFACE!

ANGLE ON COLE, stunned!

Just then, an elevator door slides open. The elevator's empty.

COLE steps into it.


The door closes, isolating COLE in the elevator.

COLE finds the down button, is about to push it when the elevator springs to life. The numbers on the indicator over the door start to rise. 7...8...9.

Then, the elevator stops and the door opens.

Two DOCTORS and an AIDE stand in front of the door, waiting.

COLE hesitates.

They look at him. They seem to expect him to exit.

Avoiding eye contact, COLE exits the elevator.

As they enter the elevator, the DOCTORS look back at COLE and frown.


RAILLY has just arrived for work. She's slipping on her white doctor's coat when...

DR. CASEY, one of the other residents, sticks his head in the door waving a crayoned message on a page torn from a magazine.

DR. CASEY This was in my box, but I have a slight suspicion it wasn't meant for me.

CASEY enters the room, reading the scrawled words dramatically.

DR. CASEY "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. You live in a beautiful world. But you don't know it. You have freedom, sunshine, air you can breathe."

RAILLY (smiling) Cole. James Cole -- right?

She reaches for the note but CASEY moves it out of her grasp.

DR. CASEY "I would do anything to stay here, but I must leave. Please, help me."

RAILLY Poor man...

CASEY is handing her the note when another resident, DR. GOODINS, sticks his head in the door. He's upset.

DR. GOODINS Hey, Kathryn, James Cole is one of yours, right?

RAILLY and CASEY stare at him.

DR. GOODINS He got out. Took off. Last seen, he was up on nine.


A PATIENT is being swallowed by a large tube, a CAT SCANNER, while a DOCTOR in a white coat speaks reassuringly.

DOCTOR Just relax -- don't fight it. We have to know exactly what's there so we can...

The DOCTOR stops, astonished, as the door bursts open.

It's COLE! He stares at the PATIENT and the Cat Scanner.

The PATIENT lifts his head up and stares at COLE.

DOCTOR Eh, excuse me. Can I help you?

COLE turns and rushes back out the door.


COLE steps into the corridor, turns to his right, freezes.

A POSSE of SECURITY GUARDS is headed in his direction.

COLE turns to his left.

Four ORDERLIES are coming that way.

COLE'S trapped. A beat. He attacks the nearest man. BILLINGS.


RAILLY prepares a hypo, turns to COLE who is strapped tightly on a gurney with BILLINGS and an RN standing on either side, tense for more trouble. One of BILLINGS' eyes is starting to swell shut.

RAILLY It's just a shot to calm you.

COLE No more drugs. Please...

RAILLY I have to do this, James. You're very confused.

RAILLY pushes the needle into COLE'S skin.


DR. FLETCHER faces RAILLY across the conference table. DR. CASEY, DR. GOODINS, DR. MARILOU MARTIN are also there.

DR. FLETCHER Don't be defensive, Kathryn, this isn't an inquisition.

RAILLY I didn't think I was being defensive. I was just...

DR. FLETCHER He should have been in restraints. It was bad judgment on your part, plain and simple. why not just cop to it?

RAILLY Okay, it was bad judgment. But I have the strangest feeling about him -- I've seen him somewhere and...

DR. FLETCHER (impatient, not interested) Two policemen were already in the hospital and now we have an orderly with a broken arm and a Security Officer with a fractured skull.

RAILLY I said it was bad judgment! What else do you want me to say?

DR. FLETCHER You see what I mean? You're being defensive. (to Dr. Casey) Isn't she being defensive, Bob?

But just then, BILLINGS sticks his head in the door.

BILLINGS Uh, Dr. Fletcher -- we got another... situation.


DR. FLETCHER looks into an empty padded cell as RAILLY, MARTIN, GOODIN, BILLINGS, PALMER and the NURSE crowd behind him.

DR. FLETCHER He was in full restraints? And the door was locked?

BILLINGS Yes, sir. Did it myself.

DR. FLETCHER And he was fully sedated?

RAILLY He was fully sedated!

DR. FLETCHER Then are you trying to tell me that a fully sedated, fully restrained patient somehow slipped out that vent, replaced the grill behind him and that he's wriggling through the ventilation system right now?

DR. FLETCHER indicates an impossibly tiny vent high in the wall.


Seen through the glass windows, a 747 takes off, climbing into the sky as the airport P.A. System drones...

P.A. SYSTEM Flight 784 to San Francisco now boarding at Gate 38...

YOUNG COLE, watching the 747, whirls at the SOUND of a COMMOTION.

MR. PONYTAIL bumps him.

The BLONDE MAN sprints past. The WOMAN'S VOICE calls out!


TRAVELERS dive for cover briefly revealing the mysterious BRUNETTE running after the BLONDE MAN! But this time, YOUNG COLE catches just a glimpse of her face. She looks a little like RAILLY except for the dark hair, the make-up. and the flashy earrings. She calls out, her VOICE blending weirdly with the P.A. SYSTEM...

BRUNETTE/P. A. SYSTEM The Freedom For Animals Headquarters now boarding on Second Avenue. The Army of the Twelve Monkeys...

ENGINEER'S VOICE (o.s.) Cole, you moron -- wake up!


As COLE blinks awake, the digitized monotone of the P.A. SYSTEM continues to drone in an unearthly VOICE...

UNEARTHLY VOICE/P.A. SYSTEM -- they're the ones who are going to do it...

COLE'S eyes seek the source of the sound and find it on the table in front of the panel of disapproving SCIENTISTS facing him. It's a beat-up old tape recorder.

UNEARTHLY VOICE/TAPE RECORDER I can't do anything more. The Police are after me.

The tape ends, runs off the reel, flap...flap...flap...


COLE Uh, what?

ENGINEER He's drugged out of his mind! He's completely zoned out.

ASTROPHYSICIST Cole, did you or did you not record that message?

COLE Uh, that message...me?

MICROBIOLOGIST It's a digital reconstruction of a message, Cole, from a weak signal on our contact number. Did you make that call?

COLE (angrily) I couldn't call! You sent me to the wrong year! It was 1989.


The SCIENTISTS react, exchanging looks, whispers. Then,

ZOOLOGIST You're certain of that?

GEOLOGIST (before Cole can answer) What did you do with your time, Cole? Did you waste it on drugs? Women?

COLE They forced me to take drugs.

BOTANIST Forced you! Why would someone force you to take drugs?

COLE I got into trouble. I got arrested. But I still got you a specimen -- a spider -- but I didn't have anyplace to put it, so I ate it. It was the wrong year anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter.

The SCIENTISTS stare incredulously, then turn, exchange knowing looks, huddle, start whispering to one another.

Struggling to stay awake COLE sees, blurrily, the MICROBIOLOGIST staring at COLE intently. For one moment, the face belongs to DR. FLETCHER!

COLE blinks hard...and the MICROBIOLOGIST has his own face, again.

COLE'S head slumps forward now...and everything goes dark.



COLE comes awake with a start. The room is dark now, except...

a slide is being projected on a torn screen. It's a picture of a stenciled graffiti...the logo of The Army of the 12 Monkeys.

ENGINEER What about it, Cole?

ZOOLOGIST Did you see it?

COLE Uh, no, sir. I...

Another slide CLICKS into place. Youthful PROTESTERS, their placards featuring slogans and images of Animal Atrocities, confront POLICE in riot gear.

ASTROPHYSICIST What about these people? Did you see any of these people?

Zooming in, panning, the SCIENTISTS emphasize the FACES of the PROTESTERS. The FACES are unfamiliar to COLE (though WE will recognize some of them later on).

COLE (o.s.) Uh, no, sir, I...wait!

The image pans back to a much enlarged blurry FACE among the PROTESTERS. In spite of the poor image, the expression of rage is clear, and it seems to resemble a somewhat older JEFFREY MASON.

ASTROPHYSICIST Him? You saw that man?

COLE Uh, I think so. In the mental hospital.

MICRO3IOLOGIST (switching on the light) You were in a mental institution?!

The SCIENTISTS MUTTER disapprovingly among themselves.

ASTROPHYSICIST You were sent to make very important observations!

BOTANIST You could have made a real contribution.

GEOLOGIST Helped to reclaim the planet...

ZOOLOGIST As well as reducing your sentence.

MICROBIOLOGIST The question is, Cole -- "Do you want another chance?"

COLE stares at them, trying to figure out what they mean.


The BRUNETTE runs up the concourse, her back to YOUNG COLE, as frightened PASSENGERS duck for cover, SHOUTING!

RASPY VOICE (o.s.) Hey! Who's that?


COLE opens his eyes. Where is he? Silence as he examines the tiny cell. Bare cement walls. High ceiling. Same color and size as the isolation room at the county hospital.

RASPY VOICE (o.s.) Hey, Bob...what's your name?

COLE looks around frantically. Up, down. Where is the VOICE coming from? Maybe from that tiny vent high in the wall...

COLE Where are you?

RASPY VOICE (o.s.) You can talk! Wah'dja do, Bobby boy? Volunteer?

COLE My name's not "Bob".

RASPY VOICE (o.s.) Not a prob, Bob. Where'd they send you?

COLE Where are you?

RASPY VOICE (o.s.) Another cell. ... Maybe.

COLE What do you mean, "maybe"? What's that supposed to mean?

RASPY VOICE (o.s.) Maybe. Means "maybe" I'm in the next cell, another "volunteer" like you -- or "maybe" I'm in the Central Office spying on you for all those science bozos. Or, hey, "maybe" I'm not even here. "Maybe" I'm just in your head. No way to confirm anything. Ha Ha. Where'd they send you?

COLE doesn't answer.

RASPY VOICE (o.s.) Not talking, huh, Bob? That's okay I can handle that.

COLE 1989.

RASPY VOICE (o.s.) 89! How was it? Good drugs? Lotsa pussy? Hey, Bob, you do the job? D'ju find out the "big info"?...Army of the Twelve Monkeys...where the virus was prior to mutation?

COLE It was supposed to be 1995.

RASPY VOICE (o.s.) Science isn't an exact science with these clowns. You're lucky you didn't end up in ancient Egypt!


COLE is strapped on a gurney. SCIENTISTS hover near-by, whispering. The walls of the gloomy chamber are damp, sweating.

GEOLOGIST No mistakes this time, Cole.

ASTROPHYSICIST Stay alert. Keep your eyes open.

ZOOLOGIST Good thinking about that spider, Cole. Try and do something like that again.

MICROBIOLOGIST Just relax now -- don't fight it. We have to know exactly what's there so we can fix it.

The gurney is being wheeled into a crudely welded steel tube... reminiscent of the cat scanner in County Hospital.

COLE'S POV: a last glimpse of anxious FACES, then the chamber door is CLANGED shut.



DRIZZLING RAIN. And SCREAMS. COLE'S in a deep trench, naked, eyes wide with terror. What's going on? Where is he? SOLDIERS in gas masks push urgently past him rushing toward their injured COMRADES who've been ripped apart by the shell that just hit fifteen yards away. Muffled VOICES shout through gas masks... in FRENCH. COLE doesn't know it, but this is World War I! Suddenly, a SERGEANT confronts him, shouting in French.

SERGEANT (FRENCH, subtitled) Where's your mask?! And your clothes... and your weapon, you idiot?!

COLE What? What??

COLE looks around desperately. A horribly WOUNDED MAN is being stretchered past them in the narrow trench. Machine guns chatter close at hand. AAK AAK AAK. A grenade EXPLODES. Reacting to the foreign word, the SERGEANT jams his bayonet into COLE'S ribs...

SERGEANT (FRENCH, subtitled) Captain! A Kraut! We got a Kraut!

COLE I don't understand. Where am I?

The CAPTAIN hurries over, snapping at COLE in German.

CAPTAIN (GERMAN, subtitled) How'd you get here, soldier? What's your rank? Where are your clothes?

COLE I...don't understand.

CAPTAIN (frowning, GERMAN, subtitled) German! Speak German! What are you doing here?

VOICE (o.s.) (pleading in English) I gotta find 'em. I gotta find 'em. Please, you gotta help me!

COLE turns, sees...

It's his friend, JOSE, the Puerto Rican kid from the next cell in the "underground" time. He's being carried past COLE now on a stretcher, blood all over his torso, horribly wounded.


JOSE Cole! Oh, God, Cole, where are we?

JOSE reaches out to COLE just as a PHOTOGRAPHER takes a FLASH PICTURE of the kid being carried off on the stretcher. SUDDENLY, SHOTS RING OUT. COLE goes down. Hit in the leg!

SOLDIERS in gas masks rush past him like giant insects.

Looking to his left, COLE sees the CAPTAIN lying beside him, dead from a chest wound, his gas mask half off.

COLE is reaching for the mask when...



Stunningly quiet. We are on a placid campus looking at the dignified architecture of Breitrose Hall. MOVING IN we FOCUS ON a large poster advertising "The Alexander Lectures, Spring 1995". WE SKIM the listings (Jon Else on The Nuclear Agony, Dr. Andrew Miksztal on Biological Ethics, etc.) until we SETTLE ON...



A large screen dominates the auditorium stage. On the screen is a slide of an engraving from the Middle Ages showing a MADMAN in apparent agony, his mouth shaped to a scream, as he is restrained by PEASANTS. The projector ZOOMS slowly in on the agonized FACE of this MADMAN as we HEAR RAILLY'S VOICE lecturing.

RAILLY'S VOICE (o.s.) According to the accounts of local officials at that time, this gentleman, judged to be about forty years of age, appeared suddenly in the village of Wyle near Stonehenge in the West of England in April of 1162. Using unfamiliar words and speaking in a strange accent, the man made dire prognostications about a pestilence which he predicted would wipe out humanity in approximately 8OO years. Deranged and hysterical, the man raped a young woman of the village, was taken into custody, but then mysteriously escaped and was not heard of again.

WE DISCOVER RAILLY, six years older now, standing at a lectern in a pool of light. She's dwarfed by the giant screen where the engraving is replaced by a series of slides of woodcuts showing scenes of pestilence in the Middle Ages as she lectures to an audience of mostly SCHOLARLY TYPES.

RAILLY (cont.) In 1841, Mackay wrote, "During seasons of great pestilence, men have often believed the prophecies of crazed fanatics, that the end of the world was come." Obviously, this plague/doomsday scenario is considerably more compelling when reality supports it in some form, whether it's the Bubonic Plague, smallpox, or AIDS. In addition to these "natural" contagions, there are now technological horrors as well: besides radiation, consider our lurking fear of germ warfare and its close approximation, chemical warfare, which first reared its ugly head in the deadly mustard gas attacks during the First World War.

ON THE SCREEN, a SERIES of SLIDES show images of WORLD WAR I SOLDIERS in gas masks, in death throes, etc..

RAILLY'S VOICE (cont. o.s.) During such an attack in the French trenches in October, 1917, we have an account of this soldier...

ON THE SCREEN, a slide of an old deteriorated photograph shows JOSE, the Puerto Rican kid, strapped to a stretcher, being carried by SOLDIERS through the trenches during an attack. JOSE appears to be ranting madly as the projector ZOOMS CLOSER on his face until the image approximates Munch's famous painting.

RAILLY'S VOICE (cant. o.s.) -- who, during an assault, was wounded by shrapnel and hospitalized behind the lines where Doctors discovered he had lost all comprehension of French but spoke English fluently, albeit in a regional dialect they didn't recognize. The man, although physically unaffected by the gas, was hysterical. He claimed he had come from the future, that he was looking for a pure germ that would ultimately wipe mankind off the face of the earth in the year... 1995!

The AUDIENCE gives a nervous CHUCKLE.

ON THE SCREEN, a different old photograph of JOSE. This time he's in a military hospital, gaunt, haunted, very ill.

RAILLY'S VOICE (cont. o.s.) Although seriously injured, the young soldier disappeared from the hospital before more data could be gathered. No doubt, he was trying to carry on his mission to warn others, substituting for the agony of war...a self-inflicted agony we call the "Cassandra Complex".

As RAILLY continues, we SCAN the AUDIENCE and DISCOVER MARILOU MARTIN, RAILLY'S friend, and MARILOU'S HUSBAND, WAYNE CHANG, both listening attentively. Further away, another MAN listens intently. A MAN with shoulder-length carrot-colored hair. His name is DR. PETERS.

RAILLY (cont.) Cassandra, in Greek legend you will recall, was condemned to know the future but to be disbelieved when she foretold it. Hence, the agony of foreknowledge combined with impotence to do anything about it.


A stack of new books. THE DOOMSDAY SYNDROME, Apocalyptic Visions of the Mentally Ill by Dr. Kathryn Railly

Surrounded by enthusiastic members of the audience, RAILLY is seated at the table signing books but DR. PETERS has her ear.

DR. PETERS I think, Dr. Railly, you have given your alarmists a bad name. Surely there is very real and very convincing data that the planet cannot survive the excesses of the human race: proliferation of atomic devices, uncontrolled breeding habits, the rape of the environment, the pollution of land, sea, and air. In this context, isn't it obvious that "Chicken Little" represents the sane vision and that Homo Sapiens' motto, "Let's go shopping!" is the cry of the true lunatic?

DR. PETERS smiles self-importantly at RAILLY as an elderly disheveled PROFESSOR elbows in front of him. DISHEVELED PROFESSOR Doctor Railly -- please! I wonder if you're aware of my own studies which indicate that certain cycles of the moon actually impact on the incidence of apocalyptic predictions as observed in urban emergency rooms and...

As the PROFESSOR babbles, MARILOU MARTIN and her husband, WAYNE CHANG, appear and whisper...

MARILOU You were great.

RAILLY You're leaving?

MARILOU The reservation's at nine thirty -- it's getting late.

DISHEVELED PROFESSOR Doctor Railly -- please -- this is very important!

WAYNE CHANG (checking the professor) You sure you're gonna be all right?

RAILLY (smiles, checks her watch) I'll be there in twenty minutes.

DISHEVELED PROFESSOR Dr. Railly, I simply cannot understand your exclusion of the moon in relation to apocalyptic dementia...


A full moon.

COLLEAGUES in a VOLVO pull out of the parking lot, calling, "Congratulations" to RAILLY.

She waves back as she hurries to her black ACURA, one of the last cars left in the lot.

The outside lights of Breitrose Hall go off.

RAILLY seems to be alone in the lot as she fishes keys from her purse, unlocks her car door, starts to open it when...

Suddenly, she's grabbed from behind in a choke-hold by a large shadowy MAN looming out of the darkness behind her.


Unable to scream, she writhes and kicks as he forces her into the front seat.

MAN'S VOICE I've got a gun.

RAILLY freezes, terrified, as he opens the rear door and scrambles in behind her.


Fighting to suppress the quaver in her voice, RAILLY says...

RAILLY You can have my purse. I have a lot of cash and credit...

MAN'S VOICE (o.s.) Start the car.

Glancing in the rear view mirror, RAILLY sees penetrating eyes peering out of the shadows, no other features.

Half-turning in the seat, she holds out the keys to him.

RAILLY Here! You can have the keys. You can...

He grabs her hair and yanks her head back hard, speaking fiercely into her ear, his face last in shadow.



The engine STARTS, the Acura backs up, then heads for the exit.


Steering fearfully, RAILLY hears him speak more calmly now.

MAN'S VOICE (o.s.) I don't want to hurt you. But I will. I've hurt people before when...when I had no choice. Turn left.

As she makes the turn, RAILLY glances in the rear view mirror, sees him unfolding a tattered map. His face is lost in darkness but she glimpses ragged, torn clothing as he tries to read the map by the intermittent glow of passing street lights.

RAILLY Where... where are we going'

MAN I need you to drive me to Philadelphia.

RAILLY (startled, horrified) But that's... that's more than 200 miles!

MAN That's why I can't walk there. Turn here... I think...

RAILLY obeys. She glances in the mirror again, hesitates, then boldly switches on the dome light, holding her breath fearfully for his reaction.

He grunts appreciatively. Relieved, she looks in the mirror again, trying to get a better look at him, but now his features are concealed by the map.

RAILLY If you make me go with you, it's kidnapping. That's a serious crime. If you let me go, you could just take the car and...

MAN I don't know how to drive! We went underground when I was nine, I told you that. When you come to the corner, turn right.

Startled, RAILLY whirls, looks right at him.

He's lowered the map. It's COLE! Haggard, unshaven, dirty.

RAILLY Cole! James Cole! You escaped from a locked room six years ago.

COLE 1989. Six years for you. There's the sign! Right here!

COLE is indicating a freeway entrance.

RAILLY turns the wheel sharply.


The Acura veers up the ramp and onto the freeway.


RAILLY glances in the mirror, sees COLE settling back wearily against the seat. She says carefully...

RAILLY I can't believe this is a coincidence, Mr. Cole. Have you been...following me?

COLE You told me you'd help me. I know this isn't what you meant, but...I was desperate... no money...bum leg... sleeping on the streets. I probably smell bad. Sorry about that. But then I saw your book in a store window with a notice about your lecture. (sudden pride) I can read, remember?

RAILLY Yes, I remember. (a beat, then) Why do you want to go to Philadelphia?

COLE It's the next step. I checked out the Baltimore information, it was nothing. It's Philadelphia, that's where they are, the ones who killed everyone. (pointing suddenly, eagerly) Zs that a radio? Does it play music?

RAILLY turns on the radio and immediately WE HEAR the SOUND of SURF and the CRIES of gulls, background to an oozing baritone COMMERCIAL.

COMMERCIAL/RADIO (o.s.) This is a personal message to you.

COLE sits up, alert, listening intently.

COMMERCIAL/RADIO (cont. o.s.) Are you at the end of your rope? Are you dying to get away?

COLE'S eyes narrow, concentrating on this personal message.

COMMERCAIL/RADIO (cont. o.s.} The Florida Keys are waiting for you.

COLE frowns as the SOUND of breaking SURF and crying GULLS fills the car. It's confusing! He blurts out...

COLE I've never seen the ocean!

Observing his confusion in the mirror, RAILLY assumes her professional tone.

RAILLY It's an advertisement, Mr. Cole. You do understand that, don't you? It's not really a special message to you.

COLE frowns. He did think it was for him, but she's probably right.

COLE You used to call me "James".

RAILLY You'd prefer that? ... James...you don't really have a gun, do you.

COLE (cynical laugh) Everybody's got a gun. In this city...

He breaks off reacting to the RADIO MUSIC! FATS DOMINO singing "BLUEBERRY HILL"! COLE grins, mouth agape, eyes wide like a kid's.

COLE Can you...can you make it louder? I love hearing twentieth century music! Hearing music and breathing air!

As RAILLY cranks up the volume, she watches the mirror incredulously, sees him stick his head out the window into the wind, mouth open, "eating" the air hungrily.


"BLUEBERRY HILL" BLARES as the Acura, COLE'S head out the rear window, zips past a sign at 65 mph.

The sign says, "PHILADELPHIA 233 MILES."


RAILLY glances in the mirror at the nut in the rear seat with his head out the window. what can she do? Just then, while she's trying to figure something out, an ANNOUNCER'S VOICE breaks in...

ANNOUNCER/RADIO (o.s.) This just in from Fresno, California: emergency crews are converging on a cornfield where playmates of nine year old Ricky Neuman say they saw him disappear right before their eyes.

COLE pulls his head back inside with a frown, troubled now.

ANNOUNCER/RADIO (cont. o.s.) Young Neuman apparently stepped into an abandoned well shaft and is lodged somewhere in the narrow 150 foot pipe, possibly alive, possibly seriously injured. Playmates claim they heard him cry out faintly but since then there has been no contact with...

COLE "Never cry wolf!"


COLE My father told me that. "Never cry wolf." Then people won't believe you if...something really happens.

RAILLY "If something really happens"...like what, James?

COLE Something bad. Is that all the music? I don't want to hear this stuff...

RAILLY glances at him as she scans stations.

RAILLY Did something terrible happen to you when you were a child? Something so bad...?

COLE Ohhhh, that one! Can we hear that one?


IVORY JOE/RADIO (o.s.) "Since I met you, baby, My whole life has changed...

Ecstatic, COLE sticks his head out the window again.


COLE'S POV: the heavens, glittering with a million stars and a lover's moon as IVORY JOE croons the achingly romantic lyrics...

IVORY JOE/RADIO (cont. o.s.) "-- cause since I met you, baby. All I need is you..."

ANGLE ON COLE, wind in his hair, eyes shining, gulping air blissfully.


Two POLICE OFFICERS and an anxious MARILOU MARTIN listen to an answering machine's message while a hungry CAT cries plaintively.

ANSWERING MACHINE Dr. Railly -- this is Palmer from Psych Admitting. There was a guy here this afternoon looking for you. He seemed very agitated. We tried to keep him, but he refused 'n I kept thinking, I know this guy. Then, just a few minutes ago, it came to me. It's Cole! James Cole. Remember him? The paranoid who pulled the Houdini back in '89. Well, he's back and he's...cuckoo...and he's looking for you. I thought you oughta know.

The machine switches off. The POLICE OFFICERS exchange a look.

MARILOU MARTIN It's just as I told you -- my husband and I had gone ahead -- she never showed. That's totally unlike her!

OFFICER TWO (pulls out his notebook) Do you happen to know the make of her car?

MARILOU MARTIN Um...Acura...'92 Acura. ... Also, that cat's starving! She would never neglect her cat!


The ACURA is parked outside room 46 of the HIGHWAYS & BYWAYS MOTEL, which has definitely seen better days.


The TV is on. A commercial is just starting. A catfood jingle.


ANGLE ON COLE, sweating, BREATHING HEAVILY, sprawled on one side of the double bed, sound asleep.


GUNSHOT! YOUNG COLE glimpses the BLONDE MAN staggering, wounded.

The mysterious BRUNETTE races past him toward the BLONDE MAN, and YOUNG COLE again glimpses the resemblance to RAILLY, in spite of the dark hair, the make-up, the flashy earrings.

Close at hand, YOUNG COLE'S FATHER, his face still out of view, says,

FATHER'S VOICE (o.s.) Son, it's important for your cat to have the nourishment necessary for healthy bones and a rich coat.


COLE comes awake with a start. He stares, disoriented, at the CATFOOD COMMERCIAL on the TV.

RAILLY'S VOICE (o.s.) Please untie me. I'm very uncomfortable.

COLE turns to RAILLY, beside him on the bed, frightened and helpless, her jacket arranged to restrain her like a strait-jacket.

COLE'S instinct is to free her at once, but he controls his impulse. He looks away, gets up, and, wincing, limps to the dresser, stepping around empty fast-food cartons. He pulls a razor and shaving soap from a paper bag, then goes into the bathroom, leaving the door open, and starts to shave.

COLE You were in my dream just now. Your hair was different, but I'm sure it was you.

RAILLY We dream about what's important in our lives. And I seem to have become pretty important in yours. What was the dream about?

COLE About an airport...before everything happened. It's the same dream I always have -- the only one. I'm a little kid in it.

RAILLY And I was in it? What did I do?

COLE You were very upset. You're always very upset in the dream, but I never knew it was you before.

RAILLY It wasn't me before, James. It's become me now because of...what's happening. Please untie me.

Finished shaving, COLE re-enters the bedroom, toweling his face.

COLE No, I think it was always you. It's very strange.

RAILLY You're flushed. And you were moaning. I think you're running a fever. What are you doing?

COLE is rummaging through RAILLY'S wallet, pulling out money.

COLE I'll be back in a minute.

He heads for the door.

RAILLY No! Don't leave me here like this!

Too late! He shuts the door behind him, leaving her alone.

ANGLE ON THE TV SCREEN, where an ANCHORMAN sits at a News Set.

TV ANCHORMAN And in Fresno, California...crews continue to attempt to rescue nine year old Ricky Neuman.

ANGLE ON RAILLY, twisting and struggling on the bed, trying to get loose, tears welling in her eyes.

TV ANCHORMAN (cont. o.s.) The boy was playing ball with four other children when he literally disappeared off the face of the earth.


COLE puzzles over a junk food vending machine, inserts coins tentatively.


ANGLE ON TV, the picture of RAILLY filling the screen.

----------------------- PAGE 52 MISSING -----------------------

COLE My notes. Observations. Clues.

RAILLY Clues? What kind of clues?

COLE A secret army. The Army of The Twelve Monkeys. I've told you about them. They spread the virus. That's why we have to get to Philadelphia. I have to find them -- it's my assignment.

RAILLY What will you do...when you find this...secret army?

COLE I just have to locate the virus in its original form before it mutates. So scientists can come back and study it and find a cure. So that those of us who survived can go back to the surface of the earth.

RAILLY maintains a professional deadpan, says nothing as they pass a pickup truck with a MOTHER, FATHER, and five KIDS in the back.

COLE stares at the KIDS, a sad look in his eyes.

COLE You won't think I'm crazy next month. People are going to start dying. At first the papers will say it's some weird fever, some virus. Then they'll begin to catch on. They'll get it.

RADIO NEWSCASTER (o.s.) We interrupt this program with a special bulletin...

RAILLY and COLE both react to the radio, suddenly alert.

RADIO NEWSCASTER (o.s.) This report just in from Fresno, California. Naval sonar specialists who were flown to the site...

COLE I thought it was about us. I thought maybe they'd found us and arrested me or something.

RAILLY stares at COLE.

COLE Just a joke.

RADIO NEWSCASTER (o.s.) -- an hour ago have been unable to determine the location of the boy in the 150 foot shaft...but a TV sound man who lowered an ultra-sensitive microphone into the narrow tube claims he heard breathing sounds coming from approximately seventy feet down...

COLE reaches over and changes stations. MUSIC again.

RAILLY Does that disturb you, James? Thinking about that little boy in the well?

COLE When I was a kid I identified with that kid, down there alone in that pipe...a hundred feet down -- doesn't know if they're going to save him.

RAILLY What do you mean -- when you were a kid?

COLE Nevermind. It's not real -- it's a hoax. A prank. He's hiding in a barn. Hey, turn left here. Left!

COLE quickly checks the map as RAILLY stares, then turns left.


An elderly EVANGELIST with long stringy hair, wearing a tattered bathrobe, stands on a Skid Row corner WAVING a worn Bible as he rants at disinterested DERELICTS, WINOS, and BAG LADIES.

EVANGELIST "And the wild beasts of the islands shall cry in their desolate houses and dragons in their pleasant palaces: and her time is near to come, and her days shall not be prolonged."

ANGLE ON RAILLY'S ACURA, crawling down the street, RAILLY driving, COLE, beside her, staring out the window.


COLE is scrutinizing the crumbling walls, boarded-up store fronts, tattered posters, decaying signs, miserable "RESIDENTS".

COLE Where I come from we think of this as Eden. If we could just see the sun, eat sun-grown food. Eden! Look at them! They donut know what they have. They don't see the sky. They don't feel the air!

COLE'S POV: a BMW speeds toward them, passes, its radio BLARING!

COLE (o.s.) And the ones who aren't hungry are so smug they haven't a clue. WAIT! STOP!


On foot now, COLE pulls an astonished RAILLY to a wall covered with graffiti, a hopeless tangle of symbols, words, and crude pictures.

Clueless, RAILLY stares at the wall, then at COLE.

COLE touches a bit of red-stenciled graffiti hidden under gang insignias. We can just see TWELVE MONKEYS holding hands in a circle.

COLE The Twelve Monkeys!!! They're here. (looks around) Somewhere. Come on!

He pulls her along the sidewalk. No question, he's insane.

At the next alley entrance, COLE stops abruptly. Then, still keeping a firm grip on RAILLY'S arm, he starts ripping down newly tacked-up posters announcing a Rap concert.

RAILLY stares at him, then turns and is looking all around when, suddenly, COLE pulls her up tight and threatens...

COLE Look, I'm warning you. You do anything, I'm going to go crazy -- hurt people!

RAILLY I'm not going to "do" anything, I promise. But you need help, James. None of this is what you think it is.

ANGLE ON COLE, not listening, staring triumphantly! He's found another partially obscured stencil of THE TWELVE MONKEYS!

But just then, a raspy VOICE startles COLE.

RASPY VOICE (o.s) You can't hide from them, Bob.

COLE whirls, sees a derelict, LOUIE, leering at him, speaking in a voice eerily like the RASPY VOICE from the next cell in the future.

LOUIE No, sir, Old Bob -- don't even try. (conspiratorially) They hear everything. They got that tracking device on you. They can find you anywhere. Anytime. Ha Ha!

RAILLY looks from LOUIS to COLE, sees COLE'S stunned reaction.

LOUIE (touches his back jaw) In the tooth, Bob! Right? (sudden triumphant grin) But I fooled 'em, old buddy!

He opens his mouth wide. NO TEETH'

COLE grabs RAILLY and pulls her into the alley and down it.




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