HUNTER

                                                               89

 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
 
 178     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - JUNGLE - NIGHT                178
 
         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.

 180     EXT. HUNTER - NIGHT                                  180
 
         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.

 182     EXT. HUNTER - NIGHT                                  182
 
         Continues on, moving silently down through the canyon.
 
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                                                               90

 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.

 183-A   EXT. THE HUNTER - NIGHT                              183-A

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

 183-B   EXT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT                                183-B

         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.

 183-C   EXT. THE HUNTER - NIGHT                              183-C

         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.

 183-D   EXT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT                                183-D

         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.

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                                                               91

 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.

 185-A   EXT. HUNTER - NIGHT                                  185-A

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

 185-B   EXT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT                                185-B

         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

 198     INT. HUNTER. SOMEWHERE IN THE BOULDERS - NIGHT       198

         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.

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                                                               92

 200     INT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT                                200

         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.

                                                      (CONTINUED)
 
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                                                               93

 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.

 205     INT. HUNTER - SOMEWHERE IN THE BOULDERS - NIGHT      205

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

 205-A   EXT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT                                205-A

         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.
 
                                                      (CONTINUED)

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