The Fugitive Page #4

INT. BEDROOM - CLOSE ON .38 SMITH AND WESSON - NIGHT

Lies on the floor, beside Helen's legs and the receiver of

phone, off the hook. A man's rubber-gloved hand picks up the

gun.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. DOWNSTAIRS - STAIRS - NIGHT

Kimble starts up the stairs to the bedroom...

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

Helen's hand reaches out presses the cradle down, dials

ON KIMBLE:

Climbing the stairs... suddenly stops.

A small white ball on the stairs. He bends down and picks

it up... a pearl.

KIMBLE:

Helen?

Silence. He can see directly into the bedroom. It's quiet.

Too quiet. He notices a lampshade on the floor.

UPSTAIRS HALL - NIGHT

Kimble moves slowly to the opened doorway. And just before

he enters he sees a large form in the crack behind the door.

Adrenal surge.

Kimble slams the door back on the figure knocking the gun

free. Before Kimble can move to it a forearm flattens him.

The attacker immediately goes for the gun. Kimble grabs a

leg and twists him down, the man's fingers hit the gun,

sending it skittering across the hardwood floor of the

landing and over the edge - three flights to the entry

hall below.

SIRENS can be heard. Distant but APPROACHING.

The man kicks free and tries to flee. This time Kimble

catches an arm and twists it at an unnatural angle. To his

shock, the limb detaches between the shoulder and elbow.

Kimble looks at the arm in his hands - it's hollow.

Electrodes are visible inside - then to the man's unreadable

face...

The SIRENS are LOUDER...

Before Kimble can recover, the One-Armed Man knocks Kimble

down and grabs back his arm. He runs down the stairs.

Kimble pulls himself up and starts to follow but is stopped

by a VOICE behind him in the bedroom...

HELEN (O.S.)

He's here... still in the house...

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

Lying by the bed, Helen Kimble, clutches the phone with one

hand, her head with the other.

911 (V.O.)

Did I hear you right? Your attacker

is still in the house? Ma'am?

HELEN:

He's trying to kill me...

Kimble appears. Helen drops the phone when she sees him.

911 (V.O.)

Will you repeat that please?

HELEN:

(to Kimble)

Richard... He's trying to kill me...

my head.

EXT. KIMBLE'S TOWNHOUSE - NIGHT

Two Chicago police cars wheel to the curb, COPS move quickly

to the house.

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

Kimble moves to her. Sees the necklace of bruises where she

was held down and choked. And then a bullet wound in her

leg. She's already going into shock. Her speech turns thick.

KIMBLE:

Hang on, babe... going to be all

right.

Her fingernails dig into Kimble's arm, trying to hold on.

HELEN:

My head. Richard my hold me.

Her eyes slip away from his. He peels away the hand on her

head - and sees raw pummeled brain staring back and realizes

she won't be all right.

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