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John looks back and sees this wall of metal almost filling the narrow concrete canal and he milks every last bit of throttle the little bike has. The Kenworth is all muscle, tearing along the canal like a train in a tunnel. Its big tires send up huge sheets of muddy spray, backlit in the setting sun. It looks like some kind of demon. And... it's gaining.

Above them, on the service road running parallel, Terminator is fighting to overtake them. He looks down and sees John with the tow- truck from Hell catching up to him. It is only about twenty feet behind him and still gaining. In the canal, looking back past a desperate John, at the wall of metal filling frame behind him.

Above, Terminator cuts the bike suddenly hard to the left, leaving the road. Hitting an earth embankment just right, he jumps the bike into the air like Steve McQueen in "The Great Escape" and vaults the fence bordering the canal. It slams down at the edge of the canal and tears along, inches from the drop-off on a dirt path, accelerating past the truck in the canal below.

John hits some water and slews momentarily, loosing speed. The massive push-plate on the front of the truck slams into his back fender. Panicked, he pulls a little ahead. All this is happening at about sixty miles and hour. Top speed for the little dirt bike.

Terminator jumps the bike again. This time the 700-pound Harley sails out into space and drops into the canal. It arcs down between the truck and John, hitting on its wheels. It bottoms out, an explosion of sparks under the frame. Only the ultra-fast reflexes of a machine could keep the bike upright. Terminator fights for control.

He guns the throttle and the powerful bike roars up beside John's tiny Honda. Terminator sweeps the kid off his machine with one arm and swings him onto the Harley, in front of him. John's Honda weaves and falls, smashing instantly under thundering tires. The Harley roars ahead. It hits eighty. Ahead is an overpass, and supporting it is an abutment which bisects the canal into two channels.

The Harley thunders into one channel, which is essentially a short tunnel. The truck can't fit on either side. Neither can it stop, at that speed. Tires locked, it slides on the muddy concrete and piles into the concrete abutment at seventy. Terminator and John emerge from the tunnel, looking back to see a fireball blasting through behind them as the truck's side-tanks explode.

Terminator stops the Harley. John peers around his body to see the destruction. A burning wheel wobbles out of the tunnel and flops in the mud. Terminator revs the bike and they roar away, down the canal, disappearing around a bend.

ANGLE ON THE FIRE, as a column of black smoke rises from the overpass. Smoke boils from the tunnel as well, and inside it is a solid wall of flame. A figure appears in the fire. Just an outline. Walking slowly... calmly. The figure emerges from the flames. It is human-shaped but far from human. A smooth chrome man.

Not a servo-mechanism like Terminator is underneath, with its complex hydraulics and cables... this thing is a featureless, liquid chrome surface, bending seamlessly at knees and elbows as it walks. It reminds us of mercury. A mercury man. Its face is simple, unformed. Unruffled by thousand-degree heat, it walks toward us. With each step detail returns.

First the shape and lines of its clothing emerge from the liquid chrome surface, then finer details... buttons, facial features, ears... But it's still al chrome. With its last step, the color returns to everything. It is the cop again... handsome young face, blond hair, mustache. Icy eyes. It stops and looks around. It is a perfect chameleon. A liquid metal robot. A killing machine with the ultimate skills of mimicry for infiltration of human society.

ANGLE NEARBY, as several police cruisers and a fire truck pull up. T-1000 climbs out of the canal behind them. More cops arrive. T-1000 blends in perfectly. There are always cops at diasters and scenes of violence. We now see why its choice of protective mimicry is so perfect. It walks among the other cops unnoticed. Gets into one of the squad cars. Starts it and drives away.

EXT. SIDE STREET - NIGHT Terminator, with John in front of him on the Harley, roars down the empty street. John cranes his neck around to get a look at the person/thing he is riding with. The image is strangely reminiscent of father/son, out for an evening ride. John is still in shock from the experience of what just happened and he's just a ten-year kid, but he's also John Connor who will someday rise to greatness, and we see a bit of that in him even know.

JOHN: Whoa... time out. Stop the bike!

Terminator immediately complies. He leans the bike into a turn. They head into a nearby alley.

EXT. ALLEY Terminator and John rolls into the alley and come to a stop. John slides off the gas tank. Terminator impassively stares at him. John checks him out. Tentatively speaks.

JOHN: Now don't take this the wrong way, but you are a terminator, right?

TERMINATOR: Yes. Cyberdyne Systems, Model 101.

JOHN: No way!

John touches Terminator's skin. Then the blood on his jacket. His mind overloads as the reality of it hits him.

JOHN: Holy shit... you're really real! I mean... whoah! (stepping back) You're, uh... like a machine underneath, right... but sort of alive outside?

TERMINATOR: I'm a cybernetic organism. Living tissue over a metal endoskeleton.

JOHN: This is intense. Get a grip, John. Okay, uh... you're not here to kill me... I figured that part out for myself. So what's the deal?

TERMINATOR: My mission is to protect you.

JOHN: Yeah? Who sent you?

TERMINATOR: You did. Thirty years from now you reprogrammed me to be your protector here, in this time.

John gives him an amazed look.

JOHN: This is deep.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT John and Terminator on the bike again, weaving through the side streets. They blend into the evening traffic. In the darkness, Terminator's wounds are not readily visible. John cranes his head up and back.

JOHN: So this other guy? He's a terminator too, right, like you?

TERMINATOR: Not like me. A T-1000. Advanced prototype. A mimetic polyalloy.

JOHN: What does that mean?

TERMINATOR: Liquid metal.

JOHN: Radical.

TERMINATOR: You are targeted for termination. The T-1000 will not stop until it complete its mission. Ever.

John mulls that over.

JOHN: Where we going?

TERMINATOR: We have to leave the city, immediately. And avoid the authorities.

JOHN: Can I stop by my house?

TERMINATOR: Negative. The T-1000 will definitely try to reacquire you there.

JOHN: You sure?


EXT. PAYPHONE: John is quickly going through his pockets for change. He has plenty of bills but no quarters.

JOHN: Look, Todd and Janelle are dicks but I gotta warn them. Shit! You got a quarter?

Terminator reaches past John and smashes the cover plate off the phone's cash box with the heel of his hand. A shower of change tumbles out. Terminator hands one to John. John dials.

INT. VOIGHT HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Janelle Voight picks up the kitchen phone and cradles it with her shoulder which she continues to chop vegetables with a large knife. She answers sweetly.

JANELLE : Hello?

JOHN (filtered through phone): Janelle? It's me.

In the backyard, John's German Shepherd is going bonkers, barking at something.

JANELLE: John? Where are you, honey? It's late. You should come home, dear. I'm making a casserole.

At the payphone, John listens, an odd look on his face. He covers the phone's mouthpiece and turns to Terminator.

JOHN (whispering): Something's wrong. She's never this nice.

In the Voights' kitchen, Todd comes through the kitchen's back door. Just home from work. He ignores Janelle and opens the fridge. Grabs a carton of milk. Takes a sip. Frowns at the dog's barking.

TODD: What the hell's the goddamn dog barking at? SHUT UP, YOU MUTT!

Todd growls around the kitchen behind Janelle. He passes out of frame next to her. Janelle switches the phone to her other hand then... THUNK! Her free hand seems to do something out of frame. There is a gurgling, and the sound of liquid dribbling onto the floor. (Don't go away. We'll find out what happened in a moment)


JOHN: The dog's really barking. Maybe it's already there. What should I do?

Terminator takes the phone from John's hand. Janelle's voice is floating through the receiver.

JANELLE (filtered): John? John, are you okay?

Terminator speaks into the phone in a perfect imitation of John's voice...

TERMINATOR (in John's voice): I'm right here. I'm fine. (to John, a whisper) What's the dog's name?

JOHN: Max.

Terminator nods. Speaks into the phone.

TERMINATOR : Hey, Janelle, what's wrong with Wolfy? I can hear him barking. Is he okay?

JANELLE (filtered): Wolfy's fine, honey. Where are you?

Terminator unceremoniously hangs up the phone. Turns to John.

TERMINATOR: Your foster parents are dead. Let's go.

Terminator heads for the bike. John, shocked, stares after him.

INT. VOIGHT HOUSE/KITCHEN: Janelle hangs up the phone. Her expression is neutral. Calm.

PAN OVER along her arm, which is stretched out straight from the shoulder. Partway along its length her arm has turned smoothly into something else... a metal cylinder which tapers into a sword-like spike.

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