THE LOST WORLD
JURASSIC PARK

screenplay by
David Koepp

based on the novel by
Michael Crichton
EXT. TROPICAL LAGOON - DAY

A 135-foot-luxury yacht is anchored just offshore in a
tropical lagoon. The beach is a stunning crescent of white
sand at the jungle fringe, utterly deserted.

ISLA SORNA
87 miles southeast of Nublar

Two SHIP HANDS, dressed in white uniforms, have set up a
picnic table with three chairs on the sand and are carefully
laying out luncheon service -- fine china, silver, crystal
decanters with red and white wine.

PAUL BOWMAN, fortyish, sits in a chair off to the side,
reading. MRS. BOWMAN, painfully thin, with the perpetually
surprised look of a woman who's had her eyes done more than
once, supervises the settings of the table.

She looks up and sees a little girl, CATHY, seven or eight
years old, wandering off down the beach.

MRS. BOWMAN
Cathy! Don't wander off!

Cathy keeps wandering.

MRS. BOWMAN (cont'd)
Cathy, come back! You can look for
shells right here!

Cathy gestures, pretending she can't hear.

BOWMAN
(eyes still in his book)
Leave her alone.

MRS. BOWMAN
What about snakes?

BOWMAN
There's no snakes on a beach. Let
her have fun, for once.

FURTHER DOWN THE BEACH,

Cathy keeps wandering away, MUTTERING to herself as her
parents' quarreling voices fade in the distance.

CATHY
Please be quiet, please be quiet
please be quiet...

Rounding a curve in the beach, her parents disappear from view
behind her. A RUSTLING sound draws her attention, and she
turns, toward where the thick jungle foliage gives way to the
sand.

A large bush, maybe twelve feet tall, is moving, its branches
swaying and shaking. Curious, Cathy walks up to the bush,
which abruptly stops moving.

A small, lizard-like animal, dark green with brown stripes
along its back, steps out from the bush. Only about a foot
tall, it stands on its hind legs, balancing on its thick tail.
It walks upright, bobbing its head like a chicken.

CATHY
Well, hello there!

The animal (a COMPSOGNATHUS) just stares at her. Cathy squats
down on her haunches.

CATHY (cont'd)
What are you? A little bird or
something?

She opens her hand. She's got a handful of goldfish crackers.

CATHY (cont'd)
Are you hungry? You want a goldfish?

The compy bobs forward a few steps, cautiously.

CATHY (cont'd)
Come on. I won't hurt you.

The compy draws closer. Cathy holds the cracker in the palm
of her hand. The compy gets closer still --

-- and hops numbly up onto Cathy's palm. Her arm dips a bit
under the weight, but it's not that heavy, and she holds it up
easily. It bobs its head, scarfs up the goldfish, and eats
it.

Enchanted, Cathy breaks into an enormous grin and returns her
hand, calling back over her shoulder.

CATHY (cont'd)
Mom! Dad! You gotta come see this!
I found something!

She turns back.

Thirty more compys have come out onto the sand. They're
standing there, bobbing anxiously, staring at her from a few
feet away. Cathy's smile fades.

She turns her head slowly to the right. TWENTY MORE COMPYS
have come in from that side, forming a semi-circle, bobbing
and CHIPPING as they surround her.

CATHY (cont'd)
(terrified)
What do you guys want?

BACK ON THE BEACH,

the table is set. Mrs. Bowman calls out.

MRS. BOWMAN
Cathy, sweetheart! Lunch is ready!

From around the curve of the beach, a flock of birds bolts
from the jungle trees as Cathy's shrill SCREAMS suddenly
pierce the air.

MRS. BOWMAN
PAUL!

She takes off, running down the beach, Mr. Bowman leaps out of
his chair and follows, and all available deck hands race off
to help, kicking up geysers of sand behind them.

DOWN THE BEACH,

Mrs. Bowman stops dead in her tracks when she rounds the bend
in the beach. We don't see what she sees, but we hear the
frenzied SQUEAKING of the strange compys. Mr. Bowman and the
Hands race past her to help Cathy as Mrs. Bowman lets loose a
horrified, slack-jawed SCREAM, her mouth a perfect oval.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. BOARD ROOM - DAY

Mrs. Bowman's screaming face dissolves slowly over the
YAWNING face of a bored CORPORATE EXECUTIVE, TWENTY OTHER
EXECUTIVES sit around a conference table in the boardroom of a
monied corporation. All are in expensive suits, most are over
sixty. There are rows of BACKBENCHERS too, whispering in their
lawyers who sit behind their clients, whispering in their
ears. Empty coffee cups and fast food containers on the table
hint that everyone's been here a long time.

A familiar VOICE resounds through the boardroom as we move
down the long table, pat the grim faces of the board members.

VOICE (O.S.)
The hurricane seemed like a disaster
at the time, but now I think it was a
blessing, nature's way of freeing
those animals from their human
confines. Of giving them another
chance to survive, but this time as
they were meant to, without man's
interference.

The source of the voice is JOHN HAMMOND, the founder of InGen
and creator of Jurassic Park. But he's not in the room. His
image is on a closed circuit TV screen, which has been wheeled
up to the end of the table.

And he doesn't look good. He's terribly infirmed, propped up
in bed, his face pale and drawn, medical equipment BEEPING
around him.

HAMMOND (cont'd)
There are some corporate issues that
are not about the bottom line. We
have so much still to learn about
those creatures. A whole world of
intricate, interlocking behaviors,
vanished everywhere -- except for
Site B. Please. Let's not do what
is good for more men at the expense
at what is best for all mankind.

The CHAIRMAN, seventyish, nods awkwardly to the television.

CHAIRMAN
Thank you, John. Mr. Ludlow?

He turns to PETER LUDLOW, late thirties, a man with the
anxious look of someone who insists the buck stop on his desk.
Ludlow flips open a file, pulls out a stack of black and white
eight by tens, and tosses them on the table.

LUDLOW
(an accent similar to
Hammond's)
These pictures were taken in a
hospital in Costa Rica forty-eight
hours ago, after an American family
on a yacht cruise stumbled onto Site
B. The little girl will be fine, but
her parents are wealthy, angry, and
very fond of lawsuits. But that's
hardly new to us, is it?
(takes a paper from the
file)
Wrongful death settlements, partial
list: family of Donald Gennaro, 36.5
million dollars; family of Robert
Muldoon, 12.6 million. Damaged or
destroyed equipment, 17.3 million.
Demolition, de-construction, and
disposal of Isla Nublar facilities,
organic and inorganic, one hundred
and twenty-six million dollars. The
list goes on, gentlemen -- research
funding, media payoffs. Silence is
expensive.

He's warming up. Not a bad performer.

LUDLOW (cont'd)
This corporation has been bleeding
from the throat for four years. You,
our board of directors, have set
patiently and listened to ecology
lectures while Mr. Hammond signed
your checks and spent your money.
You have watched your stock drop from
seventy-eight and a quarter to
nineteen flat with no good and in
sight. And all along, we have held a
significant product asset that we
could have safely harvested and
displayed for profit. Enormous
profit.

He reaches out to a model on the table and gives it a shove,
sending it sliding down the length of the table in front of
them. It's a mini-mall version of a zoo. Cages hold tiny
replicas of various kinds of dinosaurs while Boy Scout troops
and Tourists look on in wonder.

LUDLOW (cont'd)
Enough money to wipe out four years
of lawsuits and damage control and
unpleasant infighting, enough to not
only send our stock back to where it
was but to double it. And the one
thing, the only thing standing
between us and this asset is a
born-again naturalist who happens to
be our own CEO. Well, I don't work
for Mother Nature. I work for you.

Two of his Backbenchers distribute documents from a stack.
Ludlow takes one and reads from it.

LUDLOW (cont'd)
'Whereas the Chief Executive
Officer has engaged in wasteful and
negligent business practices to
further his own personal
environmental beliefs --
Whereas these practices have
affected the financial performance
of the company by incurring
significant losses --
Whereas the shareholders have been
materially harmed by these losses --
Thereby, be it resolved that John
Parker Hammond should be resolved from
the office of Chief Executive
Officer, affective immediately.' Mr.
Chairman, I move the resolution be
put to an immediate vote. Do I have
a second?

BOARD MEMBER
I second the motion, Mr. Chairman,
Please poll the members by a show of
hands.

The CHAIRMAN signs heavily, feeling like a traitor. He can't
bear to look at Hammond on the TV monitor.

CHAIRMAN
All those in favor of InGen Corporate
Resolution 213C, please signify your
approval by raising your right hand.

It starts slowly, guiltily, but every hand in the room goes
up. Ludlow sits back, victorious. Hammond, furious, raises
his right hand, which holds a remote control, and points it at
the TV screen. It goes blank.

CUT TO:

EXT. WELDER'S YARD - NIGHT

Sparks fly out the windows and doors of a shed in the middle
of a welder's yard. Scrap iron and steel lies everywhere.
Somewhere inside the shed, a phone RINGS.

The WHOOSH of the arc welder shuts off. DIETER STARK, a big
barrel-chested man of forty or so, his face streaked with soot
and grime, steps outside with a cordless phone, a cigarette
dangling from his lips.

DIETER
Yeah.

He takes a deep drag while someone talks on the other end. He
smiles and blows out a cloud of smoke.

CUT TO:
INT. NEW YORK SUBWAY - NIGHT

Smoke turns into steam as a subway THUNDER into a station
underneath Manhattan. The door WHOOSH open, spit out some
COMMUTERS and suck up a few more.

A tall man hurries down the platform, limping heavily, moving
as fast as he can. The subway doors begin to close, but just
before they meet --

-- the man jams a cane in between, stopping them. The man
is IAN MALCOLM, fortyish, dressed in black from head to toe.
There's a hard wisdom in Malcolm's eyes that may not have been
there's a few years ago -- he know what you think, and he
doesn't care.

INT. SUBWAY CAR - NIGHT

MALCOLM finds a seat on the crowded subway car and sits down.
He looks awful. Tired. Weathered. He notices a CURIOUS MAN
across from his is staring at his. Malcolm looks away. The
Curious Man still stares. Nervy, the Curious Man gets up and
approaches.

MALCOLM
(under his breath)
Shit.

The Curious Man sits down next to Malcolm, grinning.

MAN
You're him, aren't you?

MALCOLM
Excuse me?

MAN
The guy. The scientist. I saw you
on TV.
(conspiratorially)
I believed you.

No response from Malcolm. The guy leans in even closer.

MAN (cont'd)
Roooooarr.

MALCOLM
(a withering look)
I was misquoted. I was merely
speculating on the evolutionary
scenario of a Lost World. I never
said I was in any such place.

He gets up and moves to another seat on the car, away from the
Curious Man. As he sits down, he notices two other COMMUTERS
across from him are staring at him.

He looks at them. They looks away.

He pulls the collar of his coat up tight around him. Nowhere
to hide.

INT. JOHN HAMMOND'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

A UNIFORMED BUTLER has a question:

BUTLER
Whom shall I tell Mr. Hammond is
calling?

MALCOLM stands in the foyer of an expensively decorated Park
Avenue apartment.

MALCOLM
Ian Malcolm

A door opens and a little dog comes YAPPING out of the back.
It bounds straight at Malcolm, GROWLING, jaws SNAPPING. It
lunges --

-- and Malcolm BATS it away with one swift swing of his cane.
The dog rolls across the floor and slinks away, WHINING. The
Butler looks at Malcolm disapprovingly.

BUTLER
Not an animal lover?

MALCOLM
Not really.

INT. HAMMOND'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

MALCOLM enters a darkened bedroom. JOHN HAMMOND lies in the
bed we saw earlier, on the other side of the room;

Medical equipment has been disguised as well as possible among
the furniture and flowers, but the sheer abundance of it tells
us that whatever has stricken him is going to win this battle.

HAMMOND
Ian! Don't linger in the doorway
like an ingenue, come in, come in!

Malcolm steps further into the room.

HAMMOND (cont'd)
It's good to see you. It really is.
How's the leg?

MALCOLM
Resentful.

HAMMOND
When you have a lot of time to think,
it's funny who you remember. It's
the people who challenged you. It is
the quality of our opponents that
gives our accomplishments meaning. I
never told you how sorry I was about
what happened after we returned.

Noticing Hammond's deteriorated condition, Malcolm finds it
hard to sustain anger.

MALCOLM
I didn't know you -- weren't well.

HAMMOND
It's the lawyers. The lawyers are
finally killing me.

MALCOLM
They do have motives. Why did you
want to see me? Your message said it
was urgent.

HAMMOND
You were right -- and I was wrong.
There! Did you ever think you'd hear
me say that? Spectacularly wrong.
Instead of observing those animals, I
tried to control them. I squandered
an opportunity and we still know next
to nothing about their lives. Not
their lives as man would have them,
behind electric fences, but in the
wild. Behavior in their natural
habitat, the impossible dream of any
paleontologist. I could have had it,
but I let it slip away.
(pause)
Thank God for Site B.

Malcolm just looks at him for a long moment.

MALCOLM
What?

HAMMOND
(a spark in his eye)
Well? Didn't it all seem a trifle
compact to you?

MALCOLM
What are you talking about?

HAMMOND
The hatchery, in particular? You
know my initial yields had to be low,
far less than one percent, that's a
thousand embryos for every single
live birth. Genetic engineering on
that scale implies a giant operation,
not the spotless little laboratory I
showed you.

MALCOLM
I don't believe you.

HAMMOND
Isla Nublar was just a showroom, Ian,
something for the tourists, Site B
was the factory floor. We built it
first, on Isla Sorna, eight-some
miles from Nublar.

MALCOLM
No, no, no, no, no, no . . .

HAMMOND
After the accident at the park, a
hurricane wiped out our facility on
Site B. We had to evacuate and leave
the animals to fend for themselves.
And they did. For four years I've
fought to keep them safe from human
meddling, now I want you to go there
and document them.

MALCOLM
Are you out of your mind? I still
have nightmares, my reputation's a
joke, my leg is shot -- you think I
need more of that?

HAMMOND
It would be the most extraordinary
living fossil record the world has
ever seen.

MALCOLM
So what?

Hammonnd picks up a thick file folder from the night table near
to him and open it on his lap. Inside, there are memos,
charts, maps and photographs.

HAMMOND
I've been putting this together for
over a year.
(MORE)
I have personal suggestions for your
entire team, phone numbers, contact
people. They won't believe you about
what they're going to see, so don't
bother trying to convince them. Just
use my checkbook to get them there.
I'll fund your expedition through my
personal accounts, as such money and
equipment as you need, but only if
you leave immediately. If we
hesitate, all will be lost.

MALCOLM
John . . .

HAMMOND
You'll need an animal behaviorist,
someone with unimpeachable
credentials. I believe you already
know Sarah Harding. She's got
theories about parenting and
nurturing among hunter/scavengers I
bet she'd be dying to prove on a
scale like this. If you convince her
to go, it'll be a major coup. When
she publishes, the scientific
community must take it seriously.

Malcolm just shakes his head, flipping through the file sadly.

HAMMOND
Your documentation, you should use
forensic photographic methods,
Hasselbladt still cameras, high
definition video. When the trick
photography analysts take your
evidence apart, make it impossible
for them to say there was enhancement
or computer graphic imaging. Oh,
this is very important -- avoid the
island interior at all costs. Stick
to the outer rim. Everything you
need to know can be found there.
Vindication lies on the outer rim.

Malcolm gently closes the file and pushes it back to Hammond.

MALCOLM
I'm not going, John.

HAMMOND
(fatigue returning)
Ian, you are my last chance to give
something of real value to the world.
I can't walk so far and leave no
footprints; die and leave nothing
with my name on it. I will not be
known only for my failures. And you
will not allow yourself to go down in
history as a lunatic. You're too
smart. You'e too proud. Dr.
Malcolm. Please. This is a chance
at redemption. For both of us.
There's no time to equivocate, we
must seize it now, before --

He stops, staring over Malcom's shoulder. Malcom turns.
PETER LUDLOW, still in his overcoat, is standing in the
doorway to the bedroom. He looks back and forth from Hammond
to Malcolm suspiciously.

LUDLOW
Hello, Uncle John. Dr. Malcolm.

Malcolm doesn't answer. He seems to know Ludlow, and dislikes
him.

LUDLOW (cont'd)
Did I interrupt something?

Malcolm turns back to Hammond.

MALCOLM
Find someone else.

CUT TO:

INT. HAMMOND'S APARTMENT/FOYER - NIGHT

In the foyer, LUDLOW hands MALCOLM his coat, just a trifle
rudely, and shepherds him to the door.

LUDLOW
So, you two were just, uh, telling
old campfire stories, were you?

MALCOLM
Do me a favor. Don't pretend for a
second that you and I don't know the
truth. You can convince Time
magazine and the Skeptical Inquirer
of whatever you want, but I was
there.

LUDLOW
You signed a non-disclosure agreement
before you went to the island that
expressly forbade you from discussing
anything you saw. You violated that
agreement.

MALCOLM
You cost me my livelihood. That on
which I relied to support my
children.

LUDLOW
If your university felt you were
causing it embarrassment by selling
wild stories to Hard Copy, I hardly
see how I am to--

MALCOLM
I didn't tell anything, I told the
truth.

LUDLOW
You version of it.

MALCOLM
There are no versions of the truth!
This isn't a corporate maneuver, it's
my life.

LUDLOW
We made a generous compensatory offer
for your injuries.

MALCOLM
It was a payoff and an insult. InGen
never--

LUDLOW
InGen is my livelihood, Dr.
Malcolm, and I will jealously defend
its interests. People will know what
I want them to know when I want them
to know it.

Ludlow tosses something to Malcolm, hard. It sails across the
foyer, upright, and Malcolm reaches out and catches it with
one hand. It's his cane.

LUDLOW (cont'd)
Don't forget that.

Malcolm stares at him for a long moment. Finally, he turns
and walks away.

But he does not out of the apartment. Instead, he
walks directly past Ludlow, crosses the living room, and steps
back into Hammond's bedroom, closing the door behind him with
a determined CLICK.

INT. HAMMOND'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

HAMMOND looks up, hopeful, as MALCOLM comes back into the room
and walks over to his bed. He reaches down --

-- and picks up the file folder.

MALCOLM
Do you have a satellite phone?

CUT TO:

INT. MOMBASSA BAR - DAY

ROLAND TEMBO, late sixties, skin like leather and the diamond
hard look of a cobra, sits at a table in the middle of an
African cafe/bar in Mombassa.

It's daytime and the place is half full, mostly with locals,
but there are a few obnoxious TOURISTS too, Americans on
safari who somehow found the local handout.

They're a noisy bunch, but Roland tunes them out, calmly
eating his lunch and drinking a beer while he reads a book,
eyeglasses hanging low on his nose.

Roland suddenly stops reading and furrows his brow. He looks
up. He SNIFFS the air once, then smiles and calls out a
person's name.

ROLAND
Ajay?

He turns around. AJAY (AH-jay) SIDHU, a wiry East Indian in
his late forties, is standing behind him, caught trying to
sneak up.

AJAY
(delighted)
How did you know?

ROLAND
(taps his nose)
That cheap aftershave I send you
every Christmas, you actually wear
it. I'm touched. Sit down, sit
down, what brings you to Mombassa?

AJAY
You. Tell me, Roland, when was the
last time you answered your phone?

ROLAND
Last time I plugged it in, I suppose.
Why?

Behind them, the group of TOURISTS, all men, laughs loudly.
One of them, the MOST OBNOXIOUS TOURISTS, berates the WAITRESS.

AJAY
I got a call from a gentleman who's
going to Costa Rica, or thereabouts.
If he's to be believed, it's a most,
uh, unique expedition. And very
well-funded.

ROLAND
Well, I'm a very well-funded old son
of a bitch. You go.

The Most Obnoxious Tourist bellows for the Waitress. His
buddies LAUGHS. Roland throws a glance, annoyed.

AJAY
But alone? We always had great
success together, you and I.

ROLAND
Just a little bit too much, I
think.

AJAY
How do you mean?

ROLAND
A true hunter doesn't mind if the
animal wins. If it escapes. But
there weren't enough escapes from you
and me, Ajay. I've decided to spend
a bit less time in the company of
death. Maybe I just feel too close
to it my--

The Waitress comes to the Tourists' table and the Most
Obnoxious Tourist actually paws her ass. Roland is out of his
chair in a second.

ROLAND (cont'd)
(to Ajay)
Excuse me.

Romand walks over to the Tourists' table, says something to
the Waitress in the local dialect, and she walks away, behind
him. He stares down at the Most Obnoxious Tourist.

ROLAND (cont'd)
You, sir -- are no gentleman.

TOURIST
Is that supposed to be an insult?

ROLAND
I can think of none greater.

The Tourist looks at his Buddies and laughs.

TOURIST
Buzz off, you silly old bastard.

ROLAND
What do I have to do to pick a fight
with you, bring your mother into it?

TOURIST
Are you kidding? I could take you
with one arm tied down.

ROLAND
Really?

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FLOOR,

the Waiter finishes tying a man's wrist to his belt in the
back of his pants with a napkin. He pulls the knot tight and
the man turns around.

It's Roland, with his arm tied down. The Tourist stands
across from him.

TOURIST
I mean my arm.

POW! Roland punches him square in the jaw. The Tourist
reels, stunned. Enraged, he lunges at Roland, swinging with
both arms.

Roland bobs, neatly ducking the punches, waits for the Tourist
to turn around, and POPS him thrice in the face. The Tourist
spins and goes down to the floor, face first. A cloud of
sawdust and a loud CHEER from the locals rise up in the bar.

BACK AT HIS TABLE,

Roland drops the napkin on the table and sits back down with
Ajay. In the background, the Tourist's Buddies hurriedly
carry their fallen cohort out of the bar.

ROLAND
Sorry. We were saying?

AJAY
You broke that idiot's jaw for no
reason other than your boredom. Tell
the truth, Roland. Aren't you even
interested in knowing this
expedition's quarry?

ROLAND
Ajay. Go on up to my ranch, take a
look around the trophy room, and tell
me what kind of quarry you think
could possibly be of any interest
to me.

Ajay just smiles.

CUT TO:

EXT. AFRICAN SAVANNAH - NIGHT

The African savannah appears in shades of fluorescent green,
seen through night-vision goggles. An ANIMAL YELP comes from
the left and the green vista sweeps abruptly toward it. The
world blurs momentarily, then comes into focus on a field of
long grass.

The grass ripples in a complex pattern as animals move
stealthily through it. One animal head pops up above the
grass for a split-second, teeth bared, a white stripe between
its eyes. SARAH HARDING pulls the goggles away from her face.

SARAH
Hyenas. Ace Face is the striped
snout.

Sarah is thirty, with a compact, athletic body built for the
outdoors. She loos through the goggles again, sweeping ahead
of the hyenas to their prey.

It's a herd of African buffalo, standing belly-deep in the
grass, agitated, bellowing and stamping their feet.

Sarah turns to MAKENA, her African assistant.

SARAH (cont'd)
They'll try to take down a calf.
Come on.

MAKENA
Closer?

Sarah scurries up and over a rock face. Makena follows.
Closer now, they watch as the hyenas rush the herd, running
through it, trying to break it up.

MAKENA (cont'd)
You know, we could see everything
from up on the edge of that cliff.

SARAH
No way.

MAKENA
But the view would --

SARAH
No cliffs.
(into a pocket recorder)
F1 headed sough, F2 and F5 flanking,
twenty yards. F3 center. F6
circling wide east. Can't see F7.

While she talks, breathless, fascinated by the drama before
her, Sarah continues to creep closer and closer to the action.
Makena follows, with growing unease.

MAKENA
Sarah.

SARAH
F8 circling north. F1 straight
through, disrupting. Herd moving,
stamping. There's F7. Straight
through. F8 angling through from the
north.

She's practically on top of the animals now.

MAKENA
Dr. Harding.

Makena has a hold of Sarah's sweatshirt and is tugging her
back, at least trying to slow down her progress as Sarah,
wide-eyed with fascination, creeps even closer.

Suddenly there is a tremendous BELLOWING and the grass right
in front of them rips apart, trampled under the feet of the
hyenas as they cluster around a fallen buffalo calf. They
yelp and jump, their muzzles bloody.

The adults move aside, making room as the hyena pups come
forward, squealing to get at the kill. Sarah's eyes shine
with excitement and she moves even closer, whispering into the
tape recorder.

SARAH
Brooding behavior in evidence at the
kill site, pups are ushered forward
and adults help them eat, pulling
flesh away from the carcass and--

A telephone rings.

Sarah stops in mid-sentence, unsure if she heard what she
thought she heard. It rings again, the unmistakable CHIRPING
of a cellular phone. Sarah and Makena both move at once,
pawing at a backpack.

SARAH (cont'd)
(a frantic whisper)
I thought you turned it off!

Two hyenas look inquisitively in the direction of the phone.
Sarah comes up with it and jabs at a button in irritation.

SARAH (cont'd)
Yes?!

Someone speaks on the other end. Sarah rolls her eyes.

SARAH (cont'd)
Ian. This better be important.

Sarah doesn't say anything for a long moment, just listens as
the voice on the other end talks. And talks.

SARAH (cont'd)
When?

CUT TO:

INT. MOBILE FIELD SYSTEMS - DAY

Ian Malcolm's leg, badly scarred, is bared and draped over the
end of a bench. Two sandbags are fastened to his ankle and
MALCOLM is lifting them, painfully rehabbing his injury while
talking on a satellite phone.

MALCOLM
We leave in twenty-four hours. Five
member team.

Behind them, the SPARKS of a acetylene torch fly as WORKMEN
make modifications on several vehicles, including a dark-green
Mercedes Benz AAV (all-activity vehicle). The hood of the AAV
is up and the V-6 engine has been pulled out; a new, smaller
engine is lowered in its place. To one side are two long
trailers, connected by an accordion-like passageway, like on a
subway car, allowing one to be towed behind the other.

MALCOLM
Eddie Carr's handling all our
equipment and he'll be there to
maintain it. He's designing special
field trailers now, top of the line
mobile research units.

EDDIE CARR, fortyish, is barking out orders to the Workmen.

EDDIE
No, no, look at the plans, Henry,
you can't place that strut laterally,
it has to be crosswise, LOOK AT THE
PLANS!

From the ceiling, a large metal age CRASHES down, landing
next to them on the floor with a deafening CLANG. They leap
back and look up. A WORKMAN waves from a scaffolding.

WORKMAN
Sorry, Eddie! Specs say it can't
deform at 12,000 PSI, we had to test
it

Eddie bends down to inspect the cage, which is rectangular,
constructed of inch-thick titanium-alloy bars. Malcolm hangs
up the phone and walks up, joining him.

MALCOLM
Any damage?

EDDIE
Minimal.

MALCOLM
'Minimal' is too much. It has to be
light, it has to be strong --

EDDIE
Light and strong, light and strong,
sure, why not, it's only impossible.
God save me from academics.

MALCOLM
You are an academic.

EDDIE
Former academic. Now I actually make
things. I don't just talk.

MALCOLM
You think I'm all talk, Eddie?

EDDIE
(doesn't look at him)
It doesn't matter what I think.

MALCOLM
Is there anything we've forgotten?
Anything at all?

Behind them, someone CLEARS THEIR THROAT. Eddie and Malcolm
turn around. KELLY MALCOLM, an African-American girl around
twelve years old, stands in the doorway to the garage, a
duffel bag slung over one shoulder. She looks at Malcolm and
breaks into a wide grin.

KELLY
Hi, Dad.

MALCOLM
Kelly! What are you doing here?

She drops the bag on the floor, and wraps her arms around him
in a warm embrace. He responds stiffly.

KELLY
Vacation. I'm all yours. You didn't
forget, did you?

She pulls back and looks at him.

KELLY (cont'd)
Did you?

CUT TO:

INT. EDDIE'S OFFICE - DAY

KELLY is slumped in a chair in Eddie's office next to the
construction floor. Outside the glass windows work on the
vehicles continues unabated. MALCOLM hangs up the phone.

MALCOLM
Okay, Karen is expecting you in half
an hour. You only have to stay with
her one night, she'll put you on a
bus in the morning and your mother
will be at the station when you get
there.

KELLY
I don't even know this woman.

MALCOLM
Well, I do, and she's fantastic.
She'll take you to the museum, maybe
to a movie if you play your cards
right. You're going to have a
fantastic time.

KELLY
Stop saying fantastic. Where are you
going?

MALCOLM
I can't tell you. But I'll be back
within a week.

KELLY
My vacation is over in a week.

MALCOLM
I'll make it up to you this summer.
I promise.

KELLY
I'm your daughter all the time, you
know. Not just when it's convenient.

MALCOLM
Very hurtful. Your mother tell you
to say that?

KELLY
No, Dad. I have thoughts of my own
once in a while.

From the construction floor, EDDIE calls out.

EDDIE (o.s.)
Dr. Malcolm!

Malcolm looks at her, trying to make peace. Quickly.

MALCOLM
Is that kid still bothering you?

KELLY
Which one?

MALCOLM
You know, at the bus stop. With the
hair?

KELLY
That was about a year ago.

MALCOLM
Well, is he?

KELLY
No. Richard talked to his parents.

MALCOLM
That Richard.

EDDIE (o.s.)
Ian, come here a minute!

KELLY
(to Malcolm)
I could come with you.

MALCOLM
Out of the question. You'd miss the
gymnastics trials. You've been
training for that for a year.

KELLY
I don't care about the trials, I
want to be with you. I could be your
research assistant, like I was in
Austin.

MALCOLM
This is nothing like Austin. Forget
about it.

KELLY
You like to have kids, you just
don't want to be with them, do you?

He looks at her, hurt. Eddie calls out a third time,
impatient now. Grateful for the escape, Malcolm gets up and
heads for the door. He pauses guiltily.

MALCOLM
I'm not like you wan me to be. I've
what I can be.

He leaves.

INT. MAIN FLOOR - DAY

While MALCOLM and EDDIE argue over something in the
background, KELLY circles around the trailers and looks up at
the windows. They're all made of tempered glass, fine wire
mesh inside it. She looks around, to see if anybody's
watching. They're not, so she quickly slips inside the front
trailer.

INT. TRAILER - DAY

Inside, the trailer is a miracle of planning and design. It's
divided into sections, for different laboratory functions.
The main area is a biological lab, with specimen trays,
dissecting pans, and microscopes that connect to video
monitors.

Next to it there's an extensive computer section, a bank of
processors, and a communications section. All the lab
equipment is miniaturized and built into small tables that
slides into the walls. Everything is bolted down.

She notices a large map on the wall. Off the coat of Costa
Rica, there is an area that has been circled in heavy black
ink.

Kelly puts a finger on the map, crossing westward, through the
Pacific Ocean. Thegre are dozen s of islands out here, but in
the highlighted region, there is a semi-circle of five.
Matanceros. Muerte. Tacano. Pena. And Sorna. Underneath
the whole island chain, there is a bold legend.

'The Five Deaths,' it says.

Slowly, an ocean barge starts to chug its way across the
face of the map, leaving a wake that rolls the printed letters
of those three ominous words.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. OPEN SEA - DAY

The map dissolves slowly away as the barge SPALASEHS through
five foot ocean swells in the open sea. The barge is crammed
with equipment, the AAV, trailers, a jeep, and the members of
Malcolm's team.

ON THE BOAT,

MALCOLM stands in the bow, riding the choppy seas. Next to
him, DR. JUTTSON, fortyish, holds onto the railing,
seasick. He SHOUTS over the DRONE of the boat's engines.

JUTTISON
(as the waves pound the
boat)
Couldn't -- we just -- airlift --
into the -- island?

MALCOLM
Dr. Harding insisted we go by sea!
Helicopters are too disruptive.
These aren't piles of bones you'll be
studying this time, Dr. Juttson, they
live, they breathe, and they react!

Juttson looks at him skeptically --

-- and throws up.

AT THE BACK OF THE BOAT,

NICK VAN OWEN, a good-looking American in his late
twenties, is sitting amid a pile of video cameras and other
photographic equipment, playing with a Game Bow. SARAH
HARDING, dressed in field gear, sits down next to him.

SARAH
So what's your story, Nick?

NICK
I was a cameraman for Nightline for
six years, been freelance since '91.
Do a lot of work for Greenpeace.

SARAH
That must be interesting. What drew
you there?

NICK
Women. 'Bout eighty percent female
in Greenpeace.

SARAH
Very noble of you.
(of the noisy Game Boy)
You don't think you're bringing that
thing onto the island, do you?

Nick grins and shuts it off.

NICK
Hey, I wouldn't want to spook the
woolly mammoths.

SARAH
You think this is all a joke?

NICK
Oh, please. How am I supposed to
keep a straight face when --
(gestures to the
black-clad Malcolm)
-- Johnny Cash here tells me I'm
going to Skull Island?

SARAH
(not amused)
Ian's a very good friend of mine.

NICK
He doesn't need a friend, he needs a
shrink.

SARAH
I believe in him.

But her face says even she has her doubts.

NICK
Come on, there's only one reason any
of us are here. His check cleared.

She looks at him.

SARAH
Drop the cynical pose. You can't
pull it off while playing Donkey
Kong.

The boat's CAPTAIN, a Costa Rican, points ahead and SHOUTS to
them.

CAPTAIN
There it is!

They all turn and look out over the bow. Up ahead, shear,
reddish-gray cliffs of volcanic rock rise dramatically out of
the fog-heavy ocean.

CAPTAIN (cont'd)
Isla Sorna!

The boat ROARS ahead, plowing into a heavy wreath of fog. The
mist swirls and encircles it.

EXT. ISLAND FIORD - DAY

A narrow inlet cuts through the steep cliffs, leading to the
island interior. The barge bursts through the fog at the
mouth of the fiord and heads deeper into the island.

EXT. LAGOON - DAY

Lush green plants drip everywhere in this verdant lagoon.
Sulfurous yellow steam issues from the ground, bleaching the
nearby foliage white. In the distance one can hear the cries
of JUNGLE BIRDS.

The boat is now beached and the CREW flips the tarps off the
AAV, the jeep, and the trailers. The trucks back down a
narrow ramp and onto the soft clay shore at the edge of the
lagoon. There is a large three-toad animal imprint in the
clay at the water's edge, and the AAV backs right over it,
swapping its track for the animal's.

MALCOLM is at the edge of the water with the CAPTAIN.

MALCOLM
Be back in three days, but keep the
satellite phone on and your radio
tuned to the frequency I specified in
case we need you sooner.

CAPTAIN
Don't worry. I've lived around here
all my life, these islands are
completely --

In the distance, they hear the faint, strange ROAR of a very
large animal. The Captain looks at Malcolm, eyes wide.

CAPTAIN (cont'd)
-- safe.

CUT TO:

EXT. GRASSY PLAIN - DAY

The jeep tows the double trailer to the edge of a grassy plain
just beyond the lagoon, overlooking the interior of the
island. The noon sun is high overhead; below, the valley
shimmers in midday heat.

EDDIE connects a flexible cable to the jeep's power winch and
flicks it on. The cable turns slowly in the sunlight. Moving
along the length of it, we see the cable leads to a pile of
aluminum, some kind of strut assembly painted a camouflage
color.

As the winch pulls the cable tight, the jumble of thin struts
begins to move, slowly rising into the air. The emerging
structure climbs, spidery, struts unfolding, fifteen feet into
the air. The light house at the top (the cage that was
tested back at Eddie's workshop) is now just beneath the
lowest branches of the nearby trees, which almost conceal it
from view.

NICK lights a cigarette and carelessly tosses the match on the
ground. Malcolm notices.

MALCOLM
Listen. I know you all have probably
concluded that I'm out of my mind.

Is it our imagination, or did the trees behind Malcolm just
sway slightly?

MALCOLM (cont'd)
That's all right, for now. But just
humor me and be careful.

No, it's not our imagination, there they go again. Whole
trees shivering and swaying from left to right and back
again.

MALCOLM (cont'd)
Even if you think I'm harmless and
deluded, I promise --

Now the trees CREAKS and GROAN as they sway. Everyone has seen
it, and now Malcolm turns around too.

MALCOLM (cont'd)
-- this place is for real.

CUT TO:

INT. DOUBLE TRAILERS - DAY

It's quiet inside the trailers that serve as their command
post/living quarters. The books are lined up neatly on the
shelves. The computers sit, booted up and awaiting data
input.

All the way in the back, past the spare tires and life
preservers and canned food and bottled water, up in one
storage bin all the way on top, there's a RUSTLING SOUND.

A plastic student ID card pops out in the cracks under the
bin's door. A photograph in the lower right hand corner of
the card is visible -- it's Kelly, Malcolm's twelve-year-old
daughter.

The card wriggles against the lock and, with a soft CLICK, the
door pops open. KELLY herself tumbles out, wrapped in several
blankets and carrying a mason jar half full of a yellowish
liquid. We can guess.

She leaps to her feet, blinks the light out of her eyes, and
bolts to the back of the trailer as fast as she possibly can.
She races through a narrow door and SLAMS it shut.

A sign on the door says 'RESTROOM.' Inside, a SIGH of relief
is heard.

CUT TO:

EXT. JUNGLE TRAIL - DAY

Along a stream bed, the jungle trees still shiver. NICK loads
a three quarter inch tape into his heavy video camera and
chews anxiously on a piece of gum. SARAH and DR. JUTTSON are
beside him as the group nervously follows the GROANING forest
trees to their right.

At the rear, EDDIE and MALCOLM walk side by side. Eddie is
carrying a heavy silver rifle, an aluminum canister hanging
beneath the barrel. He shows it to Malcolm, his voice low and
urgent.

EDDIE
Lindstradt air rifle. Fires a
subsonic Fluger impact-delivery dart.

He cracks open the cartridge bank, revealing a row of plastic
containers filled with straw-colored liquid. Each is tipped
with a three inch needle and carries a bright yellow warning
tag -- 'EXTREME DANGER! LETHAL TOXICITY!'

EDDIE (cont'd)
I loaded the enhanced venom of Conus
purpurascens, the South Sea cone
shell. Most powerful neurotoxin in
the world. Acts within a
two-thousandth of a second. Faster
than the nerve-conduction velocity.
The animal's down before it feels the
prick of the dart.

From their right, the shaking trees seen closer now. By
walking down the stream bed, the humans are tracking right
along with the animals as they move in the foliage.

MALCOLM
(to Eddie)
Is there an antidote?

EDDIE
Like if you shoot yourself in the
foot? Wouldn't matter. You'd be
dead before you realized you'd
accidentally pulled the trigger.

Ahead of them, thick foliage blocks the path of the dried up
stream bed to the height of about fifteen feet. But around
them, the CRASHING sounds get louder and closer, the swaying
trees shiver right beside them. Eddie raises the rifle in
defense as the trees right at the edge of the stream bed sway
and part. Above the foliage, they see the sudden
movement --

-- of a row of STEGOSAUR fins. The spade-shaped fins run
along a ridge down the middle of the animal's back, about
three feet tall each. The group freezes, amazed, and as the
stegosaur continues on, they get a good look at it through a
break in the foliage.

It's a large dinosaur with a small head, a thick neck, and a
huge lumbering body.

A double row of plates runs along the crest of its back, and
it has a dragging trail with long spikes in it.

The gum drops out of Nick's mouth, FLOPS onto his shirt, and
sticks there.

NICK
Oh --

JUTTSON
-- my --

EDDIE
-- God!

SARAH
It's beautiful!

A second stegosaur, a baby about a quarter the size of the
first animal, breaks through the foliage, following the adult.

While the group is reaching to that, the earth vibrates and
a third stego, by far the biggest of the three, walks out of
the foliage right behind them, crossing within ten feet.

Apparently unconcerned about these little creatures in their
environment, the stegos continue on across the stream bed.

Sarah raises a still camera and shoots pictures. Her shutter
is muted, so that a muffled CLICK is all that's audible.

Juttson raises a pocket recorder to his lips and whispers into
it breathlessly.

JUTTSON
Stegosaurus, family Stegosauridae,
infraorder Stegosauria, suborder
Thyreophora. Length, adult male,
estimate twenty-five to thirty feet.

His breathy words turn into almost helpless laughter, of all
things, as he can't contain his astonishment. Eddie covers
his mouth, trying to keep him quiet.

SARAH
(to Juttsn)
That was a pair bond! A family
group, even, long after that infant
was nestbound!

JUTTSON
I want to see the nesting ground!

Nick turns to Malcolm, eyes like saucers, and makes a futile,
wordless, boy-was-I-wrong-on-this-one gesture. Malcolm
smiles, leans over, and TAPS softly on Nick's video camera.
Nick raises it to his shoulder and flicks it on as the group
continues on into the bush after the animals.

IN THE BUSH,

the baby wanders away from the group and ambles over near
where Sarah crouches in the bushes. Sarah raises her camera
again and silently SNAPS a picture. She WHISPERS to Juttson,
who is beside her.

SARAH
Lone nest -- not colonial. I don't
see an egg clutch...

She gestures and Juttson peers through a pair of field
glasses.

JUTTSON
(whispering back)
The empty shells are crushed and
trampled. The young stay in the
birth environment, that's conclusive!

SARAH
Not without a shot of the nest.

She sees an opportunity. As the baby heads back to its
parents, Sarah scoots right along with it, moving behind it,
using its body as a shield to block her from the view of the
other two.

Nick and Eddie's faces whiten in alarm. Nick reaches out to
stop her, but he barely gets hold of the sole of her boot
before she pulls away from him and duckwalks out into the
clearing.

IN THE CLEARING,

Sarah slinks along behind the baby stego as it walks back,
toward the nest, chewing the branches it carries in its south.
She raises up sightly, squeezing off pictures of the herd,
ever better as she gets closer.

BACK AT THE HILL,

the others can only watch her, aghast.

NICK
She's gutty.

MALCOLM
She's nuts.

IN THE CLEARING,

Sarah keeps moving closer. The baby passes a small grouping
of rocks and Sarah ducks behind them. She's now in a perfect
position to photograph the nest, and she squeezes off picture
after picture from this ideal vantage point.

She shoots the last picture on the roll --

-- and the camera's autowinder WHIRS to life. Sarah looks
down in horror as the camera's motor WHINES loudly in her
hands.

Th noise startles the animals. The male turns toward her
the plates on its back bristling. Sarah gets to her feet and
starts to move away, slowly.

The male turns away from her and swings its tail, spikes
extended. It WHIZZES through the air, right at her, but Sarah
leaps back at the last second --

-- and the tail's spikes THUD into the dirt where she was.

Sarah CRUNCHES to the ground and the three stegosaurs dart
away, disappearing into the bush, moving surprisingly quickly
for animals their size.

The others run to Sarah, help her to her feet, and pull her
back, against a massive tree trunk. But the tree trunk lifts
right up off the ground.

It's no tree, it's a DINOSAUR'S LEG, a massive one, six feet
across, God knows how many feet high. The Group gasps and
looks up as a MAKENCHIASAURUS, an enormous saurupod over a
hundred feet from nose to tail, lumbers away from them.

The Group stares in wonder as the mamenchiasaur stops and
HONKS furtively, its long neck stretched out above them.

Now a second mamenchiasaur neck cranes out of the
surrounding forest trees and wraps around the first. The
first mamenchiasaur THUNDERS around in a semi-circle, getting
into position behind the second.

Nick swings his video camera straight up and the group
suddenly finds itself in the middle of a mamenchiasaur mating.

The mighty tails swing and SNAP around them as the two animals
come together, and trees start snapping and falling, CRASHING
to the jungle floor.

The group panics and bolts for cover toward the only place
where the trees are not falling -- which is directly underneath
the animals!

Amid HONKS and BLEATS, the swinging tails continue to deforest
the jungle around them.

The noise and chaos is deafening, drowning out the LAUGHTER
and SCREAMS of the fascinated and terrified group.

There is a momentary lull and the group dashes out from
underneath the animals, disappearing into the thick forest.

A SHORT DISTANCE AWAY,

the Group collapses to the ground, breathless, chests heaving
with wild, frightened laughter. Sarah goes to Malcolm and
throws her arms around him, exhilarated.

SARAH
Ian, you're not insane! I'm so
glad!

JUTTSON
(out of breath)
Dr. Malcolm -- the world -- owes you
an apology.

CUT TO:

EXT. JUNGLE TRAIL - DAY

Suddenly, the Gathereres are taking their expedition a lot more
seriously. They march quickly back to base camp, their energy
and excitement palpable. NICK strikes a match and raises it
to a cigarette with a shaking hand, but SARAH leans in and
blows it out.

SARAH
No more smoking. We leave no scent
of any kind. No hair tonics, no
cologne, seal all our food in plastic
bags. We will observe and document,
but we will not interact.

MALCOLM
That's a scientific impossibility,
you know. Heisenberg uncertainty
principle. Whatever you study, you
also change.

Nick ejects the used videotape from his camera and pulls out a
sharpie, to label it.

NICK
What should I call this? 'Jurassic
Pork?'

Eddie, next to him, laughs.

SARAH
(still to Malcolm)
And let's forget about the high hide.
We can't do this kind of work up in a
tower, we need to be out in the
field, as close to the animals as
possible.

JUTTSON
I'm not surprised stegosaur lived in
a family group, but there's never
been anything in the fossil record to
prove the carnivores did.

SARAH
Why wouldn't they? Look at hyenas,
jackals, nearly all species of
predator birds --

JUTTSON
That doesn't say a thing about T-rex,
they could have been rogues. Robert
Burke certainly thinks they were.

SARAH
We've got to see one to find out.
Is there any --

MALCOLM
No way.

NICK
Oh, my God.

SARAH
-- way we could safely --

NICK
Oh, no!

He takes off, running as fast as he can, down the trail,
toward base camp. They look ahead, in the direction Nick is
running. A plume of black smoke is rising up over the trees.

EDDIE
Fire!

CUT TO:

EXT. BASE CAMP - DAY

NICK bursts out of the trees and races toward the thick plume
of smoke. In the middle of the base camp, someone has neatly
built a campfire surrounded by stones. Flames burn in the
middle.

Nick races over to it and stomps it out as the OTHERS emerge
from the trees behind him.

MALCOLM
A campfire?!

Nick grabs a jug of water, but Sarah steps in.

SARAH
No! Water mixes the smoke billow,
use dirt!

They start to kick and rake dirt onto the fire with their
hands and feet. Eddie and Dr. Juttson jump in and help out.

MALCOLM
Who the hell started a campfire?!

VOICE (o.s.)
It was just to make lunch.

Malcolm turns toward the source of the voice. KELLY stands in
the doorway of the trailer, sheepish.

KELLY (cont'd)
I wanted it ready when you got back.

The whole group stares, stunned, none more so than Malcolm
himself.

MALCOLM
Oh ... man.

CUT TO:

EXT. BASE CAMP - LATER

Later, and base camp is a blur of activity. SARAH, JUTTSON,
NICK, and EDDIE are hard at work, burying the remains of the
fire, sealing their food in plastic bags, loading camera
equipment, packing up specimen containers and other
information-gathering equipment.

MALCOLM, meanwhile, is lecturing Kelly.

MALCOLM
You know you were putting yourself in
a potentially dangerous situation,
but you didn't bother to find out
how dangerous before you leapt in.
You don't have the faintest idea
what's going on on this island!

SARAH
(loading a backpack)
What do you want to do, Ian, lock her
up for curiosity? Where do you think
she gets it?

JUTTSON
(to Nick)
Do you have chromium tapes? The
others fog in high-

NICK
-humidity, I know.
(waving a tape)
Highest lead density on the market.

EDDIE
(to Malcolm)
We've got a lot of heavy marching
ahead of us. I'm not carrying
anybody.

KELLY
I can keep up.

MALCOLM
You're going home. I'm sending a
radio call for the boats. We'll all
go down to the lagoon and wait for
them.

SARAH
Lighten up, Ian, you sound like a
high school vice-principal.

MALCOLM
I'm her father.

KELLY
Sure, now.

Nick leans over and whispers to Eddie, gesturing to Malcolm
and Kelly.

NICK
Do you see any family resemblance
here?

MALCOLM
You can't stay, Kelly, that's it.
It's too dangerous.

SARAH
If it's so dangerous, why'd you bring
any of us?

KELLY
You're wrong, Dad. I do know
what's going on on this island.

MALCOLM
How could you possibly?

KELLY
Because you said so. Maybe nobody
else believed you, but I always
did.

He looks at her, touched. Nick mutters to Eddie again.

NICK
The kid scores with cheap sentiment.

SARAH
Ian, if we recall the boat now, we've
made two invasive landings in one
day. That'll have to go in any paper
I write, and it will leave room for
people to say our findings were
contaminated. You know the academic
world as well as I do, once they
smell blood in the water, you're
dead. Our presence has got to be one
hundred percent antiseptic. That
means if we bend a blade of grass, we
bend it right back the way it-

A low sound has been rising while she speaks, and now it comes
BOOMING over the jungle around them, a THUNDEROUS racket that
shakes the very ground beneath them. Suddenly, three C-130
military cargo planes THUNDER overhead and ROAR toward the
island interior, flying very low. The planes are enormous,
fat-assed creatures, their rear cargo doors hanging open.

AT A RIDGE,

the members of the gatherer expedition hit the dirt and peer
over a ledge, watching as the airplanes bank and circle over a
specific spot.

Eddie raises a pair of field glasses.

DOWN BELOW,

huge metal equipment containers are shoved out the back of the
cargo bays. They SNAP off trees like matchsticks, CRUSH flat
anything foolish enough to exist where they want to land.

Now MEN pour out the rear of the planes, their low-altitude
parachutes billowing open behind them.

UP ON THE RIDGE,

Nick looks at Sarah.

NICK
You were saying something about
antiseptic?

CUT TO:

EXT. HUNTERS' CAMP - DAY

Metal container doors CLANG to the ground, jeep engines ROAR
to life in a cloud of thick black diesel smoke, blue laser
barriers SIZZLE and BURN through foliage as this group of
HUNTERS establishes a perimeter around their new camp.

PETER LUDLOW, dressed in brand new Banana Republic safari
wear, steps into the center of the camp and surveys the
surroundings. He turns to DR. ROBERT BURKE, a ragged,
pony-tailed man in wire-rimmed glasses.

LUDLOW
Welcome to your dream come true, Dr.
Burke.

Burke has a detailed set of satellite recon photographs that
he spreads out on the hood of a jeep.

BURKE
I believe the large herbivores forage
in open plains, like bison, which
would explain the great variety of
heat dots we're reading in the
flatlands around this waterhole.
Right -- here.

LUDLOW
Then that's where we're going.

Burke flips open a manifest that he will carry with him at all
times. Inside, there are dozens of sketches of various kinds
underneath. As each vehicle ROARS out of the equipment
container, Burke slips a waterproof eight by ten card with an
icon of the various dinosaurs on the island into a slot in the
dashboard.

BURKE
(calling them off)
Hadrosaurus! Carinthosaurus!
Maiasaurus!

As the procession goes on, Ludlow turns to DIETER STARK, the
man we saw welding earlier.

LUDLOW
This is as good a place as any for
base camp. First priority is the
laser barriers, I want them all up
and running in thirty minutes. Half
an hour, understand?

Dieter nods and turns to some of the HUNTERS, who number about
twenty in all, that are working nearby. But someone steps in
front of Dieter, cutting him off. It's ROLAND TEMBO, the
hunter from the bar in Mombassa.

ROLAND
Cancel that, Dieter.

LUDLOW
What? Why?

Roland points to a stream running nearby.

ROLAND
Carnivores hunt near stream beds. Do
you want to set up base camp or an
all-you-can-eat people bar?

LUDLOW
(thinks)
You heard his, Dieter. Find a new
spot. And remember, we're after
herbivores only -- no unnecessary
risks.

Dieter SIGHS and goes to work. Roland

联系时说从“演艺圈门户网”知道的，有惊喜哦！！

LostWorld:JurassicPark,侏罗纪公园：失落的世界

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