"THE THING" Screenplay by Bill Lancaster Based on the story "WHO GOES THERE" by John W. Campbell. Jr. SECOND DRAFT March 4, 1981 CAST MACREADY 35. Helicopter pilot. Likes chess. Hates the cold. The pay is good. GARRY 46. The station manager. Stiff. Ex-army officer. Wears a handgun. CHILDS 33. Six-four. Two-fifty. Black. A mechanic. Can be jolly. But don't mess. BLAIR 50. Sensitive. Intelligent. Unassuming. An assistant biologist. DR. COPPER 45. Professional. A decent man. A good doctor. PALMER 27. Second string chopper pilot. Crack mechanic. Long hair. Slight sixties acid damage. NAULS 22. The cook. Bright. Black. Irreverent. But kindhearted. Roller skates. NORRIS 44. Stocky. Rugged looking. A geophysicist. An incipient heart condition. BENNINGS 38. A meteorologist. Dutiful. An old pro. CLARK 24. The dog handler. Likes it here. Good at his job. SANCHEZ 21. The radio operator. Hates it here. Lousy at his job. In the winter of 1982 these men were commissioned by the United States National Science Foundation to gather data concerning the physical and natural sciences on the continent of Antarctica. THE MAIN COMPOUND OF U.S. OUTPOST #31 The interior is a cramped and never ending maze of hallways, passageways and doors which connect the many rooms and compartments within the compound. Sturdy, but prefabricated materials have been used in its construction. There is a laboratory. An infirmary. A kitchen and mess hall. A communications room and sleeping quarters. Other cubicles are for storage and supplies. The most spacious area of the building, and the main center of activity, is the Rec Room. Of the many entrance ways to this room can be seen the small work chambers with their sophisticated computers and other scientific equipment. The below quarter houses the generator and still other compartments for storage. A long underground tunnel connects the main compound to the dog kennel. FADE IN: A STARRY BLACKNESS From out of the billions, the smallest of specks drives slowly forward. It closes; getting larger; its features becoming more identifiable: a vessel. Flip-flopping; out of control. Its stern roaring with flame. It passes; its blue fire surging into the screen. "THE THING" A thundering... FADE TO: BLIND AND FERAL WHITENESS ...Glacial desert... gusts of snow... superimpose: ANTARCTICA 1982 WINTER A SOUND Loud and strident. A helicopter streaks across frame. It travels precariously close to the ground; its chassis battered and swayed by the wind. INT. COPTER Red dials beam on the faces of two men. One carries a rifle and searches the horizon with binoculars. The other pilots. Their unkempt faces, their blazing eyes notate a wildness. They bark at each other in some Scandinavian tongue. Two men arguing like mad and desperate children. The man with the binoculars sights something. EXT. HORIZON - BINOCULARS' POV - A DOG It turns and snarls at the craft some fifteen hundred yards to its rear. Then whirls and gallops off. A gun blast kicks up snow at its heels. INT. COPTER Another blast of rifle fire as the man takes issue with his prey. The pilot slams a fist into his gunman friend and implores for better aim. The craft swoops lower and the engine is put into full throttle. EXT. HILL - THE DOG running feverishly up and over a hill of ice. A weather- beaten, wooden sign sticks up on the other side: U.S. NATIONAL SCIENCE FOUNDATION -- OUTPOST #31 A rifle blast kicks up more snow. EXT. COMPOUND OF U.S. OUTPOST #31 A large, almost snow-covered building. Not far from that a tall, meteorological balloon tower. A scattering of several small shacks at varying distances from the main compound. The smaller hovels are connected by wooden planked walkways and steadying ropes. Multicolored pennants stick put of the snow marking pathways and directions to outdoor experiments. A tractor and two helicopters sit idle, covered with mounds of continuously mounting snow. TWO MEN, NORRIS AND BENNINGS standing some thirty yards from the main building are in the process of letting up a large red balloon. Childs, a hefty black man, is twenty yards away tinkering with a snowmobile. Their beards are caked with ice. It is winter and it is harsh. The faint sound of the copter turns their attention. THE COPTER flying ever lower now. The man with the gun leans dangerously outside and fires away at the dog as it nears the outpost. THE MEN outside the compound look to one another, incredulous. THE COPTER much too low now, and chastised by the wind, attempts a high- speed landing, directly on the heels of the sprinting dog. It bounces violently on the hard-packed surface. Once. Twice. Passing the dog. A third bounce sends it skidding. It flips; its blades snapping off like toothpicks. It lands belly-up, soundless except for the whine of its engine. The man with the gun rolls out before the explosion. INT. MAIN COMPOUND The half a dozen men, playing cards, monitoring equipment, listening to music -- spring to their feet, startled. EXT. COMPOUND The dog reaches Norris and Bennings, as they awkwardly wade through the snow, toward the downed copter. THE SURVIVOR of the crash, his eyes crazed with determination, struggles to his feet. Heedless of his companion, he double-times his way to the men and the dog. He reloads his gun and bellows in his Scandinavian tongue. Norris and Bennings have no idea what he is saying. The survivor waves his arms as if shooting them off, screaming as he does so; his face now caked with blood. The two men are bewildered. The dog jumps up, licking and pawing them, imploring for safety. Blam!! The visitor fires. The men jump back in disbelief. NORRIS What the fu... Blam! Blam! The crazed visitor screams and fires as he stalks after them. His countenance ablaze, mad. Ice and snow kick up about the terrified Americans. A bullet smacks into the dog's hip, sending it skidding and howling in pain. Childs, the black man by the snowmobile, takes cover, diving behind his machine. Bennings is hit. Norris pulls, drags him back toward the compound. The dog crawls along beside them. The intruder is relentless in his assail. He runs, screaming, firing, screaming, reloading and firing. INT. COMPOUND Total confusion. Some watch helplessly through the small, fogged-up and translucent windows. Others try to mobilize grabbing for their heavy jackets. CLOSE ON A .357 MAGNUM as it efficiently breaks through a windowpane and into the cold. A steady hand grips it firmly. THE SCANDINAVIAN getting closer. Kablam! Suddenly, his head jerks back. He falls to his knees and then face down into the snow. NORRIS AND BENNINGS stare blankly, but relievedly at the fallen man. The dog whimpers in pain. CHILDS pokes his head out from under the snowmobile. INT. MAIN COMPOUND - REC ROOM The rumbling of voices fades. The men adjust their eyes to station manager Garry, as he extracts his gun from the broken window, relieves it of its spent shell and puts it away. CUT TO: EXT. BURNING COPTER Several men spray snow on the burning wreckage. There is no hope for the pilot. CUT TO: INT. COMPOUND CLOSE ON THE PALLID FACE OF THE SCANDINAVIAN INTRUDER A neat round hole is set in the middle of his forehead. Station manager Garry holds up something akin to an ID. GARRY Norwegian... Jans Bolen. Fuchs, a young and sensitive-looking biologist, stands closest to the large area map of Antarctica. Several men sit and stand around viewing the body that lies on two brought- together card-tables. FUCHS Gotta be from the Norwegian camp. GARRY How far's that? FUCHS 'Bout eighty kilos southwest. GARRY (surprised) That far? Garry directs his attention to Childs, the large black man who had been working on the snowmobile. Next to him sits Norris, the rugged-looking, fortyish, geophysicist, who was one of the men being shot at. GARRY You catch anything he was saying? CHILDS Am I starting to look Norwegian to you, Bwana? Garry motions inquiringly to Norris. NORRIS Yeah. I caught that he wanted the better part of my ass to come apart. INT. INFIRMARY Dr. Cooper, mid-forties, works on the outstretched leg of Bennings, the meteorologist. Clark, the dog handler, is mending the hip of the wounded dog off in the corner. Bennings lets out with an ouch. DR. COPPER Don't "ouch" me. Two stitches. It just grazed you. He helps a shaken Bennings up off the table. BENNINGS What in the hell were they doing...? Flying that low... shooting at a dog... at us... DR. COPPER Stir crazy. Cabin fever... Who knows. The dog yelps and whimpers as Clark tries to calm him. CLARK I'll be here a while. Shell's pretty deep. INT. RADIO ROOM Blair, senior biologist, fifty, balding, leans against the entrance door. He looks on as the young, bored-looking radio operator, Sanchez, attends to his equipment. Bursts of static. SANCHEZ It's no go. BLAIR Well, get to somebody. Anybody. We've got to report this mess. SANCHEZ Look, I haven't been able to reach shit in two weeks. Doubt if anybody's talked to anybody on the whole continent. INT. HALLWAY Nauls, the cook, glides along on his roller stakes down one of the many narrow hallways that connect the various compartments of the main compound. He is black, a little mischievous, about twenty-two. He comes to a flashy skidding stop at one of the entrances to the rec room area, where the men are gathered with the dead Norwegian. NAULS Maybe we at war with Norway. Palmer, a spacy, twenty-seven year old, novice pilot and mechanic, grins as he lights a joint. He directs a remark to station manager Garry. PALMER Was wondering when "El Capitan" was going to get a chance to use his pop gun. Garry rebukes him with a stern look and then turns to Fuchs. GARRY How long have they been stationed there? Fuchs leafing through a pile of papers. FUCHS Says here about eight weeks. Dr. Copper enters the room. Bennings limping after him slightly. GARRY (shaking his head) That's not enough time for guys to go bonkers. NAULS Bullshit, Bwana, sweetheart. Five minutes is enough to put a man over down here. PALMER Damn straight. NAULS I mean Palmer been the way he is since the first day. Palmer smiles and flips the cook the bird. GARRY How many in their party? FUCHS (referring) Started with six. There'd be four others left. DR. COPPER How do you know? The men's attention turn to Copper. DR. COPPER ...Guys as crazy as that could have done a lot of damage to their own before they got to us. GARRY Nothing we can do about that. DR. COPPER Yes, there is. I'd like to go up. GARRY In this weather? DR. COPPER (turns to) Bennings? BENNINGS Winds are going to let up a tad, next couple of hours. GARRY A tad? BENNINGS Can't condone it myself. But it is a short haul. Hour there, hour back. Garry still does not much like the idea. Palmer takes another hit off his joint. PALMER Shit, Doc, I'll give you the lift if... GARRY Forget it, Palmer. Doc, you're a pain in the ass. GARRY (turns) Norris, go get MacReady. Slight laughter from some of the men. NORRIS (grins) MacReady ain't going nowhere. Bunkered in till spring. GARRY Just go get him. NORRIS (stands) Anyway, he's probably ripped. EXT. U.S. OUTPOST #31 Norris, bundled in his sixty-five pounds of clothing, exits the main compound. He walks the prefab wooden planks up the precipice; his destination is someone a hundred yards up the slope -- to a shack. He grabs onto the steadying ropes and pulls himself against the wind and blowing sleet. INT. MACREADY'S SHACK - CLOSE ON ICE CUBES being dumped into a glass, followed by the pouring of whiskey. An electronic Voice is heard. VOICE Bishop to knight four. MacReady takes a sip of his drink; makes his way over to his electronic chess game. A large Mexican sombrero hangs on his back. He is tall; about thirty-five. His shack is sparse but unkempt. A few centerfolds on the wall are interspersed by an occasional poster of some Mediterranean or South American paradise. The chess game is of larger than normal size. The pieces move automatically with the press of a button. He sits down and chuckles over his opponent's bad move. MACREADY Poor little son of a bitch. You're starting to lose it, aren't you? He confidently taps out his move. His companion's response is immediate. VOICE Pawn takes queen at knight four. MacReady's grin slowly fades as he examines the board. There is a pounding at his door. MacReady broods for a bit, heedless of his visitor and makes his next move. VOICE Rook to knight six. Check. More impatient pounding. MacReady glares at his opponent for a beat. He bends forward, opens up a flap containing the chess game's circuitry and pours in his drink. There ensues a snapping, popping sound as smoke and sparks rise from the machine; followed by a flush of chess gibberish. MacReady gets up from his seat, mumbling on his way to the door. MACREADY ...Cheating bastard... He opens the door. Norris steps in followed by a flurry of snow and wind. NORRIS You jerking off or just pissed? MACREADY We got any more of those electronic chess things down in supply? NORRIS Get your gear on. MACREADY What for? EXT. OUTPOST One of the grounded choppers is being readied for take-off. Childs holds a huge industrial torch to the engine, warming it up. INT. MAIN COMPOUND - CORRIDOR Garry, Bennings, Dr. Copper, Palmer and MacReady wind their way through the slender corridors on their way to the chopper. Dr. Copper carries a satchel of medicine supplies. MacReady, going over his flight chart, looks mad as hell. Dialogue overlaps. MACREADY ...Craziness... This is goddamn insane... GARRY ...Quit the griping MacReady. Sooner you're there -- sooner you're back. MACREADY It's against regulations to go up this time of year! DR. COPPER Screw regulations! Four guys could be crawling around on their bellies out there! MACREADY So, I don't want to end up crawling around with them when we go down. GARRY Look, if you're going to keep bitching, MacReady -- Palmer's offered to take him up... MACREADY What are you talking?! He's had two months training in those choppers! PALMER (defiant) Four! MACREADY (to Bennings) What is it out there, anyway? Forty- five knots? BENNINGS Sixteen. MACREADY (disgusted) And the horse you rode in on. Sixteen for how long?! You can't predict this time of year... INT./ EXT. CHOPPER Dr. Copper sits next to MacReady, who is at the controls. MacReady tightens the string of his sombrero around his neck and starts up its choking engine. MacReady fights violently with the controls as he struggles to get the craft into the air. It finally rights itself and moves up and off into the grey-white sky. INT. MAIN COMPOUND A couple of the men mingle in the area. Clark, the dog handler, looks out the window. CLARK Mac's really taking it up, huh? The dog, a large bandage on his hip, wades through the room. Under tables. Past men's legs. It hobbles slightly. No one takes notice. CUT TO: EXT. THE CHOPPER moves over a ridge of ice. Columns of smoke can be seen rising ominously from a quarter mile off. INT. CHOPPER - POINT OF VIEW As they near, the smoke looms thicker. A black, tar-like gush; billowing up into the grey sky from the whiteness below. EXT. NORWEGIAN CAMP Smoke climbs upward in the f.g. MacReady sets his craft down. Pull back to reveal the camp itself: resembling the aftermath of a western fort, sacked and ravaged by Indians. Small fires and debris are strewn everywhere. The prefab Administration Building exposes gaping holes. Smoke rises from the almost entirely snow-buried Quonset huts. Embers swirl in every direction. INT. CHOPPER The two men look at each other in silence. They get out. CLOSE ON A LARGE, MAKESHIFT FUNERAL PYRE smoldering to a close. A hastily conceived crematorium. Wood, books, furniture, tires, anything that will burn has been mixed together with the charred remains of several dogs and the body of a man. Curious mounds of a melted and blackened goo are heaped within the mess. A small can of gasoline lies nearby. A large oil drum not far off. MACREADY AND COPPER their faces ashen as they take in this grotesque sight. MacReady turns to view the Norwegian compound. He then exchanges a look with Copper. MacReady heads back toward the chopper. THE CHOPPER MacReady unhinges the shotgun that is latched to the panel behind the seats. EXT. THE MAIN BUILDING - THE DOOR MacReady and Dr. Copper stand hesitantly amidst the wisps of snow and embers. MacReady tries the door. It is unlocked. He slowly pushes it open with his gun. A creaking. A long pitch- black corridor. Copper shines a flashlight. DR. COPPER Anybody there?! No answer. Just wind. They exchange a look and enter. INT. NARROW CORRIDOR The two men move slowly. It is dank and cold. Their breath, bleating like exhaust. A soft, steady wind howls overhead. The flashlight is not much help. Further down, they hear a faint hissing sound. As they get closer it more resembles static. The flashlight finds a door at the end of the corridor. The sputtering static comes from within. The face of the door has been shredded. An ax sticks out from its middle. MacReady wrenches out the ax. There is blood on it. The men acknowledge this for a beat. MacReady tries the knob. It opens slightly. Something is blocking it from the other side. MACREADY Anybody in there?! Nothing. DR. COPPER We're Americans! Nothing. MACREADY Come to help you!! MacReady pushes against the door. MACREADY Give me a hand. They push, shove, grunt. The door gives a bit. Finally more. It widens enough for MacReady to see that a large computer- like machine is blocking their path. MacReady wedges in and shines the flashlight. It is the communications room. Holes in its roof have allowed in the freezing cold. The flashlight exposes the back of the radio chair. One more nudge allows them into the room. A beat as they catch their breath. MacReady spots a Coleman lantern. He lights it with a match. Holds it up. The brighter light exposes the top of a man's head sitting in the radio chair. MACREADY Hey, Sweden...! You okay? The chair rocks slightly with the gentle breeze. They inch closer. A yard from the chair, MacReady stops the Doctor. He pokes his gun at the chair's back. MACREADY Sweden?! Dr. Copper spots something. From the man's wrist on the armrest, he follows a long, yarn-thick, red line, ending in a pool of frozen blood on the floor. The two men step around the chair. The Norwegian stares up in blanched death. A gaping black hole for a mouth. His throat and wrists slit. An old-fashioned straight razor in his lap. MacReady turns off the hissing radio, and marches to the other door. It is locked and barricaded. DR. COPPER (more to himself) My God, what in hell happened here? MACREADY Come on, Copper. The two men free a machine-like obstacle from the other exit. MacReady opens a lock and pushes the door open. More blackness. Stronger wind. Copper holds the lantern high as they make their way down a row of wooden steps and into a cavernous, underground causeway. MACREADY Hey, Sweden!!! DR. COPPER (irritated) They're not Swedish, goddamn it, they're Norwegian, MacRe -- Whap!! Something slaps into the Doctor's face from the darkness. The lantern crashes to the ground. The Doctor stumbles, falls. MacReady grabs the flashlight and whirls in different directions. A panting beat. Silence. Dr. Copper holds up what hit him. A thick centerfold, buffeted by the wind. MacReady takes it. MACREADY Norwegian of the Month, Doc. Harmless. MacReady pockets it for further viewing. INT. THE NARROWEST OF CORRIDORS The supporting beams have long since buckled and cracked from the constantly moving ice underneath. The evidence of fire has further weakened the foundations. The wood creaks overhead. Bits of ice and silt trickle down. The two men walk hunched, cautious. MacReady gingerly tries to make his way around a broken and smoldering beam. He brushes it gently sending a shower of debris from the yawning roof. The two men wait until it subsides and then moves on. Further down. MacReady's knee bumps into something along the wall, causing him to stumble slightly. He shines his light on it. An arm is sticking out of a steel door about three feet off the ground. The door has been slammed shut. The arm pinned, its fist still gripping a small welding torch. The flame long since gone out. MACREADY (wincing) Holy shit... He tries the door. Unlocked. It opens. The arm drops to the ground. It has been severed by the force of the slam. Its owner is nowhere to be seen. MacReady, sickened, coughs. Dr. Copper mumbles. DR. COPPER Christ... They step over the arm and into another slim passageway. Moving along they come to rest in front of a door with Norwegian lettering on it. MacReady pushes it open with his foot. Dozens of papers fly about, flailed by the holes in the Quonset hut-style roof. The place is a wreck. They enter. MacReady surveying the small room with his flashlight. DR. COPPER ...Laboratory. Broken beakers, test tubes, a microscope are illuminated. MacReady notices a video camera. MACREADY Portable video unit. Copper makes his way over to the main work table. He shuffles through papers, glancing at the writing. MACREADY Anything? DR. COPPER All in Norwegian. Dr. Copper bends down and begins gathering the papers, strewn about the room. MACREADY What are you doing? DR. COPPER Could be important work. Might as well bring it back. MACREADY It's getting late. Hurry it. I'm going to check the last few rooms. He exits. Amongst the rubble, Dr. Copper finds a pocket tape recorder and several cassettes. He selects a tape and is about to pop it in when he senses something to his rear. He turns. Looks. A beat. Nothing. INT. HALLWAY MacReady shoves himself into another room. INT. ROOM Debris and wood flush down on him. The receding ceiling had been blocking the door from above. He brushes his coat and shines the light upwards. The ceiling is a shambles. He then shines the light deeper into the room. INT. NORWEGIAN LAB Dr. Copper is playing the small tape recorder. A casual Norwegian voice drones on as if making notes. He fast forwards. The same casual drone. MACREADY (O.S.) Copper, come here!! INT. ROOM Dr. Copper enters, squeezing in, through the door. The wood cracks overhead. More debris comes falling down. MACREADY Careful. It's about to go. Copper dusts himself. MacReady stands before a huge block of ice. Fifteen feet long. Six feet wide. Four feet tall. It has partially melted, but its thawing process has been stopped by the now freezing temperatures within the outpost. Its one curious feature: the middle has been thawed and scooped out. Giving it the appearance of a large bathtub. The two men study it uncomprehendingly. MacReady's gaze turns to a large metal cabinet at his left. He moves for a closer look. Several photographs are pasted to its door. Small snapshots of the Norwegians at work and play. He tries to open it. Stuck. The partially caved-in ceiling is slightly blocking the top of the door. He tries again, careful not to dislodge the wood and plaster above. Bits of dust float down. DR. COPPER Watch it. His grip is too strong. It gives suddenly, unexpectedly. The large metal door flies open. Large chunks splash from the ceiling. They come thumping to the floor, behind and in front of the open cabinet door. MacReady coughs and waves away the dust. He peers inside. Nothing much. Some empty shelves. Some small scientific gear. His flashlight then locates a large photograph taped to the inside of the cabinet door. It is a picture of five Norwegians, arm in arm, all smiles, toasting each other. They are on either side of the frozen block of ice, pridefully displaying it for the camera. The block looks much thicker. Its interior opaque. MacReady looks to the block of ice and then back to the photograph. He untapes it, pockets it and shuts the door. An armless corpse swings into his face from behind the closing door. Dislodged from the ceiling, the body and MacReady go crashing to the floor. CUT TO: INT. U.S. OUTPOST - RECREATION ROOM The loud beat of Warren Zevon's song, "The Werewolves of London," can be heard throughout the compound. The room is empty. Close on a video pong game, its ball of light lazily traveling back and forth. The dog, its tail wagging, its bandage on, walks by. INT. KITCHEN Zevon's record is blasting from Nauls' stereo. He skates from the big walk-in freezer and plunks down a large side of beef on the wood-cutting table to thaw. He skates from pot to pan keeping time with his sounds. He smells. Tastes. Adds a little something here, a touch there. He clearly enjoys his work. Station Manager Garry stops past the open door. GARRY Turn that crap down, Nauls. You can hear it all over the camp! NAULS Oui, Bwana. Can do. He skates over and turns it down, but not much. INT. COMMUNICATIONS ROOM Garry enters and sees that Sanchez has nodded off in front of his receiver. His headgear is still on. Garry walks over and turns up the volume, the static jolting Sanchez awake. SANCHEZ Hey, man...! GARRY You reach anybody yet? SANCHEZ We're a thousand miles from anybody else, man. It's going to get a hell of a lot worse before it gets better. GARRY Well, stick to it. INT. COMPOUND CORRIDOR An empty hallway. Larger than most. Doors to several sleeping quarters on either side. The dog slowly walks through. One of the doors is open up ahead of his left. The dog stops in front of it and looks in. Someone is inside. Inside the small cubicle, a slight portion of a man's back can be seen as he sits bent over a chair; his large shadow displayed on the wall. Back in the corridor. The dog looks up the hall once and casually to the other end. No one. He enters the room. The sound of a man's voice, too indistinct to tell whose, mumbles: MAN'S VOICE Hello boy. A beat. The sound of a glass breaking. A muffled scuffling. The door is slammed shut from the inside. And then silence. CUT TO: EXT. COMPOUND Fuchs, the young biologist, is finishing up his daily jog around the compound. He stops at the end of a long Quonset hut almost completely buried in the snow. The hut is fifty yards long and connects to the main compound. He enters a tunnel from a latch door up top. INT. TUNNEL He jogs down the steps, passing the underground dog kennel and trots toward the compound through the long narrow tunnel. He passes and waves to Clark, who rolls along a wheelbarrow of dog food. CLARK opens the door to the small kennel and serves up the dinner. The dogs, about seven of them, yelp and bark eagerly. INT. UNDERGROUND PASSAGEWAY near the fuel supply bladders. Older and more rickety than the quarters above. Childs waltzes through, humming, a big smile on his face. He stops at a door with six locks on it. Different kinds. Combination locks, key locks, etc. He opens each one separately. INT. STORAGE ROOM Inside are several marijuana plants. Sun lamps beam down on them. Childs inspects them with a wide grin. CHILDS How my brothers and sister doing today? Doin' fine. He moves over to a tape deck, selects a cassette, grins back at the plants and turns it on. CHILDS What say to some nice Al Green for my babies, huh? He waters them carefully, as Al Green sings softly. He hears a panting and turns around to see the dog. His bandage is gone. CHILDS What you...? You get the hell on out of here. The dog is shooed off. Childs turns back grumbling. CHILDS ...Comin' in here... goin' to urinate on my babies. INT. MAIN COMPOUND - HALLWAY Blair passing through, holding a chart and carrying a rack of test tubes, notices a large bandage on the floor. He picks it up, inquiringly. It is mangled and shredded. INT. GENERATOR ROOM Palmer works on the generator. He hears the sound of approaching propeller blades from outside. And then the sound of his tool box crashing to the floor. He turns to see what caused the ruckus. The dog, who has entered the shed, has jumped on the work table and upended the tool box on its eagerness to look out of the above window. Palmer curses under his breath and calls out. PALMER Clark! Will you kennel this goddamn dog? (bangs wrench against pipe) Hey, Clark?! THE DOG It paws at the window and watches as the chopper, carrying MacReady and Dr. Copper, fights against the newly arrived heavy winds and lands safely. INT. STATION MANAGER GARRY'S QUARTERS Garry, MacReady, Dr. Copper, Norris, Bennings, Blair and his assistant, Fuchs, are present. The small Norwegian video unit has been set up and its contents are being viewed on a TV screen. Grainy, home movie-ish, no sound. The proceedings are grim. Shots of the Norwegian's at work. Others of them playing soccer on ice. Generally the footage is a prosaic record of their day-to-day life. Norris shuffles the bundle of notes Dr. Copper brought back with him. NORRIS ...Seems they were spending a lot of time at a place four miles northeast of their camp. GARRY What were they involved in? MacReady, working on the video machine, answers. MACREADY Little ice core drilling... some seismology... glaciology... same old shit we do. The present footage is a shot of them all naked and probably drunk, holding a sign across their waists as they stand outdoors in super-freezing weather. BENNINGS How much more of this crap is there? DR. COPPER About nine more hours. BENNINGS We can't learn anything from this. DR. COPPER Probably right. MacReady turns on the light and shuts off the video machine. He then slides the portable tape deck across the table to Dr. Copper. They exchange a look. DR. COPPER MacReady and I were listening to some of these cassettes on the way back. (somberly) Like you gentlemen to hear it. A Norwegian voice drones on calmly, making verbal notes. Norris shrugs. BENNINGS What do you want from us? MACREADY (flat) Just listen. Dr. Copper fast forwards. The calm voice continues. And then a loud blast, followed by pounding. The sounds of confusion. Voices. Loud. Frenetic. Men's feet running up and down wooden floorboards. A gurgling. A hissing. Screams. And then a screeching. More blasts mixed with the din of wild, carnage-wrought cries. And then more screeching. A screeching unlike anything these men have ever heard. The men look from one another in silence as they listen. Dr. Copper turns it off. DR. COPPER Goes on like that quite awhile. (beat) What do you gentlemen make of it? GARRY Could be anything... Men in isolation... some beef that snowballed... got out of hand... NORRIS Maybe the whole camp got bent... Something they ate. What about food poisoning, Doc? Dr. Copper taps the tape deck pensively. DR. COPPER Maybe. He glances at MacReady, and then back to the others. DR. COPPER There's something else we want you to see. INT. INFIRMARY Dr. Copper and MacReady begin dumping the heavy contents of a large plastic trash bag onto the slab. DR. COPPER We found this. Displayed on the slab is what appears to be the corpse of a man. Badly charred. What is left of the trousers and shoes of the bottom torso are ripped and split, as if his legs and feet had burst from the inside. His upper body is an almost undecipherable gnarled mass of protoplasmic mush. The head is strangely disfigured and looks larger than normal. It is situated not on its shoulders but near the abdomen. Tendon-like appendages are wrapped around the carcass and sticking up and out in odd postures. One is wrapped around the body's left leg. The shirt has been ripped and lies shredded in the tar-like mess. The men grimace. DR. COPPER I know he's pretty badly burned... but could fire have done this? Blair, sickened but fascinated, pokes at the tendon-like things and the tarry goo. DR. COPPER Blair, I'd like you and Fuchs to help me with autopsies on this one and the one Garry shot this morning. INT. REC ROOM - LATER - CLOSE ON A TABLE HOCKEY GAME Foosball. Nauls and Clark are going at it hot and heavy. Sanchez sits off in a corner thumbing through an old issue of Photoplay. Bennings, Norris and Garry are engaged in a card game. Bennings is about to play a card when he feels something under the table. He looks. It is the dog. BENNINGS Clark, will you put this mutt with the others where he belong?! INT. LAB larger than most of the other rooms and well-equipped. Dr. Copper is performing an autopsy on the Norwegian intruder, killed early that morning. Blair sits over his microscope, while Fuchs prepares slides. The other body is draped with a sheet, waiting its turn. Dr. Copper pulls off his gloves. DR. COPPER Nothing wrong with this one. Physiologically, anyway. (to Blair) Find anything toxic? BLAIR No drugs... alcohol. Nothing. INT. TUNNEL Clark leads the dog through the long, cold tunnel toward the kennel. A new dressing has been placed on its hip. He unlatches the door to the kennel and leads him in. INT. KENNEL About twenty feet long, five feet wide. Poorly lit. Cramped with dogs. Some of them sleeping. Others pacing around and curious, greet their new companion, sniffing, panting and rubbing up against him. Clark pats the dog and several others, then leaves, latching the door behind him. INT. SLEEPING CUBICLE Childs lies in his cot watching a small television. The show is a tape of an American TV game show. He has seen this one too many times, extracts the cassette and injects another game show. Palmer is stretched out in the other cot, reading a comic book and smoking a joint. Childs beckons for it and takes a hit. INT. PUB A small area, just off the rec room. Set up like a bar. MacReady is alone looking over the rest of the videotapes from the Norwegian outpost. Mundane to esoteric chores of Antarctic camp life. He looks bored. INT. LAB Blair, hovering over the microscope, lays in a slide, focuses and motions for Dr. Copper to take a look. Copper is confused as he examines. He shrugs. DR. COPPER I don't understand. Fuchs takes the opportunity to look. Blair moves over to the disfigured corpse and indicates one of the fibrous, tendon- like appendages. BLAIR It's tissue from one of these sinewy rods. Fuchs is befuddled as he examines. FUCHS What in the world kind of cell structure is this? BLAIR That's the point. DR. COPPER (tired) I don't get you, Blair. BLAIR I'm not sure it is any kind of cell structure. Biologically speaking. DR. COPPER (sighing) This really isn't my field, Blair. Let's wrap for the day. Dr. Copper undoes his lab coat and lays it over a chair as he exits. Blair stares down ominously at the mutilated body. EXT. COMPOUND - NIGHT A steady stream of sleet pounds the compound and small surrounding shacks. INT. REC ROOM Vacant. The wall clock reads four-thirty. INT. HALLWAY Sleeping cubicles on either side. The sound of snoring. INT. PUB Bleary-eyed, MacReady is in the process of blowing up some strange inflatable object. As he puffs away, he still keeps an eye on the Norwegian video tapes. His balloon begins to take shape. It blossoms into a life-size replica of a full- breasted woman. Something on the tape catches his eye. He rewinds, then starts it forward again. The screen shows the Norwegians on the surface of what appears to be an enormous, flat glacier. They are spread out on the ice around a large odd oval shape; their arms outstretched. It fades to black and then a Norwegian comes on mugging childishly in front of the camera, apparently quite pleased with something. The tape fades to black again and the picture reappears. This time they have marked off the large oval area with flag sticks. Closer shots show three of the men digging a deep hole into the ice. There is a small patch of something dark and metallic at the bottom. MacReady leans forward, intrigued. The men are now sinking something deep into the ice at various points around the markings. MacReady squints and mumbles to himself. MACREADY Decanite...? Thermite charges...? The tape jump cuts again showing a long shot of the markings. No Norwegian in sight. An explosion kicks up the ice. A beat as the ice sprays to the ground. Then the camera appears to shake as the ground beneath it quivers. Another immense explosion follows. An earthquake-like force throws the camera to the ground. MACREADY What in... The tape continues, distorted, unviewable. A distinct crack in the lens. MacReady lets go of his companion and quickly rewinds. The deflating mannequin is sent sputtering around the room. INT. KENNEL - NIGHT Most of the dogs are sleeping or lounging. The new dog watches them calmly, silently. He takes several steps towards a group of about five dogs and sits upright. Completely still. He stares at them. A beat. The dogs are aware of something. They begin to seem a bit confused, uncomfortable. The new dog continues to stare. Sitting rigidly, unnaturally still. His eyes dead, lusterless black spheres. Bewildered, a few dogs start to pace. As if sensing something: a portent. A danger. But so odd. They begin a soft, purring growl. The new dog remains a statue. The growling builds. More dogs begin to pace. Nervously. Faster, encircling. Emitting hisses, snarls. The lack of response driving them into a frenzy. Barks. Growls. More frenetic pacing. The din escalating. Three dogs start to close in on the stranger. They attack. THE SHADOW OF THE NEW DOG against the kennel wall. The shadow suddenly lurches upward, seeming larger. The kennel roars. INT. PUB MacReady is still going over bits of the same footage, fascinated. He hears the far-off clamor of the dogs. INT. NAULS' QUARTERS He, too, bothered by the noise, tosses and turns in his sleep. INT. CLARK'S QUARTERS Clark snores. MacReady has entered. MACREADY Clark. No response. MacReady nudges him. Clark rolls away, annoyed. MacReady pinches his snoring nose, cutting off the air. Clark sits up, groggy. MACREADY Dogtown's going nuts. Take care of it. INT. TUNNEL Clark, sleepy, irritated, makes his way down the freezing corridor. The wind soughing loudly overhead. CLARK reaches the kennel door. The savage outpouring of noise from within baffles and angers him. He unlatches the door. CLARK What's got into... Smack! Just as he opens the door, two dogs, as if jettisoned from a cannon, knock him off his feet. Growls, barks, snarls. And a screeching from within. INT. KITCHEN MacReady is fetching himself a beer. The sound of the far- off screeching. He freezes. A beat. He turns and sprints. HIS BEER CAN as it smashes the glass of the fire alarm. He pulls the lever. INT. TUNNEL The alarm is blaring throughout the camp. MacReady, Garry, Norris run through the narrow tunnel led by Clark. MacReady carries a shotgun. Garry, half-dressed, has his .44. Clark, a fire ax. CLARK I don't know what the hell's in there, but it's weird and pissed off, whatever it is. INT. HALLWAY Chaos. Men, half-naked, bounce from their cubicle. Pulling on their pants, digging into shoes. INT. CHILDS' CUBICLE Childs is grappling with his belt buckle. CHILDS Mac wants the what?! BENNINGS (at the doorway) That's what he said. Now! Move! Bennings is off. INT. TUNNEL as the men approach the locked kennel door. The two dogs, thrown into Clark, back ferociously and scratch at the door trying to get back in. One is badly bloodied. The fight inside rages on. MacReady and Clark brace themselves by the narrow door. Norris and Garry hold back the two hysterical dogs. Clark undoes the latch and he and MacReady enter the kennel. The light has been broken and it is pitch black. MacReady snaps on his flashlight. Norris and Garry can't contain their animals and the dogs burst into the room. They smash into MacReady and send him sprawling. Total confusion: the dogs; the men; the screeching; the blackness. CLARK Mac, where are you? MacReady gropes for his flashlight and rights himself. He finds Clark. Then shines it around the cramped room trying to get his bearings. The light finds a mass of dogs in a wild melee in the corner. Barking mixed with hissing, a gurgling, a screeching. Dogs being hurled about and then charging back into the fray with a vengeance. The flashlight illuminates parts of some "thing." A dog. But not quite. Impossible to tell. It struggles powerfully. Garry pokes his head into the blackness. GARRY What's going on, damn it? MacReady aims his shotgun at the entire pack. MACREADY I'm going to shoot. CLARK No! Wait!! Clark wades into the pack, grabs at dogs' hides and throws them back. He then wields his ax into the fray, chopping and hacking away at the gurgling, hissing silhouette. From out of nowhere, a large, bristly, arachnid-like leg springs up and wraps around Clark's ax. It sends Clark smashing violently into the wall. OUTSIDE More men running, nearing the kennel. Several squeezing in with Garry, trying to get a look. INSIDE MacReady fires several rounds. A dog is flung at him, knocking him and his flashlight once more to the ground. Garry squeezes in and begins blasting away in the direction of the hissing and screeching. A dog is hit. MacReady crawls for his flashlight. MACREADY Clark? Where are you? Clark! Blam. Blam. Garry continues firing at the silhouette. INT. TUNNEL Childs, huffing and puffing, lugs the huge industrial torch toward the crowded kennel doorway. CHILDS What's happening? MACREADY (O.S.) Childs, you got the torch? You get your ass in here!! INT. KENNEL Childs scrunches in, disoriented by the blackness, and bumps into Garry, knocking him off balance. CHILDS Where are you? MacReady signals with his flashlight and then points it at the gathering of snarling dogs. MACREADY Torch it over there! CHILDS The dogs? MACREADY Screw the dogs!! Torch it!! Childs lets loose with a burst of blue flame. A mewing, a screeching. Part of the kennel starts to burn. GARRY (panic) We're on fire! MACREADY Don't let up, Childs! GARRY (to outside) Extinguishers. Childs moves closer, continuing his assault on the hissing, gurgling presence. Men charge into the room and begin spraying dogs and burning walls. Dogs and men choke and cough amidst the smoke and CO2. The screeching lessens. The hissing and gurgling fade. Childs turns off his torch. CUT TO: INT. REC ROOM - NEXT MORNING Those of the men that have gathered exhibit a pale and quiet uneasiness. Blair, in silent awe, stands over the badly burned corpses of two interlocking dogs, that lie before him on a table. They are connected as if they were one animal. Though, the one wearing the remnants of Clark's bandage is much larger and appears less dog-like. Its entire torso is cracked and peeled, as if its innards were trying to burst out. Odd appendages, recoiled and withered by the flame, are wrapped grotesquely about both bodies. Clark, his eyes set in glassy stare, sits in shock. Nauls comforts him. Childs stands nearby smoking a joint and staring at the floor. Blair, transfixed, continues hovering over the united cadavers. Weighing. Thinking. A very worried look on his face. The dead bodies of two other dogs from the kennel are not far off. INT. INFIRMARY Fuchs is attending to the shredded bodies of three other badly wounded dogs. INT. REC ROOM Nauls pats Clark on the shoulder and grins, trying to pick up his spirits. NAULS It's okay now, man. It's dead. It's over. (beat) You see. Clark turns to him with a childlike smile. CLARK I know. Mr. Childs killed it. I saw. NAULS Right, man. Right. INT. SMALL WORKROOM Norris is going through some maps. MacReady is bent over his shoulder. Norris finds the one he's looking for. NORRIS Here. This is where they were spending most of their time. Bennings pokes his head in the room. BENNINGS Pretty nasty out, Mac. Thirty-five knots. MACREADY Screw it, I'm going up anyway. INT. MAIN COMPOUND - MORNING Station Manager Garry has joined Blair by the stuck-together bodies. Blair motions to the bandage. BLAIR Was that dog, the Norwegian dog? GARRY I just can't comprehend any of this. It was just a dog. CHILDS (evenly) "tweren't no dog, Bwana. BLAIR That tape MacReady showed us this morning... GARRY Couldn't make much of it myself. BLAIR I've asked him to try and locate the site. Okay with you? GARRY Sure. You think there's a connection? BLAIR Maybe. EXT. CHOPPER high above the Antarctic expanse. INT. CHOPPER MacReady pilots. Young Palmer and Norris are with him. It is clear but the winds are troublesome. The ride is a shaky one. Norris refers to their map. He points. NORRIS One of their sites would be directly over here. They aim for a large mountainous wall. As they go up and over... they see: FLAT, GLACIAL EXPANSE On the surface, an enormous blackened oval shape. INT. U.S. OUTPOST #31 - LAB All the bodies of the dogs have been brought in. Fuchs stands by as Blair studies through his microscope. INSERT - A MICROSCOPIC SAMPLING of two cells. They appear to be much different from each other. They are joined at the ends but are completing the process of breaking off from each other. ON BLAIR A disturbed look on his face. He checks his watch, as if timing the procedure. EXT. GLACIER - TRACKING WITH MACREADY, NORRIS AND PALMER as they walk along the ice. They come to a stop at the edge of a sharp drop. Pull back to reveal -- the massive black hole about fifteen feet beneath the ice. Charred, gnarled and mangled metal are all that is left of what was once an enormous sphere. MacReady's and Norris' eyes meet each other in silence. Palmer is in awe. PALMER Wow... MacReady finds a burst thermite canister. He and Norris climb down. They move along amongst the wreck. Almost everything but the skeletal superstructure has disintegrated into a fine ashy powder. Norris digs for ice samples at the perimeter of the wreckage, while MacReady browses through the center. Palmer continues to marvel, as he walks around the oval, atop the ice. MacReady returns and kneels down next to Norris as the latter examines a piece of metal. NORRIS Magnesium of some type... or some kind of strange alloy. (looks out at debris in disgust) And those poor dumb bastards had to go and blow the hell out of it. MACREADY So what do you make of it? NORRIS You know damn well what we both make of it. MACREADY No chance it could have been some new kind of test craft? Norris shakes his head no. NORRIS Seismic activity has been pushing this are up from way down for a long time... (holds up ice sample) ...This ice it was buried in... It's over a hundred thousand years old. Palmer calls out, waving them over. EXT. GLACIER The two men join Palmer about fifty yards from the oval. A large rectangular chunk has been cut out of the ice. It is fifteen feet long, six feet wide and eight feet deep. MacReady kneels down to observe. A beat. A gust of wind picks up the snow at their feet. CUT TO: INT. REC ROOM - NIGHT Fascinated, a few of the men are reviewing the Norwegian video tapes of the finding of the mysterious craft. MacReady sits quietly by his chess set contemplating a large glass of Scotch. Clark, less interested than the others, is flipping through the Norwegian nudie magazine. Blair, looking worried, sits off in a corner, pondering the photo of the block of ice and fingering a piece of crumbled- up metal brought back from the site. Childs, viewing the tapes, can't quite believe it all. CHILDS Okay now, Mac, run this by me again. Thousands of years ago this rocket ship crashes, right...? And the... MacReady is not listening. CHILDS MacReady! MACREADY Look, I'm just guessing... CHILDS Well, go on. INT. KITCHEN Nauls, about to prepare dinner, scowls as he rummages through his many cabinets. NAULS Where's that big ol' steel pot of mine?! Damn! He turns to examine the cabinets above the large stove. He spots something in the nearby kitchen trash can. Disgusted, he pulls out a torn and shredded pair of long johns. INT. REC ROOM MacReady theorizes. MACREADY ...So it crashes, and this guy, whoever he is, gets thrown out, or walks out, and ends up freezing. CHILDS I just can't believe this voodoo bullshit. You believe this voodoo bullshit, Blair? Blair says nothing, lost in thought. Palmer, stoned, a joint dangling from his mouth, is searching for information through stacks of old issues of The National Enquirer and The Star. PALMER (rambling) Happens all the time, man. They're falling out of the skies like flies. Government knows all about it... Chariots of the Gods, man... They practically own South America. I mean they taught the Incas everything they knew... CHILDS Cool it, Palmer!! Palmer shakes a magazine at him adamantly. PALMER Read von Daniken! Have you read von Daniken? Get your facts straight! Clark marvels at a particular photo. CLARK Jesus, why would those guys ever want to leave Norway...? Nauls skates into the room. He shakes the crumpled-up pair of long johns in his fist. NAULS Which one you muthers been tossing his dirty underwear in the kitchen trash?! He flings it across the room. It lands on MacReady's chess set. NAULS I want my kitchen clean. Germ free! Nauls spins on his skates and storms off. MacReady fetches the strangely shredded underwear and rolls it up, while Childs paces. CHILDS So, MacReady, come on now. These Norwegian dudes come by... find him and dig him up... MacReady tosses the ball of cloth across the room into a trash bin. MACREADY Yeah, they dig him up and cart him back. He gets thawed out, wakes up and scares the shit out of them. And they get into one hell of a brawl... CHILDS Now how's this motherfucker wake up after thousands of years in the ice, huh? MACREADY (annoyed) I don't know how. Because he's different than we are. Because he's a space guy. What do you want from me, anyway. Go ask Blair. CHILDS You buy any of this, Blair? A beat as Blair stares straight ahead, transfixed. He speaks softly, to no one particular. BLAIR It was here... got to that dog... It was here in this camp... The men take in his grave countenance. GARRY So...? So what? It's over with. Blair turns to them. A pause. The men search his face. BENNINGS (edgy) Well, isn't it? INT. LAB - CLOSE ON A SHEET as Blair rips it off exposing the tangled mess of interlocking dogs. Pull back. All the men have gathered. Some of the men settle into chairs, others stand. BLAIR Whatever that Norwegian dog was... It... It was capable of changing its form... (indicates their dog) ...when it attacked our dog... it somehow was able to digest... or... absorb it... and in the process shaped its own cells to imitate our dog's cells exactly... (holds up gooey dog leg) ...This for instance isn't dog at all -- it's imitation... We got to it before it had time to finish or... NAULS Finish what? BLAIR ...I think the whole process would have taken an hour... maybe more. And then I suppose both would have changed back to dog form. PALMER Well, that Thing in the ice sure weren't no dog. BLAIR (impatient) Of course not... But whatever it was revived, it... Well, The Thing was probably disoriented... and realized it couldn't survive for long in our atmosphere... But being the incredibly adaptable creature it was... it tried to become something that could... Before the Norwegians killed it... it somehow got to this dog. CLARK What do you mean "got" to the dog? BLAIR It was a life form that was able to imitate and reproduce, whatever it ate or absorbed, cell for cell. Silence. BLAIR The concept is staggering. I know... I... I don't fully understand it myself. CHILDS (skeptically, points) You're saying... that big muther in the ice, became the dog. BLAIR (nodding) I think we're talking about an organism... that could imitate other life forms... perfectly... It could have gone on and on... It could have become one dog... It could have become as many dogs as it wanted to -- and without losing any of its original mass... NORRIS You been into Childs' weed, Blair? Blair slams his fist on the slab. BLAIR Look, I know it's hard to believe... GARRY (breaking in) So what's our problem? BLAIR Well... there's still some cell activity... it's not entirely dead yet. Several of the men nearest the carcasses jump back knocking over a chair. CUT TO: EXT. COMPOUND - NIGHT - CLOSE ON THE DOG CARCASSES lying on the snow. Splash. They are being soaked with gasoline. FUCHS (O.S.) (in violent protestation) You can't do this! You can't burn these remains... Pull back. Fuchs is beside himself. Childs has the large torch. MacReady empties another can on the bodies. Dr. Copper stands nearby. MACREADY And the horse you rode in on, Fuchs. (to Childs) Light it up. Childs lights the tip. Fuchs makes a determined move for the torch. FUCHS Well, I'm not going to let this happen... Childs struggles with him for a beat and then flings him to the ground. Dr. Copper grabs him preventing him from getting back up. Childs splays the remains with a jet of flame. Fuchs shakes his head in frustration and disgust. FUCHS I just can't believe it... We're going to go down as the biggest bunch of assholes in history... MACREADY Fuck history. At least we're going to live to be an old bunch of assholes. CUT TO: INT. KENNEL - NIGHT The night feeding. Clark dishes out the food. Blair is taking blood samples from the remaining three dogs. BLAIR (perplexed, bothered) Clark, did you notice anything strange about that dog? Just anything at all? Any little thing? CLARK No. Just that he recovered real quick... That night when I found him in the rec room, he had already scraped off his bandage. Before I put him with the others, I redressed his wound and noticed it had healed up real good... A beat as Blair stares at Clark. BLAIR That night? CLARK (pets dog vigorously) Yeah. BLAIR What was he doing in the rec room? CLARK Well, after I worked on him -- thought I'd let him rest. Left the room for a bit. When I came back, he was gone. BLAIR Well, where was he? Where did he go? CLARK Don't know. Looked for him for a bit... couldn't find him. BLAIR (a long beat) You're saying he wasn't put into the kennel until the night? Clark seems uneasy under Blair's intense gaze. CLARK Well... yeah. Blair stands, his eyes still glued to Clark. BLAIR How long were you with the dog? Alone, I mean? CLARK Ah... He was hurt bad. Bullet nicked an artery... I don't know... An hour... hour and a half... Blair's eyes glaze as if in revelation. CLARK What the hell you looking at me like that for? BLAIR Nothing. Nothing at all. He backs out of the kennel. INT. HALLWAY - COMPOUND Irritated, distressed, station manager Garry moves briskly down the hall. Blair, worried and pale, tries to keep up with him. BLAIR ...It could have gotten to somebody... GARRY Anybody sick? BLAIR No, I... I don't mean infection... or disease... Garry stops at the entrance to the communications room. GARRY Any luck yet? Sanchez shrugs. SANCHEZ Couple seconds of an Argentine disco station. GARRY Well, stick with it. I want you at it round the clock. We got to get help in here... BLAIR (alarm) No... No, you can't let anyone in here... That dog was all over this camp... Bennings interrupts, entering the hallway, referring to his meteorological chart. BENNINGS (to Garry) Travel-wise, tomorrow may be okay. But after that some pretty nasty northeasterly shit's coming in. FUCHS ...Goddamn fools... The men outside come stomping through the hallway. BLAIR (pleading) Listen to me, Garry. Please... GARRY (to MacReady) If the weather clears enough before we reach anybody -- I'm sending you and Doc up to MacMurdo... BLAIR No! You can't let people leave... MACREADY I ain't going anywhere in anything over forty knots, Garry... GARRY (snapping) The hell you won't, MacReady! BLAIR Don't you understand?! That Thing didn't want to become a dog... GARRY (fed up) Damn you, Blair! You've already got everybody half-hysterical around here. BLAIR You can't let anybody leave! GARRY I've got six dead Norwegians on my hands, a burned up flying saucer, and we've just destroyed the scientific find of the century. Now fuck off! Close on Blair, ashen-faced, falling silent. As if in a daze, he watches the men as they continue to converse. Suspicious, frightened. CUT TO: EXT. COMPOUND - NIGHT Pitch black except for the barest of lighting which outlines the building. Wind. The swirl of ice. INT. MACREADY'S CABIN - NIGHT Far away from the others, MacReady sits in his little hovel putting the final screw into his mended chess set. On the other side of the set, his busty, inflatable companion has been propped up in a chair. His sombrero hangs down her back, keeping her in place. Hawaiian music plays from his tape deck. MACREADY All set. He puts down his screwdriver, holds up his glass and offers a toast with a big grin. MACREADY To us. He clinks the drink he has made for her that rests on her side of the board. He sips. He turns on the machine and makes his first move. MACREADY Now go easy on me, Esperanza. I'm just a beginner. The set answers for Esperanza. CHESS VOICE Rook takes bishop at Queen four -- Rook take pawn at Queen two -- Rook takes Queen at Queen one -- Checkmate. MACREADY Aw shit. He flips open the circuitry panel in disgust. He tosses his screwdriver on the board and grabs his drink, downing it. MACREADY Sorry, hon. He reaches inside his ice bucket. Empty. MACREADY Never any damn ice around here... EXT. MACREADY'S CABIN - NIGHT MacReady exits. He swacks at a nearby bank of ice with a small ice pick. MACREADY Now in Mexico... Tahiti... They got ice... They got ice coming out of their ears. The sound of a clanking. He turns his attention. Metal against metal. Strange. MacReady listens. It appears to be coming from far off below, near the camp. MACREADY as he makes his way down with the aid of the steadying ropes. The clanking louder now. He senses the direction. MACREADY at the bottom near the main compound. The sound has stopped. He looks around in the near blackness. A beat. THE CHOPPERS sitting idle in the dark. MacReady approaches. The door to one of the cockpits is slightly ajar. He opens it cautiously. INT. CHOPPER MacReady slips in. He turns on a flashlight. The controls have been mangled. Beaten with something heavy. Bang!! MacReady, startled, turns. Like the sound of a gun. Coming from the main compound. INT. COMPOUND - MAIN ENTRANCE Confusion. Shouts. MacReady enters. He grabs Palmer as he and Bennings rush by. MACREADY What's... PALMER Blair. He's gone berserk. BENNINGS He's in the radio room. Got a gun. Beat on Sanchez something fierce. HALLWAY - RADIO ROOM ENTRANCE The men are on either side of the open radio room doorway. Garry peeks his head in. A gunshot blast forces him back. RADIO ROOM Sanchez lies on the floor, groaning. Blair holds the gun on the door. He wields a fire ax with the other hand and smashes down on the radio. BLAIR Anybody interferes, I'll kill! Nobody's getting in or out of this camp... HALLWAY MacReady has joined the others. MACREADY He smashed one of the choppers up good. Childs, go check the other one and the tractor. Childs is off. RADIO ROOM Blair crunches the ax down once again, while keeping an eye on the door. BLAIR ...You think I'm crazy? Fine! Most of you don't know what's going on -- but I'm damn well sure some of you do! (crunch) BACK TO HALLWAY NORRIS The back window. A couple of us could maybe surprise him. MACREADY Too damn dangerous. BACK TO RADIO ROOM BLAIR ...You think this Thing wants to become an animal? Dogs can't make it 1000 miles to the sea. No skua gulls to imitate this time of year... No penguins this far inland... Don't you understand?! It wanted to become us! He brings the ax down hard on the radio. BACK TO HALLWAY Childs runs up, out of breath. CHILDS He got both choppers and the tractor... I don't know how bad yet. Garry readies his large .357 Magnum. MACREADY No, wait a minute. (to Norris) The fuse box. Norris double-times down the hall. MacReady turns the corner and into the rec room. He grabs one of the thick card tables. MacReady returns with the table to the hallway. BLAIR ...Can't you see...? If one cell of this Thing got out it could imitate every living thing on Earth. Nothing could stop it! Nothing! MACREADY (humoring) Look Blair, maybe you're right about this. But we've got to be rational. We've got to talk this over. I'm unarmed and I'm coming in. BLAIR No, you're not! I don't trust any of you! NORRIS reaches the fuse box. He opens it. HALLWAY MacReady readies the table like a shield. MACREADY If you're right we've all got to stick together. The lights go out. MacReady charges into the black room. Blair fires. MacReady barrels into him, knocking him to the ground. He pummels him with a right hand and manages to control the gun. The others dive in and pile on. CUT TO: EXT. COMPOUND Heavily-clothed, MacReady, Fuchs and Dr. Copper help a dazed Blair to a toolshed some seventy-five yards from the main compound. INT. TOOLSHED More spacious than MacReady's. Very livable. Two windows. Blair has been placed on the cot. Dr. Copper injects him with a sedative. BLAIR Why am I here? DR. COPPER It's for your own protection, Blair. MACREADY And mainly ours. EXT. SHACK Fuchs and MacReady nail boards over the windows. MACREADY Leave a bit of an opening so he can see out. Blair's droopy-eyed, heavily drugged features loom up at MacReady through the window. MACREADY How you doin', old boy? BLAIR (softly) I don't know who to trust. MACREADY (humoring) Know what you mean, Blair. Trust is a tough thing to come by these days. Just trust in the Lord. BLAIR (beat) Watch Clark. MACREADY What? BLAIR Watch him close. Ask him why he didn't kennel the dog. Blair's face disappears from the window. CUT TO: EXT. COMPOUND - DAY Harsh and grey. Getting very dark as winter takes a stronger hold. Bennings is dumping the trash in a large hole in the snow which acts as the trash dump. Bennings finishes and drags the empty bins past Palmer and Childs, who are fixing the wounded choppers. INT. RADIO ROOM The radio looks a mess. Norris and Sanchez, a bandage wrapped around his head, examines the damage. He is in pain and still looks a little groggy. SANCHEZ I'll see what I can do. But they didn't teach me much about fixing these things. Norris smiles and pats him comfortingly. NORRIS They didn't teach you much about working them either. INT. MESS HALL - MORNING CLOSE ON A BUFFET OF EGGS, BACON, TOAST, ETC. Pull back. The men help themselves. It is a cramped, elongated room. Dr. Copper approaches Nauls and hands him a capsule. DR. COPPER Put this in Blair's juice before you take him his tray. Clark comes running into the room, pallid, out of breath. The men turn to look. CLARK The dogs... CUT TO: INT. THE KENNEL Empty. Clark and Garry examine the latch of the kennel door. GARRY Doesn't look broken. CLARK No. Door was wide open. I know I latched it. EXT. COMPOUND ABOVE THE UNDERGROUND KENNEL CLOSE ON THE DOGS' TRACKS in the snow. They lead from the kennel's open stairwell and out onto the ice. All the men have gathered. CLARK All three of them took off. MacReady is writing down what appears to be a list on a pad. DR. COPPER How long do you suppose they've been gone? CLARK I haven't seen them since their last feeding. Could be as much as twenty- four hours. MACREADY They couldn't have gotten that far in this weather. Garry and several others turn to MacReady quizzically. GARRY You're not thinking of going after them, are you? MACREADY I am going after them. NORRIS What in the hell for? Even if Blair's right -- they'll just die out there. No food. They're over a thousand miles from anything. PALMER Chopper aren't going to be ready for days. MacReady hands his list to Bennings. MACREADY Get these things out of supply and meet me over by the snowmobiles. GARRY You're not going to catch them in one of those with the start they got. MACREADY Palmer, how long would it take you to strap those big four-cylinder carburetors on? PALMER (grins) Oh, I got you. Not too long. MACREADY Then get a move on. Childs, come with me. He puts his arm around Childs and pulls him along. The others watch them walk off, a little bewildered. GARRY (shouting after them) Besides, what are you going to do when you catch up to them? Bennings is reading MacReady's list. BENNINGS Holy shit. (hands list to Garry) Whatever he's going to do, he ain't fucking around. EXT. OUTDOOR WORK AREA - CLOSE ON THE BARREL of the large torch. A fierce stream of flame bursts from its nozzle. Pull back. The stream has shot out some fifteen feet. Childs has been modifying it. CHILDS I can get maybe another five or six feet out of it. MACREADY That's good enough. CLOSE ON PALMER as he works on the snowmobiles. Into frame rolls a wheelbarrow on sleds. A box marked DYNAMITE is its most prominent article. Pull back. Bennings reads off the list of supplies. BENNINGS All right... Box of dynamite... box of thermite... three shotguns... box of flares... two flare guns... thirty cans gasoline... and a case of alcohol. MACREADY Let's load 'em. EXT. ANTARCTICA - ICESCAPE The two vehicles rip across the hard, flat ice, bolstered by the added horsepower. They follow the still visible dog tracks in the snow. CUT TO: THE SUN sliding across the horizon, signaling midday. The snowmobiles whoosh past. Bennings drives the one loaded with supplies. MacReady and Childs double up on the other. CUT TO: MACREADY steadying his binoculars, while Childs drives, spots something up ahead. The vehicles slow down and come to a halt. Something lies just ahead of them in the whiteness, in the middle of the dog tracks. THE MEN kneel down by the "something." It is the half-eaten remains of a dog. Its hind legs and lower stomach picked clean. Its ripped hide, flapping in the wind. Its top half missing. CHILDS What is it? MacReady follows the line of continuing dog tracks. MACREADY Maybe dinner. BENNINGS Dogs don't eat each other. MACREADY (beat) I know. CHILDS Where's the other half? MACREADY Probably the next meal. MacReady moves to the snowmobile and grabs a two-gallon can of gasoline. He turns to Bennings. MACREADY Where these tracks headed? BENNINGS Nowhere... Just straight to the ocean. A beat as MacReady takes this in. He pours the gas over the remains and sets it aflame. MACREADY Let's move. Childs and Bennings are not that anxious to continue. CHILDS They could be hours ahead of us, Mac. BENNINGS Gonna get dark soon, too. Supposed to be fifty below tonight. MacReady gets on and revs up the engine. MACREADY Turn back if you want. Childs and Bennings return shrugs. CUT TO: THE SUN making its last pass, rolling off the horizon. Only a slight orange hue left. CUT TO: THE SNOWMOBILES move slower, positioned on either side of the tracks. The tracks abruptly change direction. The men come to a stop. It is much colder now. Their beards, a mask of white powder. MacReady surveys the new direction. They are headed toward a far-off ridge of bluffs. Large, windswept mounds of ice. CUT TO: THE SNOWMOBILES as they move through a valley of newly-formed dunes and tall ice cliffs. The last of the sun obscured, the headlamps are turned on and pointed at the tracks. The men look behind, in front, and from side to side, as they proceed cautiously through the maze. Up ahead MacReady spots: A DOG It sits, its back to them, unconcerned, heedless of their arrival. It is munching on the other half of the dog carcass. The men stop their machines some twenty yards from it. They are hemmed in at the valley's narrowest point. Childs, carrying the torch, and MacReady, armed with a thermite bomb, wade awkwardly but carefully toward the animal in their snowshoes. Bennings stands back by the snowmobiles. Childs and MacReady spread out some dozen feet from the dog. It continues to pay them no mind, content to chew its food. CHILDS Where's the other one? Bennings surveys the tops of the snow bluffs that encircle them with his flashlight. MACREADY (to dog) Where's your buddy, boy? Huh? No response. MacReady searches the near vicinity with his light. All three are growing uneasy. MACREADY Let that thing fly, Childs. Don't let up until he's ash. Childs turns on the gas and lights the tip. Bennings is still watching the bluffs. Something from beneath the snow reaches up and grabs his feet. He is ripped back down through the hard snow in one incredibly powerful motion. He screams, his head the only thing sticking out of the ice. Childs and MacReady turn, confused, unable to see anything be Bennings' screaming head. They rush toward him. MacReady stumbles. The sound of a snapping, a crackling to MacReady's rear. He freezes; turns back to the dog. Its back is still to him; its coat of hair sticking up like that of a porcupine. It snarls; its face turns slowly toward him. Its skin splitting; its mouth ripping open wildly. MACREADY Childs!! Childs stops, confused as to who to help first. He notices the dog hunched and ready to spring. He steps back toward MacReady. The dog/Thing leaps for MacReady; an incredible jump of some twenty feet. Childs lets loose a blast, hitting the dog in midair; the force of the spray knocking it back and tumbling to the ice in flames. MacReady throws his thermite canister. It discharges and engulfs the screeching animal in fire. BENNINGS howling in pain. The ice underneath him thrashes violently. Childs and MacReady stand by helplessly, unable to see what has him or what action to take. Childs moves closer to help. MACREADY (pulls him back) Stay back!! Bennings' head disappears with a sudden jerk through the ice. The ice continues to rumble like boiling water, moving in different directions. Part of Bennings' body pops up in a different area and is just as quickly pulled back down. MacReady and Childs watch on in frustration and anger. CHILDS What we going to do?! MACREADY How the fuck do I know?! Bennings' head and shoulders then surface near one of the snowmobiles. Something has him. Unclear as to what. The jowls of a dog. But huge. Bennings' heavy clothing begins to rip, tear, as if his skin underneath was bulging out. The jowls seem to be absorbing his head. MacReady runs for the snowmobile. MACREADY Torch them!! CHILDS But... MACREADY He's gone already! Do it! Childs blasts away. The ice begins to melt as Bennings and whatever has him catch fire. A screeching. MacReady grabs cans of gas from the snowmobiles. Suddenly a steel-like, arachnid-shaped arm shoots out in pain and with incredible force pierces the fiberglass chassis of the snowmobile. MacReady is knocked back. He recovers and dumps cans of gasoline on the writhing mess. He dives and rolls away from the lunging appendage. He and Childs watch on as Bennings and The Thing roar in flame. Behind them, the other dog/Thing continues to burn. The screeching, mewing and gurgling wails on, all about them. They look to each other in disbelief, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames. The strident sounds beginning to subside. THE SUN Its slim, orange arc sets, signaling the start of the Vernal Equinox. And the beginning of six months of darkness. CUT TO: INT. COMPOUND - REC ROOM The men are interrogating Clark. He is frazzled and defensive. CLARK ...I'm telling you I don't remember leaving the kennel unlatched... Childs is holding the industrial torch directly in his face. CHILDS Bullshit! You left it open so they could get out! EXT. TRASH DUMP MacReady, waist-deep in trash and snow, searches for something. INT. REC ROOM The interrogation continues. CLARK ...Would I even have told you they were gone if I had anything to hide? GARRY But why didn't you kennel that dog right away? CLARK I told you I couldn't find... (pushes torch away) ...get that out of my face. Childs grabs him by the collar and rips him off his chair. CHILDS Don't you be telling me... Nauls steps between them. NAULS (to Childs) Lighten your load, sucker. You ain't the judge and executioner around here! CHILDS Who you trying to protect, mutherfucker? I'm telling you this S.O.B. could be one of them. Garry breaks it up, pulling them apart. MacReady enters from the outside. A bundle is tucked under his arm. GARRY Hold on, damn it. We're getting nowhere... If this bit of Blair's about absorbing and imitating is true... then that dog could have gotten to anybody. DR. COPPER And if it got to Clark... Clark could have gotten to anybody. MacReady moves over to the table. DR. COPPER Theoretically any of us could be whatever the hell this thing is. Norris shakes his head, rubbing his chest in slight discomfort. NORRIS It's just too damn wild -- I can't believe it. MacReady pushes his sombrero back over his head. MACREADY Well, you can believe it now. He drops the bundle he had been holding on the table between the men. It is the shredded pair of long johns. MACREADY Nauls found this yesterday. It's ripped just like the clothing on the Norwegian we brought back. The same thing was happening to Bennings' clothes when it got to him. Seems these Things don't imitate clothes. Just flesh and bone. The men look from one another. Silence. MacReady picks it up and examines the label. MACREADY Size large. (grins) What do you wear, Clark? Clark stews. CLARK So what? NORRIS I wear a size large, too. MACREADY So do I. So do most of us. The uneasiness in the room grows. MACREADY Doubt if it got to more than one or two of us. But it got to someone. (beat) Somebody in this room ain't what he appears to be. A pause as all eyes travel from man to man. SANCHEZ (scared) Well, what we going to do? Norris turns to Dr. Copper and Fuchs. NORRIS Can there be... some kind of test? To find out who's what? DR. COPPER A serum test possibly. FUCHS Right. Why not? GARRY What's that? DR. COPPER It's a simple blood typing test. This Thing's blood chemistry is different than ours. Basically we mix someone's blood with uncontaminated human blood. If we don't get the proper serum reaction -- then that person isn't human. CHILDS Whose uncontaminated blood we going to use? DR. COPPER We've got blood plasma in storage. GARRY How long will it take you to prepare this? DR. COPPER A couple of hours. GARRY Well, get to it. Garry unhinges a key from his belt and hands it to Dr. Copper. Dr. Copper and Fuchs head for the infirmary. PALMER How's that Thing get to the dogs? I though we stopped it in time. MACREADY Copper thinks they swallowed pieces of it during the fight. PALMER And that was enough? DR. COPPER (O.S.) Garry. The rest of you! Come here! INT. INFIRMARY The men rush in. Fuchs and Copper stand by the open plasma storage refrigerator. The inside is a mess of dried blood. The bladders have been ripped open. Copper is ghastly pale. DR. COPPER Somebody got to the blood... sabotaged it. NAULS Oh, my God. A horrified silence. MACREADY Was it broken into? FUCHS No. Somebody opened it. Closed it. And then locked it. Sanchez twitches, terrified. MACREADY Well, who's got access to it? DR. COPPER I guess I'm the only one. GARRY And I've got the only key. Several pairs of eyes turn to Garry. MACREADY Would that test have worked? DR. COPPER I think so. NORRIS Somebody else sure as hell thought so. MACREADY Who else could have used that key? GARRY Ah... no one... I give it to Copper when he needs it... MACREADY Could anyone have gotten it from you? DR. COPPER I don't see how... when I'm finished I return it right away. NORRIS When was the last time you used it? DR. COPPER (uneasy) A day or so ago... I guess. Garry senses the nervous and inquiring eyes on him. GARRY I suppose... well, it's possible someone might have lifted it from me. But... CHILDS That key ring of yours is always hooked to your belt. Now how could somebody get to it without you knowing? GARRY (upset, flustered) Look, I haven't been near that... that refrigerator. Silence as the men continue to stare. Sanchez is perspiring. GARRY Copper's the only one who has any business with it. The eyes shift from Garry to Copper. DR. COPPER Now...