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as Deckard tries to get a shot, FIRING AWAY until his
laser's empty. Bloody and crazed, Batty pushes up
against him.
BATTY
What's wrong? Don't you like me?
I'm what we've made!
INT. TENTH FLOOR HALL - NIGHT 116
He's backing Deckard out the door. Deckard trips and
falls. There's fear on his face. The strength is gone.
Something is starting to crack.
BATTY
What's wrong? Aren't you a lover
of Faster, Bigger and Better?!
Deckard's pedaling backwards over the floor.
BATTY
It's time to die.
Deckard throws the laser at him. It misses. Batty
throws his head back and laughs. A one-eyed colossus
about to eat the world. Suddenly he stops. His eye
moves over the wall.
BATTY
Ah!
He reaches out and pinches something. His lips compress
as he yanks it out of the wall. It's a ten-penny nail.
He holds it out to Deckard and drops it. Deckard
catches it.
BATTY
That's for you.
One side of Batty's face smiles savagely.
BATTY
Stick it in your ear and push.
If that doesn't work, try the
eye.
Deckard stares at the nail in his hand, then up at
his executioner.
BATTY
Believe me, it'll be better
for you than what I'm about
to do.
Batty watches him, hoping the stimulus might inspire
his victim to more action. It doesn't look like it.
BATTY
Well?
Deckard springs to his feet and bolts. But instead of
going for the stairwell he turns in the first available
door.
INT. TENTH FLOOR APARTMENT #2 - NIGHT 117
Provocation accomplished. Batty smiles and walks lei-
surely towards the door. Deckard's terrified scream
and the SOUND of GLASS CRASHING stop him. Batty speeds
up and moves into the room.
The window pane is splattered, curtains sucked out,
bellowing in the wind.
BATTY
Crap.
He walks up to the window. Deckard comes away from the
wall, inching up behind him, laser in both hands, aimed
at the base of Batty's skull. Batty starts to lean
over, but even before his eyes see the pavement, he
knows. He spins...
Deckard FIRES again. This one goes home. Batty falls
like he was poleaxed, hits the floor dead weight.
Deckard starts to tremble. His arms go limp as his
head tilts back and he closes his eyes. He can breathe
again.
On the floor, Batty's hand is crawling toward Deckard's
ankle.
With the unsuspected abruptness of a man slipping on a
banana peel, Deckard comes down. Face knotted in hor-
ror, he EMPTIES THE LASER in Batty's body -- but the
hand holds on. With a screech of frustration he drops
the laser and like an animal claws at Batty's dead
fingers -- but the fingers are welded shut.
Deckard starts to crawl, pulling Batty behind him. He
struggled through the door and stumbles to his feet.
INT. TENTH FLOOR HALL - NIGHT 118
Deckard plunges down the corridor dragging Batty along.
He falls, gets to one foot, falls again and crawls the
last couple feet to the stairwell.
INT. TENTH FLOOR STAIRWELL - NIGHT 119
Groaning, he tugs and pulls, hauls and heaves Batty's
body to the edge of the landing. He pauses for breath,
then lays back, wedging his feet against Batty's shoul-
ders and pushes. Inch by inch the body goes over the
edge. Then all at once it drops. But the hand holds
and the weight of the body takes Deckard with it. As
Deckard slides over the edge, he grabs hold of the
railing.
Deckard's hanging three hundred feet over the basement
floor, supporting himself and Batty's corpse -- almost
four hundred pounds of stress on his fingers.
With his free foot he chops away at Batty's hand, try-
ing to break it loose. But it's not working. Deckard's
fingers are starting to slip.
His face is a mask of agony as he wedges his heel over
Batty's thumb. With the help of gravity and everything
he's got in his right leg to push with, he pushes. The
thumb breaks loose. Batty falls.
The SOUND OF HIS BODY HITTING BELOW sounds good, but
Deckard doesn't notice. He's in an awkward position.
He must reverse the way he's facing to pull himself up.
He lets go with his right hand and crosses it over the
left. Then turns the left around so he's got an over-
hand grip.
Like a man doing his last pull-up... the one that can't
be done, Deckard pulls himself up, throws a foot over
the edge and grapples and heaves and wiggled himself
onto the cold solid steel of the stairwell landing.
And lies there, body jerking spasmodically, slowly
clenching and unclenching his cramped hand, but it's
his burning cheek against the cool metal he's most aware
of.
Dizzy, hot, lungs on fire, he stands -- and putting one
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