It's 4:15 on a Saturday morning|in El Paso town.
This is Uncle Bruce here going on|with the farm and market report...
on the station|all El Paso listens to.
My mother told me|never to do this.
My name's Jim Halsey.
So you want me|to drop you off somewhere?
I'm getting your car wet.
Oh, this isn't my car.|It's a drive-away.
The owner's in San Diego.
So where you headed?
- You got a smoke?|- Yeah, sure.
You gonna tell me|where you're going?
What are you looking|at me like that for?
What are you doing?
What'd you do that for?
I asked you a question.
Look, I think you better|get out now.
The ride's over.
I'm gonna sit here...
and you're gonna drive.
- What's wrong with that car back there?|- Why?
Thought I saw something,|that's all.
- I ran out of gas.|- So you need a gas station?
Gas stations have cigarettes.
What about gas?
I don't need gas.
What do you want?
What's so funny?
That's what the other guy said.
Who's the other guy?
The guy who was driving that car back|there. Picked me up before you did.
- Was that him in the car?|- I'm sure it was.
He couldn't have walked very far.
Why is that?
Because I cut off his legs...
and his arms...
and his head.
And I'm gonna do|the same to you.
What part of Illinois you from?
- What?|- Your license plate.
Tell the man.
My wife's from Rockford.|You got a cigarette?
All right, the road's clear now.|Come on. Get going, sweethearts.
You want to know what happens|to an eyeball when it gets punctured?
You got any idea how much blood jets out|of a guy's neck...
when his throat's been slit?
What do you want?
I want you to stop me.
You got the knife.
You'll stick me with it|before I can do anything.
That's right. So what have you|got to lose? Stop me.
Crying isn't gonna help.
Please. I'll do anything.
Say four words:
''I want to die.''
''I want to die.''
- I don't know if I can say that.|- Sure you can.
Repeat after me.
I don't want to die!
Fuck you, buddy!
Hey! Pull over!
Pull over! The guy|in your car's a nut!
That guy's a fucking nut|in your car! Pull over!
- Kill him.|- That guy will kill you!
That guy, get him|out of your car!
Where do you think you're going?|Come back!
Come on, you son of a bitch.
Hey, stop! Stop!
- Okay, see you at 4:00.|- Bye-bye.
We're closed. We don't open|for another 45 minutes.
Please, I need to use a phone!
Sorry. I can't let you in.|We're closed.
- Please, I have to call the cops.|- What happened?
I can't explain right now.|I just need to use the phone.
If Jack saw me doing this,|he'd kick my butt.
Phone's around the corner. Go on.
You stink of gasoline.|Were you in an accident?
Hello, police? My name's Jim Halsey.|I know who killed those people in--
I picked this guy up hitchhiking--
Same guy blew up the gas station.
Jim Halsey. H-A-L-S-E-Y.
I'm at the Longhorn Restaurant.
Yes, sir.|Yes, sir. I won't go anywhere.
If you think the cops are gonna arrive|soon, you got another thing coming.
A guy got shot in the corner|a couple months ago.
It took them 45 minutes to get here|with the ambulance.
By that time|the poor guy was dead.
Specialty of the house.
ActuaIly the cook's not here yet.|It's the only thing I know how to make.
Thanks.|That's real nice of you.
Everything gonna be okay?
I hope so.
You sure look|a whole lot better.
Guess it's safe for me|to smoke now, huh?
Sorry I gave you|such a hard time, but...
you'd be surprised the kind of trash|that passes through here.
- How is it?|- Real good. Thanks.
My name's Nash.
I really appreciate this.
- Where you from?|- Chicago.
- Where you headed?|- California.
How'd you know that?
That's where everyone's going.|Hollywood?
No. San Diego.
I thought about moving|to California.
Jeremy, who owns this place--|he's my cousin.
And Uncle Jack does the cooking.
Like that, see?
We're all kind of interrelated.
It's kind of hard|to just pick up and leave.
But you never know.
My brother Bill is from Mars.
Actually we're all from Mars here.|We keep our spaceship out back.
So, what planet are you from?
You haven't heard a word|I said, have you?
Yes, I have.
That's okay. Go on.|Eat your cheeseburger.
I gotta get some stuff|out of the freezer anyway.
Stay where you are! Put your hands|in the air. Get down on the ground!
Wait a minute!|He's in there!
Get your ass on the cement,|or we open fire!
I'm not gonna tell you again!
Put your hands|behind your back slow.
- My wallet's in my pocket.|- Shut up!
We know how to do it.
Oh, my God! He put that there!
Now shut up.
What's going on?|What'd you do to him?
- You keep to yourself.|- Why you arresting him?
Pick up that stuff.|Do you know this guy?
Then what the hell|is he doing inside?
Half the cops in the state|are looking for this creep.
Let's get this sack of shit|out of here.
Where's your driver's license,|your I.D.?
Where are your credit cards?
The guy I've been telling you about|took my wallet and planted the knife.
My license was in my wallet.
I don't have any credit cards.
I suppose he took|your vehicle registration too?
What's a young kid like you driving|such a fancy car? You steal it?
The car doesn't belong to me.
It's a drive-away.
I'm supposed to be delivering it|to California.
The guy's in San Diego.
What's his name?
I don't remember.
But I know the number of the drive-away|company. Why don't you call them?
Hell, son. You better start calling|somebody 'cause you're in deep shit.
I know the number so well|because I called them so many times.
I was on their waiting list|for a month.
I wanted a car going|to California.
That's why it took so long.
Thank you for calling|Midwest Drive-away.
Our Chicago office hours are|9:00 to 5:00, Monday through Friday.
Closed Saturday and--
Well, now what are we gonna do?
You got one more call.
Call my brother, for God's sakes!|He'll be home.
Maybe you didn't let it|ring long enough.
Do I look like a killer to you?
Folks coming in from Austin tomorrow|gonna be interested in talking to you.
I'm gonna give you a chance|to get some rest.
Get him locked up.|Get him out of my sight.
That kid isn't a killer.|Any fool could see that.
Okay, face front.
Hold real still.
Now turn to your right.
Make it your left.
Oh, those are real good.|Your mama's gonna like those.
You behave yourself now.
Go! I'm right behind you.|Come on!
Come on, come on.
- Take her easy!|- Tell me about it.
Get over by the car.
Those cuffs on your belt...
take them off and lock|your partner's hands behind his back.
- You mean me?|- I mean you.
You! Yes, you!
Okay. We're gonna go|for a little ride now.
You two get in the front.|I'll get in the back.
- One of you open the door.|- Open the door, Jack.
Get in the car!
You and me, we're gonna|get in together, okay?
- Can I close the door?|- Shut the door.
Start the car.
Head for the highway.
Can you call out on that thing and get|me connected with somebody in charge?
I'll try to get through|to Captain Esteridge.
Do it. But don't tell anybody|where we are.
- Central, this is car number--|- I said don't tell them anything.
Central, this is one of your cars|and we've been hijacked by suspect.
He wishes to speak|to Captain Esteridge directly. Over.
Esteridge 10-11.|We'll try to locate. Standby.
10-12, El Paso. Clear.
This is Captain Esteridge.|Do you read? Over.
Captain, this is Jim Halsey.
You gotta listen to me, Captain.|I swear I didn't kill those people.
I got framed by this guy|I picked up hitchhiking.
What do you suggest|we do, son?
Come on, man. You tell me.
Why don't you|stop things right now...
let my men go|and give yourself up?
I don't have identification.
I don't have anybody to call|for you to check me out.
Are you willing to lay down|your arms and surrender?
I promise I'll do everything in my power|to see to it you're treated fairly.
I'm putting my trust in you, Captain.
Take us in.
Well, I know|you caught something...
because you're probably|the best dang fisherman around here.
But if that's the best|you can eat...
I don't know what you're|gonna be able to do.
That'll tide us over until--
Looks to me like you best go.
- Better get on the road.|- Yeah, I'll see you.
Well, what happened to you?
- I need some coffee.|- It's brewing.
- Bring it to me at one of the booths.|- You okay, kid?
How do you like Shitsville?
Don't you move.
You stay seated|right where you are...
or I'll blow your brains|through your ass.
The gun is empty.
You never checked it,|did you?
So help me,|I'll blow you in half.
All right.|Squeeze the trigger.
- Please.|- Oh, I will.
'Cause you can sure as shit bet|I'm gonna squeeze mine.
Why are you doing this to me?
You're a smart kid.
Figure it out.
I didn't do it.|I didn't do any of it.
I'm not gonna shoot anybody.
I'm not a killer.
This morning this guy|tried to kill me.
He's been following me|ever since.
I don't know why.
Do you believe me?
No, you don't.
I wouldn't either.
Let's go sit down.
What are you gonna do?
I have no choice.
Nice and easy. Come on.
All right, step down.
I'm turning myself in.
Get out from behind the door!|Step away from the bus. Get down!
Move your ass now!
I'm giving up|and I'm not guilty.
You just wasted|two of my friends.
- You spit on my wrist.|- What?
I said, ''You spit on my wrist.''
Wipe it off.
You can see I'm unarmed.
Wipe it off!
- Come on, Lyle. Go easy.|- Shut up!
- Let's get him back to the station.|- I said, ''Shut up!''
Wipe it off!
Put the gun down.
Drop your guns! Don't turn around.|Just drop them.
I can't believe you were gonna do|what you were gonna do.
Don't you know who he is?
You got the wrong man, Lyle.
Like hell we do.|Now just settle down and--
- Don't come any closer.|- Hand me that gun.
Just empty them.|You're in enough trouble already.
You just threw your life|down the toilet, girl.
When the truth comes down,|I'll be just fine.
I'm taking him to|the sheriff's office in Riley.
You stay put.
- Now what?|- We're going to Riley.
- Do you know how to use the radio?|- I better let you out here.
No. If I'm in the car with you,|they're not gonna hurt you.
- We can talk to them by radio.|- What are you gonna say?
We're gonna turn ourselves in.
Buckle your seat belt.
Hello? Can you read me?|We want to turn ourselves in.
We're turning ourselves in.|Can you read me? Over.
Listen to me this time.|We are turning ourselves in.
We just want to turn ourselves in!|Do you read me?
The bastard's on his way.
Hold it there.|That's a good speed.
Get the gun! Use it!
- No, I'm not gonna shoot anybody!|- Aim for the tire.
- Oh, God!|- They're gonna kill us!
- Use it! Shoot 'em!|- No!
I got you.
Jesus Christ! Use the gun!
You got him. Watch it.
She's got a gun.|Watch it. Get down.
You got him.
I dropped the gun.
Get the shotgun!
Be careful, now.
There you go.
Are you okay?
Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay.
1073, 221, are you okay?
Let's go, you son of a bitch!
Come on.|Let's get out of here.
- Why didn't he kill us?|- Let's go.
Why didn't he kill us?
Are you okay?
Why'd you pick him up?
I wanted to help him...
and I was tired.
I thought he'd|help me stay awake.
Can I sit by you?
- What are you doing?|- I want to call my father.
- No. No calls.|- It's only my father.
I said, no calls.
Not until we figure out|what we're gonna do.
I can explain it.
It's not that simple.
I already tried.
Are you awake?
Let's head 'em out!
No, I'm okay. Don't--
I just want you|to know where I am.
Everybody's|got this whole thing wrong.
No, I sound funny,|but I'm okay.
The Apostle Paul told us|to look within ourselves...
for the very spirit of faith.
You must look to nature where|the spirit is replenished daily.
I'm Reverend Hollis Maxwell inviting you|to visit a church this Sunday.
This is Channel 3,|KCIK Television, in Texas...
Iicensed by the F.C.C.|in Washington, D.C...
ending its broadcast day.
We invite you to join us|tomorrow at 6:00 a.m.
All right.|Don't hurt him, Ed.
You take it easy now.|Are you Jim Halsey?
- Who are you?|- I'm Captain Esteridge.
We spoke on the radio.
Where is she?
You come along with us now.|We're gonna need your help.
Hold your fire.
Why don't you do something?|Fuckin' do something!
- No!|- Do something!
If we shoot him, his foot will come off|that clutch, and that truck will roll.
Now, you get in there|and you see what you can do.
Please, do something!
The gun is loaded.
Go for it.
Go ahead. Pick it up.
Tell you what-- I'll let you hold|the gun on me before I do anything.
They'll catch you.
Pick up the gun.
Put it in my face.
You know what to do.
Now do it.
Squeeze the trigger.
I can't tell you|how sorry I am for you, son.
Anything I can do for you?
When you're finished here,|you should go see a real doctor...
and get a complete checkup.
We all know there|was nothing you could do.
- Who is he?|- We don't know.
No prison record,|no driver's license...
no birth certificate.
We ran his prints|through the computers...
and we came up with nothin'.
I know we'll find something, but|right now, I don't even know his name.
How do you feel?
He can't see us or hear us.
I want to talk to him.
What's your name?
Come on.|What's your name?
Do you have a name?
What'd you say?
His name is John Ryder.
Do you have a police record?
Where are you from?
How long do we|have to play this game?
Y'all give me a minute?
All right, that's enough of that.|It was a bad idea in the first place.
Captain Esteridge,|is it true that--
All right, son.|Get in the car.
Are you okay?
You'll never hold him.
All right, you listen up now,|and you listen good, son.
There's something strange between you.|I don't want to know what it is.
But I'm telling you,|he is in our hands now...
and whatever happens to him,|it won't be decided by you.
It doesn't have anything|to do with you anymore.
Can I have one of your cigarettes?
Stop the car.
You're not gonna use that thing.
Stop the car,|and don't do anything stupid.
All right.|What's on your mind?
You're gonna get yourself killed.
And if you don't, you're gonna be|in a whole lot of trouble.
I'm sorry, sir.
- It's something I gotta do.|- You don't know what you're doin'.
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