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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. Bless you. My name's Jim Halsey. John Ryder. 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? Yeah, sure. What are you looking|at me like that for? Just looking. What are you doing? What'd you do that for? I asked you a question. Scare you? Look, I think you better|get out now. The ride's over. Good-bye. I'm gonna sit here... and you're gonna drive. Excuse me. - 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? Would help. Okay. 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. Don't. What part of Illinois you from? - What?|- Your license plate. Tell the man. Chicago. My wife's from Rockford.|You got a cigarette? All right, the road's clear now.|Come on. Get going, sweethearts. Drive. 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. Keep driving! Please. I'll do anything. Say four words: Say... ''I want to die.'' Say what? ''I want to die.'' Say it. - I don't know if I can say that.|- Sure you can. Repeat after me. ''I... want... to... die.'' I don't want to die! Fuck you, buddy! Jesus Christ! Hey! Pull over! Pull over! The guy|in your car's a nut! Shoot him. 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! Oh, fuck. Come on, you son of a bitch. Hey, stop! Stop! Wait! - Okay, see you at 4:00.|- Bye-bye. Shit. 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. No! Listen. - 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. You do? Yes, sir.|Yes, sir. I won't go anywhere. Jesus. 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? What? 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. Jesus! Oh, my God! He put that there! Now shut up. Don't move. 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? Not really. 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. It's 312-399-2090. 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. It's 312-905-9044. 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. Let's go. Jack? That kid isn't a killer.|Any fool could see that. Okay, face front. Hold real still. Now turn to your right. Steady. Make it your left. Oh, those are real good.|Your mama's gonna like those. Let's go. You behave yourself now. Hello? Go! I'm right behind you.|Come on! Let's go. Come on, come on. Stop! - 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? Ready... steady... go. - 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. Bang. 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. Bye, Alice. Well, what happened to you? Nothing. Nothing? Nothing happened. - 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. I will. - Please.|- Oh, I will. 'Cause you can sure as shit bet|I'm gonna squeeze mine. Bam! Why are you doing this to me? Come here. 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? Sure. No, you don't. I wouldn't either. Let's go sit down. What are you gonna do? Give up. I have no choice. Nice and easy. Come on. Step down. All right, step down. I'm turning myself in. Get out from behind the door!|Step away from the bus. Get down! Move! 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. Goddamn you. 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. Let's go. - 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. Do mine. 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? Hello! The bastard's on his way. Hold it there.|That's a good speed. Shit. 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! Shoot back! You got him. Watch it. She's got a gun.|Watch it. Get down. You got him. I dropped the gun. You what? Get the shotgun! Be careful, now. There you go. Hold on! Holy shit! Are you okay? Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. 1073, 221, are you okay? Let's go, you son of a bitch! Oh, God. Come on.|Let's get out of here. - Why didn't he kill us?|- Let's go. Why didn't he kill us? Let's go. 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. I'm scared. Me too. Thanks. Nash? Are you awake? Let's head 'em out! No, I'm okay. Don't-- I'm okay. 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. Hostage situation. Hold your fire. Hold it! Please, don't! Why don't you do something?|Fuckin' do something! We can't! Hold it! - No!|- Do something! If we shoot him, his foot will come off|that clutch, and that truck will roll. Please! Now, you get in there|and you see what you can do. Please, do something! Please, help! She's sweet. 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. Please! Yeah. Sure. So what? Pick up the gun. Do something! Put it in my face. Right there. That's good. You know what to do. Now do it. Squeeze the trigger. She'll die. Oh, God. You useless... waste. 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? Tired. He can't see us or hear us. I want to talk to him. What's your name? Come on. Come on.|What's your name? Do you have a name? John Ryder. What'd you say? His name is John Ryder. Do you have a police record? Where are you from? Disneyland. How long do we|have to play this game? Y'all give me a minute? Come on. All right, that's enough of that.|It was a bad idea in the first place. Captain Esteridge,|is it true that-- No comment. 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. Okay? Can I have one of your cigarettes? Sure. 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? Get out. 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'. Yeah... I do. Hi, kid. Come on. Come on! |
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