Amongst The Pyramids By Oliver Hosier

3 Dene Avenue Ormesby Great Yarmouth Norfolk 01493 731359

EXT. DESERT. DAY Present day, the sun rises up over the Pyramid of Giza, the weightless sand particles blow across the land before revealing the city of Giza itself. CUT TO: EXT. STREETS OF GIZA. DAY A busy market street is flooded with shop keepers willing to do anything to sell their precious ornaments to the interested but non-spending tourists. The ornaments hang, they stand, presentable to whoever is looking at them. The market is tight leaving minimal room for anyone who is in it. The atmosphere is loud and crowded. A disturbance to the atmosphere occurs when two white, middle aged men stubble out of a red, rusty door that is barely standing on its hinges. The first to fall is MARK LAMBURK. Aged 40, wearing a white tank top and urban green bottoms. MARK is in a rush, running from something or someone. MARK has a strong muscle exterior which gives him a strong leadership presence. He has no hair on his head with only a full, but short, mustache and beard to make up for it. Under his strong exterior is a scared and worried person and is evident in the rush to get through the street. The next to fall out is SAM LAMBURK. Even though SAM is MARKS brother they are different in many ways. The strong muscle exterior is the only thing that they have in common but SAM doesnt portray the sense of leadership. Compared to MARK, SAM has no sense of fear, but of happiness. This is evident in his face, smiling as he stumbles out of the door and onto the pavement. Knowing that MARK looks frightened, SAM seems to take the situation as some sort of joke. His black tank top and urban trousers are seen to have some sweat patches along with his wet, long hair. It shows that SAM is exhausted. As SAM stumbles to the ground MARK turns around and, with no hesitation, helps SAM off the ground before pushing him in front. They start to run, increasing their pace, occasionally checking behind to see if, what is following them, is catching up. Pushing and shoving anything in their path, the sounds of Arabic can be heard from behind SAM and MARK along with screams from the locals and the tourists. Rushing through different alleys and markets, MARK comes to a halt, almost to the point of falling over. SAM catches up behind, bending over, attempting to catch his breath. They both quickly scan from left to right searching for a way (CONTINUED)

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out. MARK notices a vehicle, points and starts to sprint swinging the doors open before climbing inside. The truck is old, rusty, barely holding itself together, however it is drivable. CUT TO: INT. RUSTY OLD TRUCK. DAY Slamming the doors with great urgency, MARK rushes into his pockets, scouting for his keys. Successful, MARK attempts to find the right key before placing it in the ignition. With little patient slowly decreasing, MARK eventually inserts the key and starts the car. A sense of satisfaction is evident in his face. CUT TO: EXT. STREETS OF GIZA. DAY The car ignition starts. The wheels on the old rusty truck spin aggressively before setting off onto the highway. CUT TO: INT. RUSTY OLD TRUCK. DAY A sense of tension and awkwardness fills the air. MARK looks into the front wind mirror, occasionally checking again every 30 seconds to make sure they are not being followed. SAM sits, slumped and relaxed, very different to MARK who sits stressed and paranoid. SAM occasionally looks over his shoulder. Going way over the speed limit, MARK confronts SAM with great aggression. MARK (loud and quick) What the hell was that SAM!? SAM just sits there, his smile has disappeared now knowing that his brother is not joking around. MARK confronts him again. MARK What?... youre a arms dealer now? Shit! He slams his hands on the steering wheel in anger. SAM still sits there, awkward and slumped. MARK looks over his shoulder to get a better view of the road behind him. MARK (CONTINUED)

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turns back around and suddenly notices a road block, slams the breaks and attempts the swerve, noticing that the wheel wont turn, it has locked. SAM and MARK both stiff up as the car smashes with great force into the road block. FADE TO BLACK: EXT. 3 MONTHS LATER. DESERT. DAY The winds blows more aggressively than before with the sand particles spinning in a circle before blowing away presenting the Pyramids of Giza in the background. CUT TO: EXT. STREETS OF GIZA. DAY The markets are again filled with shop keepers. The atmosphere is the same as before, cramped, stuffy, but full of interested tourists, still not buying the shop keepers merchandise. CUT TO: INT. APARTMENT ROOM. DAY The room is dark and stuffy. The blinds are close, leaving little sunlight to enter. Smoke fills the air with the worn down but used cigarettes, however there is more than just a few. The room is quiet with only the sound of the fan that hangs from the rooms ceiling. The room is empty with only a bed and a bed side desk. The desk is scuffed with scratch marks along the top. Sitting on the desk is a tipped over bottle of 100% absolute Vodka. It sits lonely and off balance just like the man sitting next to it. Also sitting on the bed side desk is a photo frame and a black swiss army knife. Within the photo frame is two middle-aged men, with both of them smiling, wrapping one arm around one another. It is a photo of MARK and SAM. Sitting on the worn down and rugged bed is a small stack of paper with the words Incident Report Form printed along the top. STILL IN INVESTIGATION is stamped, canted, in bold red font along the front page of the paper. Sitting slumped on the bed beside the stacks of paper is a very scruffy man, quite like the surroundings at which he sits in. Wearing the same urban green trousers and white tank top is MARK. With his face down MARK is thinking really hard about something and is evident in his face. His face is covered with dirt and sweat, presumably from the heat. At (CONTINUED)

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this point MARK has grown more facial hair than before, but this time it is untidy and full of crumbs from previous meals. The beam of light that slips through the window falls on MARKS back leaving his face in darkness, facing away from the market commotion outside the window. MARK at this point is not himself. With beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, MARK looks over at the photo frame that sits on the bed side desk to his right. He grabs it tightly and firmly, compressed in the palm of his hands. MARK stares blankly into the photo before releasing one hand at which he places on his head. Sounds of screams and sirens starts to become clear to MARK, however the sound is not coming from outside. Shaking his head viciously, MARK tries to shake the pain of the noise from his head. Getting more and more agitated MARK throws the photo-frame to the ground with anger. Still enraged MARK grabs the bottle of Vodka from the desk and quickly scans it. Understanding there is no more liquid left, the bottle is thrown which smashes to the ground shattering into little pieces. MARK begins to sob, tears become evident in his eyes before dropping to the ground with his back against the bed laying in the shattered glass from the smashed bottle of Vodka. MARKS sobbing turns to all out crying. MARK is in pain, a lot of pain. MARK has lost all happiness. CUT TO BLACK: INT. PUB. NIGHT The atmosphere is lively with punters exchanging conversations in Arabic and English. The pub is filled with tourists and locals from the area. The lighting of the pub is dim to allow unsociable punters to enjoy their drink. Numerous amounts of fans can be seen hanging from the ceiling slowing spinning around and around. The bar that sits at the end of the pub is what any old bar would look like, open, big, just enough for at least 10 punters to sit down. Rock music can be heard from the jukebox that stands alone in the corner of the room. Sitting alone and slumped at the bar is MARK, wearing again the same urban green trousers and white tank top from before. This time they are a bit dirty, even more dirty than before. Slamming his shot glass on the bar MARK is evidently drunk. Immediately another inch of absolute Vodka is poured into the same shot glass. Before the bar tender can move away, MARK grabs his arm and then the bottle, placing it violently and effortlessly in front of him. The bar tender walks away, allowing MARK to do as he pleads. Taking another (CONTINUED)

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shot, MARK pauses as the ambient sound around him fades. Clenching his face and pinching his nose, MARK starts to hear sirens and screams. The sound of screeching tires start become louder and clearer to MARK. Becoming more and more enraged with anger, MARK breathes deeply in and out before slamming the shot glass on the bar in incredible fury. The irritating noise stops, MARK looks around noticing the punters staring with confusion. MARK still enraged, pushes his stall back and walks out, taking the bottle of Vodka with him. The eyes of the punters follow him as he swings the entrance door open and walks out. CUT TO: EXT. STREETS OF GIZA. NIGHT The streets are empty, cold and compact. Litter roams along the bottom to the top of the street, giving a sense of a slum. The pub doors swings open violently revealing MARK as he stumbles down two steps and onto the streets of Giza. Still enraged, he stops and looks around, revealing no one. With no one to talk to, MARK is alone. Looking weak and fragile, MARK takes a look at the bottle of Vodka in his hand. Before he can take a sip, he takes a long and hard look at the bottle. Enraged, MARK throws the bottle screaming to the top of his lungs smashing it into a car wind screen. MARK has released some anger. Before MARK can relax, two figures emerge from behind the car that the bottle was thrown at. The figures are both dressed in smart uniform. The two figures are police officers. They are both wearing shined black boots carrying a 9mm semi-automatic pistol on the left side of their hip. Their uniform is dark blue with a hat that seems to cover their eyes giving them a intimidating feel about them. Standing with their hands on their hips they notice MARK standing in the middle of the street. MARK notices the two officers glaring at him before attempting to escape the situation. Paying no attention MARK stumbles in the opposite direction to the officers before tripping over a metal trash can leaving him helplessly on the floor. He smashes his face into a puddle generating more dirt on his body and face. MARK does not attempt to get back up but instead allows the two officers to tie him in hand cuffs before violently raising him to his feet. MARK is thrown into the smashed police car and driven away. FADE TO BLACK:

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INT. JAIL. NIGHT MARK is seen being escorted to his cell. His head is looking down as he is escorted along the catwalk of the jail, eventually arriving at a large black, rusty door. Barely holding onto its hinges one of the officers unlock the door before pushing MARK violently inside causing him to fall to the ground within the cell. The door slams behind him. The cell is grotty, old and cold. Moss grows along the corners of the cell, the sound of dripping water can be heard from the ceiling leaving a murky puddle in the center of the cell. The dark shadows give the cell and unpleasant feel to it. Beams of light escape through the bars that sit with power along the cell window about 8ft off the ground. MARK is weak and remains on the floor. Arising to his knees he scans the room and slowly but surely crawls to the sector of the cell that has light. The beam of light lays on MARKS face effortlessly. Placing his back against the wall MARK closes his eyes before realizing where he is. MARK begins to sob in short bursts before screaming to the top of his lungs. He falls from the wall to the floor and continues to sob. MARK has hit rock bottom. CUT TO BLACK: INT. JAIL. DAWN The sound of the dripping water continues leaving a bigger puddle than before. Beams of a orange light falls on MARKS face. He lays lifeless on the jail cell floor. He eyes slowly open, at first squinting, before adapting to the light widening his eye lids. MARK slowly moves up, remaining seated with his back against the wall. Pressing his hand against his head MARK is showing evidence that he is in pain. Looking weak and drained MARK looks around the room noticing the dripping water that falls from the ceiling into the lonely puddle within the middle of the room. MARK tilts his head back against the wall, places his hand against his forehead before quietly sobbing to himself, repeatedly apologizing. MARK stops sobbing, wiping his eyes as he continues to listen to the silence that surrounds him. Before another drip of water can hit the cell floor, a noise can be heard from outside the cell door. It is a voice of a man who is evidently trying to get MARKS attention. MAN You were a wreck last night mate... names JOAH aka Prisoner 224...what are you in for?

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MARK continues to ignore the man and realizes it is coming from the cell next door. A moment of silence starts to grow before MARK finally replies to the man. MARK (studder) Being... being an asshole. MARK looks down, thinking hard about what he has done, where he his and who he has become. A moment of silence grows once again until the man next door replies. JOAH What did you do? I mean everyone can be an asshole right? MARK slowly becomes more confident in what he is saying until he speaks about the car crash. MARK Its not what I did, its what I didnt do. We were running from something...someone, I didnt watch my speed...I tried to turn the wheel... it didnt move...I crashed. I drank nearly everyday... a bottle or two.... it was the only way to make the noises go away. Instead they came back stronger. MARK starts to sob, covering his eyes with his palm, tears violently falling to the floor. However he attempts to keep his volume to a minimum. Wiping his eyes, MARK has released his emotion before sitting in silence. JOAH Car crash right?... Im sorry...for your loss. I had a crash once, luckily I was the only one in car. Turned out some bastard tampered with my steering, caused it to lock...never found out who it was. I was arrested for dangerous driving. MARK is listening closely to what JOAH is saying and is some what confused. A noise of rattling keys and a door unlocking can be heard. MARKS cell door swings open. MARK raises to his feet and is escorted out of the cell by the two officers. He takes one last look at the room and walks out. Being escorted out, MARK glances at JOAHS cell door before continuing to the prison reception. FADE TO BLACK:

8. INT. JAIL RECEPTION. DAY Released from his cage, MARK is seen sitting in a chair in the jail reception. The reception is well lit, clean and bursting with life. Police officers are seen walking in and out carrying struggling criminals towards their cells. Reception phones continuously start to ring. MARK sits unsociable with his head to the floor. With officers walking back and forth one man stops and looks at MARK. MARK raises to his feet, shakes the mans hand and hands MARK a small stack of paper files. The man is well dressed in a suit and tie patterned in the American Flag colors. MARK smiles before letting the man go about his business. MARK sits back down again, slowly reading through the files. It is titled Incident Report Form, queried by MARK LAMBURK, investigated and signed by the US Embassy. It states that the car was tampered with before MARKS entrance into the vehicle. The tampered sector of the vehicle was the steering, causing it to lock. MARKS eyes move slowly down the page. At the bottom of the page is a section on conviction. It states Conviction on the murder of SAM LAMBURK, AHMAD PRIME arrested on Sunday 25 August 2013. Under it shows a picture of a man, rugged, and tired looking. He has a scar along his left cheek and a tattoo along the other cheek. MARK closes the file, places both hands on it and takes a deep breath. MARK from this point seems relaxed as if a great weight has been lifted of his shoulders. MARK raises to his feet before walking towards the reception desk. Greeting him there is a beautiful woman, dressed in formal clothing with long black hair down to her shoulders. She smiles at MARK before kindly gesturing her service. MARK Prisoner 224...JOAH, can you tell him MARK said thanks for everything? The woman seems puzzled by MARKS favor and starts typing on her computer. Moving her head closer to the screen, the women stares at MARK with confusion. WOMEN Sorry Sir, no one has been in that cell for three months, no one on are system called JOAH, its empty. MARKS confusion starts to match the womans behind the desk. Still in confusion, MARK gives a thankful gesture and starts to walk out. Slowly but surely. (CONTINUED)

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CUT TO: EXT. STREETS OF GIZA. DAY He makes it outside of the reception before placing himself on a bench stumbling in shock and confusion. MARK sits there before looking up, he rises to his feet. Adapting his eyes to the sunlight MARK looks right and then left before making his way down the long dusty road that lays in front of him. FADE TO BLACK: INT. LIBRARY. DAY Surrounded by books and enthusiastic readers, MARK is placed down an aisle which is titled History and Religion. Scouring through books MARK glances and shows a sign of excited relief. Grabbing a book off the shelf with full force, MARK starts to flick through the pages. The book falls on a page with the words Names and Meanings, the Js. Scrolling further and further down the list of names beginning with J, MARK places his finger on JOAH. Scrolling to the right he notices the meaning. JOAH, Brother or God is his Brother. Starring for minutes on end at the book he closes it placing it back on the shelf. MARK pauses all kinds of movement before placing himself on the floor with his back against the book shelf. Tilting his head back, MARK gives a warm smile as he sits lonely on the ground. Relaxed and relieved. FADE TO BLACK.