SECRET WINDOW, SECRET GARDEN screenplay by David Koapp based on tha novella by ‘Stephen King Pepevary 22, 2003Le 02/12/2003 uxt PARKING LOT = DARN 2 A guy's tortured fa MORT RAIHRY sits in the driver's seat of his car, knuckles white / on the wheel. Frozen. His face is wet with tears. He wipes bio chests in irritation, puts the car in gear and ataps on the gas, pulling out of the packing lot he's been parked in. We roll with him, still stazing at bis face as he hauls around a corner and out onto the road, into a mid-winter snow storm, just after dawn. Suddenly he CURSES, double-foots the brakes, stops abroptly in the middle of the road, situ there for a moment -~ -- and puts the car in reverse. He backs right back into the parking lot, back to the very spot he was before, where he cones to a stop. He freezes with bis hand on the gear shift -~ <= then puts it in park and climbs out of the car, leaving the nging open, the var BINGING at him about the keys, the you're doing everything wrong. Mort walks across the parking lot -- still doesn't vant to go, still can’t stop. headed for the doors of a strip sotel, the kind where you perk your car in front of your room, a tvelv cabins-twelve-vacancies kiad of place. Be alka straight toward door number 6, the only door with a car parked in front ef it, Two cars, as a matter of fact. Hoe walks right between them, up to the door of the room, and tries the handle softly. Locked, of cours We thinks for a moment, then turns and walks off to the left. We stay where we are, watch as be walks toward the lighted motel office at the end of the row. Mort goes ingide, the door JINGLES, we see throngh the window as he walks bebind the unattended front counter. e'takes something off the vall, turns and walks back out, holding a key, Just as be loaves, we soe 2 MANAGER in a tes shirt come out from the back roam, looking around to ses what happened. Re figures it out and takes off after Mort, but by that tine Mort is alraady back at the door to number 6 again, He slides the key into the lock, turns the hendle and shoves the door opea, harder than he intended to. rut MOTEL ROOM DAW The door BANGS off the cheap drywall, and as the morning Jight apills inte the room vs get a look at the instrument of Mort torture.2. ‘ 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: We can't be sure, of course, but it's a pretty gooe bet it's the BAKED COURLE ep in the tvdsted, love-stained sheets. Well, ‘they were asleep, now they're awake and all hell breaka loo ‘They're horrified, shocked and caught end humiliated. There's so moh noise and jumping around there's no point writing down the dialogue, because ve can’t make out more than & word or two of it anyway. But all the words have beon shouted before verbatim, end by the way Mort is yelling at the Baked Woman and the Baked Man is screaming at Mort to caim don we can tell who got fucked over and who did the fucking. Aad now the Motel Manager arrives and jumps into the atx, SHOUTING and waving just like the others, God what a mess. Zt's eweaty and ugly and painful, so we pull back the vay we cams, out the door of the room, back into the snow-driven parking lot, leaving then to thenselve Another couple walks past the room, the WOMAN slows dovn, straing for a look at the wreck, the GUY pulls her along, are you crazy? The door SLAMS shot in our faces. Into soma rooms you should never look. cur 70: ext ‘TASHMORE LAKE DAY 3 Dark shapes slither under the glassy surface of a mountain leke. We fly over the lake, thinking the shapes are fish, but they're too big, too long and scary and twisted for lake fish. Maybe ‘they're not really thers. Siz Noaths Later We fly toward a house at the edge of the lake, a nice littl cabin somebody built for themselves. Winter's over, it’s beautiful spring day an¢ the windows are opan, 20 we glide through one of then. rst caBix - sToDr par ‘ Inside the house, ve're in a study, the room with the best view, its walls lined with books and bound periodicals. The desk iled high with crap, this guy's not a filer. There's a computer on the desk, some words on the screen, we no: enough to read them. close3 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: Four days after George had confirmed to bis own satisfaction thet his wife was cheating on bim, be confronted ber. “I have to talk to you, Abby,” he said. “I Zhe cursor blinks accusingly at the tail of that unfinished thought, the rest of the screen is blank. There's a beat up old leather chair near the desk and a small dog asleep in it —~ RUMP, a friendly old spaniel with a graying muzsle. We turn, lock through the open door of the study and see into the living room, vhere the unvriter of the unfinished stary is also asleep, on the couch. Mort's put on about siz years in the past six months, and the overlong midday nap he's buried in doesn't help. Yeah, there's dried drcol. A KNOCK on the front door gets no response from Mort but it draws cur attention. Approaching the docr, wa sea a DARK FIGURE move to the window next to the door. The drapes are drawn so ve just & silhouette as the figure tries to peer through the window. ‘Than it moves back to the door. Another knock, louder now. And then, surprisingly, the doorknob turns a few times, stopped by the lock. This guy wants ia. A third knock, really » pounding, is abruptly cut off as Mort Jerks the doof opan, revealing the man on the porch. ext PORCH DaY JOHN SHOOTER locks about forty-five, very thin, a calm face, | elnost ‘ene, but carved with deep lines. He wears « blue vork (+ shirt, buttoned all the way to the ragor-reddened flesh of his neck. Jeans (cuffed), yellow vork shoes. But it's the het that catches your attention. It's a big black one, & xound crown planted squarely on bis head, sort of like the kind Quakers wore. Mort stands there, still waking up, only halfway into the real world. Sheoter speaks first. sHoorER You stole my story. Mort blinks. Buh? SHOOTER (cont'd) You stole my story and something's got to be done about it. Right is right end faiz is fair and something has to be done,a. 02/12/2003 conrinvep: 5 Mort opens hie mouth, finds nothing to say, and closes it agaiz. SHOOTER (cont'd) Well? wort {finally} I {20 voice, clears bis throat} I don't know you. SHOOTER I know that. Thet doesn't matter, 1 know you, Mr. Rainey. Taat's what matters, You stole ay story. He holds out bis hand, and it's got something in it. Kort flinches, but it's only a stack of papar. A manuscript. ORT I don't read manusori~ SROOTER You read this one already. (stating a simple fact) You stole it. vnberving. Mort looks out te his long driveway. Nobody els there. Hobody around at all, just an extra car parked in bis driveway, an old station wagon with cut of state plates. wort (back to Shooter] I oan aasure you~ SHOOTER I know that. I don't mORT {sounding a bit pompous and hating it) Tf you want to talk to someone about sone grievance you fecl you have, you gould call my literary agent in- SHOOTER ‘This is between you and me. Bump the dog limps into the doorway, wagging bic tail enthusiastically.@ e 5 5 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: (2) SHOOTER (cont'd) We don't need any outsiders, Hr. Rainey. It is strictly between you and ae. mORT I don't like being accused of plagiarism, if that’s what you're doing. Bump makep arthritic atteapts to befriend shooter. HORT (cont ’d) Bump, go inside. Bump doos. SHOOTER X don't blame you for not liking it. But you did 4t. You stole my story. mort You'll have te leave. I bave nothing te say to you. SHOOTER Yeah, I'll go. Ne'll talk more later. He holds out tha manuscript. Mort's reflexes make him reach for it, but he pulls his hand back. ‘MORT I'm not taking that. SHOOTER Won't do you any good to play games } with me, Mr. Rainey, This has got to be settled. iH KOR? So far as I'm concerned, it is He steps back inside and closes the door. Isr casino DAY Mort freazes right next to the door ag socn as it's closed. ie bolds his breath and waits for either the knock te come o footsteps to trail away. But he hears neither. Shooter is just standing there. Bump site by the door, staring up et Nort -- are wa going out or steying dn?6 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: Finally, there 4s a sott THUMP, followed by work shoes on porch, then work shoes on gravel. Nort goes to the window and tonches the curtain aside. Through the windev, he sees Shooter crunching across the driveway toward his car. From this engle, Mort can make ont the license plate's state of insue -- Mississippi. Shooter opens the door, yets behind the wheel, tosses bis hat on the seat next to hin. Me starts the cur, puts it in reverse, and backs all the way down the driveway, cat to the road. Mort sighs. That‘s over. But then a worrisome thought crosses his mind. 8 looks back at the door. BxT ROWE PORCH DAT 7 Shooter's manuscript cite on the front porch, a rock resting on ‘of the tite page to keep it from blowing away. The edges ofthe payes fietbes in the ging. Mort stands on the front porch, barefoot, hands in the pockets of his khaki pants, looking down at it. Bard to tell how long he's been standing like this, just staring at the thing. He looks up the driveway, makes sure Shooter really is gone. squats down next to the manuscript, wants to get a closer look bat doesn't want to touch it. He picks up the rock, tosses it inte the bushes. the title page blows off the stack, blown by the breeze, and Mort catches it. He turna dt around and reade it. Re fecret Window, Secret Gardea by John Shooter Mort breathes a little sigh of relief. MORT Maver heard of you, pal. He scoops up the rest of the manuscript -- nit RITCREN pay ~+ and tossas it out in the kitchen trash can. wort Never heard of your story. He washes his hands in the sink, es if to serub it off himself ~~190 1 02/12/2003 mr LIVING ROOK DAY =~ and flops hack down oa the couch. MORT Wow vhore was I... He rolls over and resumes his nap. Bump curls up next to the couch and resumes her nap too. cur BO: Ivf CABIN ~ STUDY DAT 10 Mort stares blankly out the window. He's at bis desk, in front of the computer. ext day, maybe? A clock TICKs above hin, It's 10:26. Somewhere upstairs, a VACUUM CLEANER drones. Out on the lake, tvo motorboate leave wide white wakes behind them, kids grab-sssing, playing chicken. Those TICKS are too damn loud. Mort looks up at the clock. etill 10:26. Ee turns and looks at Bump, who 4s asleep in the leathsr chair next to the desk, apparently her writing spot. MORT Why do x have to do all the work? Bump lifts his head sléepily, locks at Mort. Are we writing? woRT (cont'd) I'm open to ideas, here. Bump puts bis head back down. Mort looks back at the computer screen, Still that same unfinished sentence. “r have to talk to you, Abby," #e said. “I Mort looks back up at the clock. Hey, whaddye know, it's 10:27. mime £24 Upstairs, the vacuum cleaner shuts off. Struck by inspiration, Nort highlights the mini-peragraph he bas written. And deletes it. Now the whole screen is blank. Ye looks back at Bump.10 a. 02/12/2003 10 ConTINUED: HORT (cont‘d} Better, right? Bump sighs. From the other room, Mort hears a series cf loud, clanking THOMPS as souebody drage the vacuum cleaner downstairs, Staring at the blank screea, Hort bobs his head in time to the TEUMPS -- ka-bump, ka-bump, Ka-bump, I'll go insane if I sit bere much longer. mT RITCHEN DAY iL In the kitchea, Kort take a can of Coke out of the fridge and ! knocks it shut with bis hip. Ha notices a stack of papexs on the counter and bends ever, not recognizing it. It's spotted with orange juice and a few coffes grounds, but the title page is still clei Secret Window, Secret Garden by John shooter How'd it do that? He threw dt out. In the background, MRS. \ GAVIN, the cleaning lady, brings the canister vacuum to a crash- \ - landing on the living room floor, visible through the opan door. Mrs, Gavin treats Mert vith the overly Kind, somewhat irritating / concern one gives a victim of a terminal diseass. MRE. GAVIN I found one of your stories in the x. Rainey. — thought you might it, so X put dt on the counter. MORT I see that. Curious, he turss over the title pege and picks up the manuscript. As he reads the first few sentences, we cxuep closer to hie face and hear bis inner voice: WORT (V.0.) (CONT'D) Todd Downey thought that # woman who vould staal your Love when your love was really all you bad was not much of a women. Nort’s brow furrows. His voice reads on. MoRT (¥.0.) (coRr’D) ke therefore decided to kill her. He vould do i in the deep corner formed vhers the house and bern came together at an extreme angle.e G aL 02/12/2003 an cONTTSURD: Mort's face. A look approaching panic cros MORT {V.0.) (CONT'D) He would do it where bis vita kept har garden, the garden abe loved wore then she loved bin. Mort's arm twitches out avay from his, almost involuntarily -- WORT (cont'd) oh shit. ~~ and be slams the manuscript back down on the counter, just to get it awey from him, knocking over his can of Coke in the process. NOR? (cont'd) Ob surE! urs. Gavin comes ic a hurry, surveys the situation, sees that it's just spilled Coke, and grabs & towel. ‘ERS. GAVIE Thank God. from the sound of you t thought you'd cut. your own throetl Let ms get this, that's my job, MORT i'm sorry, I+ He moves out of the way, and the first thing she docs is the manugeript and put it back in his hande. Mort looks down the fucking thing in irritation, can't get away from it. it's stained with Coxe too, MRS. GAVIN I'll take care of this, Mr. Rainey, you go on back to work. Zverybody's waiting for your next opus, ne Anelvdad. HORT I didn't vrite this. RS. GAVIE (moving to the sink) ‘Sousa. oR? it's not mine, MRS. caviw Ob. I thonght it wax.rey 10. 02/12/2003 aw MOR? Wo, it says John Shooter. Right here. Bae? He holds up the title page and she favors it with a polite, slightly confused glance MRS, GAVIN Ab heb. Thought it was one of those whatchacalluns. Pseudonames. Or oyss. xoat T don't use one. I never have. ‘MRS. GAVIB I can't imagine why you would. If I sould write stories like you I wouldn't hide behind some made up name, that's for sure. wort Somebody else wrote this story. ‘MRS. GAVIR Okey dokey then. She bends down to clean up the soda on the floor. Mort looks at the story, still in bis hands. ue's afraid of it. CUT TO: IR STUDY DAY 12 A chair BANGS dovn on the floor of the study, next to the book pasa wall. CLOSE ON the spine of a book on a tup shalf -- “svarybody Drops the Dine,“ the author's last name is Rainey, A hand grabs it. The book THUNKS down on the dask, turns toward us. Full author's sama on the front cover -- Morton Rainey. Plus the vard "Stories." Mort's finger skims the table of contents. About a dozen stories hare. ‘The finger stops at one called “Sowing Season.” Pages riffle by, stop at the first pags of “Sowing Season.” Mort stares dovn at tha page, doesn't bother to sit. Two push- ina now, one toward the page, one tovard Mort's face as be reads it. Again, kis inner vod1z al. 02/12/2003 conrrmusp: 12 WoRT (V.0.) A woman who would steal your love wher your love was all you hed vasn't auch ‘of # woman — thet, at least, was Tommy Havelock 's opizion. (aloud, a balf-whisper) He decided to kil her. Mort saga into the chair, still reading. MORT (contd) Fock xe, (Annex voice again) Be even kney the place he would do it, the exact place: (aloud) the Little pateh of gardex (inner voice) she kept in the extreme angle formed where the house and the barn cane together. The than she loved him. Mort sits forward again, SLAPS Shooter's story down on the desk on his left, the book next to it on his right. He reads, Compares sentences. Pages flip, middle of the story now. Things are moving faster, jumpy. More pages, near the end, Mort's face is sweaty, he's grinding ais teath. Last page, shit, this got worse and worss, he shoves them both avay from him and sits back, breathing hard. He stares for a mament, shocked till -~ and then snepe out of it and starts searching the desk, almost frantic. Doors rip open, are rifled and slammed shut, papers overturned, svept aside. Dig, dig, dig, past junk mail, paper clips, cancalled checks, old Doritos. Finally, lifting up ® thick, heavily marked manuscript, he unearths the mother lode, A aun-faded, nearly flattened old pack of Li's. Mort lets go 4 happy CASP, picks them up and pokes thes open. Three cigarettes are lined up neatly inside, only a little squashed, A natch flares, touches the tip, Mort sucks bard and the tobacco CRACKLES with age.12 02/12/2003 wz a2. COMTINUED: (2) Mort site back in the chair, exhales a cloud around his head. A thought ie right there in the front of Ais brain, te turns and looks at Bump, gives the thought bresth. WORT (cont'd) (a touch defensive! I didn’t steal it. Bump just stares back. MRS. GAVIN (0.8.) Me. Rainey? Mort looks up, startied. mrs. Gavin ia in the doorway, jacket on, purse in hand. Mort darts the cigarette hand down below the desk so she dossn't see. MRS. GAVIN (cont'd) I'm all done, KOR? Okay, thanks. Thanks a lot. See you next tine, He looks back down, hoping sha’ll leave, but she stays there for a moment. She SNIfPS the air lightly, then looks at him vith big ad eye: She SIGHS and be looks back up. URS. GAVIR Mr, Rainey, I just want to say- MORT (no, please don't} MRS. GAVIR Sone ween don’t Know a good thing when ‘thoy got it. Sema voman don't know they got the whole vorld when it's right in front of their nose. There, that's it, not enother word from me. Rould you like wa to make you something te eat? woRT Hope, thanks, I'm good, thank you, that'll do it, sea you next tine, ‘thanks.42 13 16 15 02/12/2003 1a 13. RS. GAVIN You're a good man, Mr, Rainey. ghe sniffs once more, shakes her head sympatheticelly, and Innediately, Mort brings the cigarette back up and takes anothar deep drag. Ke looks down at the tvo stories on his desk. Back ovar at Bump, whe ds atering at him accusingly. rer LIVING Room = DAY as BANG! ‘he door from the study smacks open, Mort staggers into the living room, dizzy from the smoke, sucking the cigarette haze in here with him. He starts for the kitchen, spots the couch =~ =~ and swerves in mid-stride right toward it. He barks bis shin on the coffes table on the way, CUREES under hia breath, strips his bulky wristwatch off his wrist, dumps it on the table and collapses onto the couch, iato it, almost, as if its gravity is three times that of the rest of the planet. It pulls hin right down inte its deepest recesses, his face buries in pillow. Sump harumphs to the floor in frout of the fireplace, alvays game for a nap. Mort catches eyes with hin. HORT Did TP And his eyes roll back into his head as sleap sucks hin in. CUT TO BLACK, IM THE TOTAL BLACK, u wa hear a man valking, scraping his way through herd, rustly stalks of something. ina -~ axe CORN FIELD DAY 15 v- corn field, and the person valking is Hort. He seens lost stong the tall rows of corn, can't find his bearings. He feels something sberp and looks down at bis arm. A line of blood traces through the torn slesve of his shirt, He's puzzled. Wineing, be looks down at bis cther axm, The sharp corn tassles are scraping him, another line of blood seeps through his left sleeve as be looks. He shoves the sleeve op, revesling not just one but @ half a dozen vatches on his wrist, and every one shows a different tine.1s 16 ate 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: 15 Ahead of him, the corn on both sides of the row shakes and rostles. AMY RAINEY, wid-thirties, the fensls half of the naked couple from the opening, steps out from one side. John Shooter atapa ovt from the other. knives. Both of them hold SHOOTER I'm confident I can take care of this business. They walk toward hin. SHOOTER {cont’d) I'm sure that, in time, your death will be a aystery. ax Even to us. Mort turas to run, but a hand, Amy's band, resches cut and grabs him by the belt. ‘ge falls to'the ground, sees only dirt and dark dove here at the bottom of the stalks, but then thore's something bright, brilliant-bright, it's a knife. Shooter hands it to Amy, he grabs Mort's face roughly and forces Mort SCREAMS, the es suddenly as knife flashes across his eyabal: everything went black i¢ suddenly flashes mT LIVING ROOK Ar ~- white and loud, really loud, = bell ringing, like a class bell, om and on and it won't atop. Mort's eyss pop opan wide and be sucks in bis breath and now he's bathed in sweat and panic has no idea where be ia or how much time has passed, Bat the reason for the sweat and the bright ds enough, it's the blinding midday sun, pulverizing bis face through the big living reom windows. The ringing stops. 16 Mort sits up, looks a wreck. The ring again, but this time a regular ring, » telephone. He answers. KORT (nap vodoe) “lo? AMY (0.8.) Hello, mort. Mort freezes, and that visible blanche combined with the woman's voice should tell us it's the ex. Bape eeeaw 18 as 15. 02/22/2003 conmzmozD: 16 AMY (0,5.) (CONT'D) Hello? wort Yeah, AMY (0.8-) Are you all right? vont Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be all right? av wr AMY'S KITCHSH nay Close on Any Reiney's fo00. She's sitting at the table in her Xitechen, a cordless phone pressed to her sar. She's tense, not an enjoyable call for her either. AMY t don't know, I= it's just, you're alone up there, anything could happen and nobody would know. MOR? (0.8.) I'd know. att Right. mr MORT'S LIVING ROOM DAT. 8 An avkvard pause. sort wipes his forebead. Looks at his hand, itvs dripping sweat. He softens hie tone. MORE Tim fine. AMY (0.8.) Bey, what's up vith the roof? pid Greg Cerstairs ever get off his ass and- ORT Why'd you call, Any? rEt AMY'S KITCHER DAY 19 Purther back from her now, seeing the whole Kitchen. It's nice, thie is an expensive house someplace. Amy's on the phone in the skground. In the foreground, a few pictures hang on a wall. Weird apacea in the picture wall, some bave bean taken dova recently and thare hasn't been enough new living yet te fill the spaces.e e ws 20 02/12/2003 6. we CONTIBUED: AMT cat past the bullshit, hub? No answer. She gate up and valke toward us. think they're stupid and you don't believe them but I believe then, and I bad ~~ I was making « sandwich and I got this sensation that you... that you might not be okay. I held off for awhile, I thought it'd go avay, but it didn't, (leans in the deor jam) fo here I an. i nvr MORT'S LIVING ROOM pay 20 moRT I ses. Me picks his watch up off the coffee table and looks at it idly. it's one thirty, MORT (cont’4) Right, Well. I don't know what to tell you, ‘cept I*m fine. ANY (0.3.) And nothing weird happened or anything? Mort flips the watch over ia his hand, locks at the back sid an engraving there -- “I Zove You, any.” Well, something weird did happen, but she’s kinda the last person he vants to tel) about it. still... kort De you remember “Sowing Season?” AMY {0.8.} Bob? woRT My story. The one where tha guy- AMY 10.8.) I remember, Wot one of my favorites. wORD Goed to know,e S 2/12/2003 i 20 20 CownzuUED: aur (0.8.) . Well, it vas kinda hostile, ¢on‘t you think? wort You koov, I so miss your constructive eriticisn. AME (9.5-) {this is beaded south) What about the atory? HORT Do you renenber me writing it? I mean, de you think it's possible that 7 « influenced by anybody, or we anytedag, dn partioular while I was doing it? au INT AMY'S HOUSE bar 2b Even further back, dova a long hall with ample roons on either side. This ie « nice house, Any's still coming tovard us. AMY Other than Maker's Mark? WORT (0.8.) Yeah, I know, that's why I can't remember, I vas still drinking then. ar (glances at a clock on the fenne 200, You got weird on that one, wrote dt mostly at aigat, I think. You'd thrash around and then get ap and work on it till breakfaet. Bhe reaches « window at the front of the house, bands down locks outside, . i sedate a ast (cont'd) What do you mean “influenced?~ 2200 Ne MORT'S LIVING ROOK DAE 22 MOR? I don't know, AME (0.8.) Like by ancthar story?18. 02/32/2003 22 CONTINUED: 22 € xORT Forget it. 23° mut) AMY'S HOUSE =o DAT 23 doy can tell something's up. ar did it happen more than cuce? (gravely) Mert. MORE (0.5.) 1 don't know. (quickly) wo, it did't. sever mind, forget it. 24 INT MORT"S LIVING ROOH par 24 Mort hesitates, sonething else on his mind. mont {don't ask this, don’t do it, ‘don't de it) How's Tad? AME (0. Me's fine. oR Me and him should have « drink some time, we've bean to a lot of the saue places, fing. Psuse. aur (0.8.) What vas that for, me saying I dida‘t Like your story? “ MoRt I gotta go. a So do 1. But nobody bangs up. Mort chews bis lip, doesn't want to ask vouething, can't belp it. woRT He's there, isn't he. e- erie Yo. We're not together.24 25 26 27 02/12/2003 1. COMPINUED: cn Hope crosses Mort's face and gives the game avay -- be still wants her back. MORT You're not? AMY (0,5.) Uh uh. yor? I see. {pause, trying to keep the elation out of his voice) Well, I'd be lying if x seid T vas sorry to hear that. INT AMY'S HOUSE = DAY. as Amy looks confused for a moment, then realizes the conclusion Mort has dravn and winces. ar Ro, Mort, what I meant was... I meant ve're not together at the mamant. He's coming over later. INT caBTN DAT. 26 ” mort blinks. Feels like an asshole, which makes bin angry again. AMY (0.8.) (asfensive) Be hardly ever comes here. I go to his place. MORT Coot. Thanks for sharing, AMY (0.5.) Well, don't ask then. It was working just fine that way. Ser 0 AMY'S HOUSE DAT 7 on the sidewelx now, in front of Amy's house, & beautiful old Vietorian in Rivardale. She's visible in ac upstairs window, checking outside again. The conversation continues as e purply BMW pulls up into the foreground.27 28 29 30 20, 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: 27 MORT (0.8.) ‘You should have bim over mora. It's « nice house. I like it. I love it, that's why Z bought it. Aman gets out of the car. TED, the male half of the naked =~ couple, gats out and heads toward the house, waving to the upstairs window. mt AMY'S HOUSE - UPSTAIRS HALL pay 28 Any turns avay from the window abruptly. ay Gecdbye, mort. Int MORT'S LIVING ROOM = DAT 29 Mozt hangs up hard vithout ‘ancther word. He grabs at the air in intense frustration, vhy did I do that, why did I fuck it up like thet, vhat is the matter with me. wORT Puck fucking stupid stupid... He grabs a walking stick that’s propped in a corner. snatches 6 heavy shirt off a hook. And the front door SLAMS behind him. Ia front of the fireplace, Bump 1ifte hia head, mildly indignant. You can't go for a walk without me. cor To: =x PATH BY THE LAKE AY 30 A rock skips two, three, four times across the smooth surface of the lake. Mort strides along the lake path, trying to walk off ‘the phono call. He zeaches a place where the lakeside path forks, He takes the zight-hand branch climbing a steep bank back up to the road. As he reaches the top, the sun comes out from behind a cloud and his ovn long shadow appears in front of him, leading bin forward, pointing the way -- -- toward tha pair of dusty yellow work shoes at the top of the Bill. John Shooter leans againat bis old Ford station wagon, exms folded across his chest, waiting, as if be knew all along Mert would arrive at this spot, at this tine. Mort doesn't allow himseli to stop, but can't help a little bitch in his stride, He stops about six feet short of Shooter, opens his mouth to speak, but the other man speaks first.21. 02/12/2603 30 SHOOTER | You read it? Mort stares et him. Hix fingers tighten on the walking stick. ont I ata, SHOOTER 2 dmagdne it rang 9 bell, didn't it? ORT Xt certainly aid. When did you write at? SHOOTER I thought you'd ask that. MORT Well, suse. That's the whole point, isn't it? When tuo writers show up with the sane story, it's all about who wrote the words fizet, Wouldn't you say that's true? SHOOTER I suppose I vould. I suppose that's woy T came ali the vay up here. from Missinsipps. a Scout, Mort turns, waves to the driver, ToH GREENLEAF, an alderly men in a flannel shirt. Tom waves back. Shooter 3 a hand slightly, tips a finger in Tom's direction in ® practiced, country sort ef vay. Then turns calmly back to Mort. A car approach SHOOTER (cont'd) ‘Bow what were ve saying? MORT We wore trying to establish provenance That SHOOTER I know what it moans, = know I'm Wearing shitkickar clothes and driving : @ shitkicker car and I come froma long | lina of shitkickers and maybe that i makes ue a sbitkicker ayseif, but it doesn’t necessarily make me a stupid anitkick% 22. 02/12/2003 30 © CONTINUED: (2) 30 Mort Let's cut past the bullahit, okay? When did you write the story, Mr. Shooter? SHOOTER Maybe ay name's not Shooter. Maybe that's just ¢ peo name. Mor? Well, what's your real one? SHOOTER I didnt say it wasn't; I only maybe. Either vay, that's not pert of our business. He stops, aquints up at a cloud, watches it move past the sun. Mort follows bis gaze, then turns and shakes his head -- vhy am I even talking to this guy? SHOOTER (cont'd) Seven years ago, 1995. Mort suppresses tha surge of victory that runs through hin. non Why'd you wait so leng? My book of short stories was published in ‘96, that's six years SHOOTER Because I didn't know, Didn't run across it till I vas on a bus trip to Jackson six months ago. Salling my dairy farm to a fella up there ovns a lot of dairy farms in Miss'ippi. Been thinking with a little mare monay, I gould write days, when ny mind's fresh, dastead of just after dark. Picked your book off one of them wire racks in the Rexall, just grabbed the first book uy hand bappaned on. read the fest half a dozen stories the way 0] didn't think they were any great ahakes, but they passed the tine, MORT Thank you.@. 23. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: (3) 30 SHOOTER (studies him for a second) wasn't offering you sny real compliment. eS Yeah, I got that. SHOOTER (shrugs) Anyway, I read two more going back and then that one. My story. How'd you get it? That's what I really want te know, How in hell did a big-money scribbling asshole like you get down to a little shitaplat town in Mississippi and steal ay goddam story? I'd like to know way, too, unless you stole al) the other ones as vell, but the hov of it'll be enough te satisfy me right now. yor? (rinsed off) prop it. SHOOTER Drop it? Drop if? What in hell do you mean, drop it? noRT You said you wrote your story in 1995. mine in late "92. It vas published for the first time dn June of 1993, in a magazine. Mice try, but I beat you by two years, Mr. Shooter, or whatever your name is. If enybody's got a bitch about plagiarism, it's me. Sheeter moves fast, grabs hold of Mort's upper arms, hard, his thumbs really digging in. Be spins him eround, SLAMS bin against the cer and leans into his face, forehead to forehead. SHOOTER You lie. KORE The fuck T do. Mot one to be pushed around, Mort lunges forward against Shooter, sending him stumbling two or three steps backvard. Shooter tenses, about to rush forward, then forcibly stops himself, just atands thera, veins bulging with fury.2b. 02/12/2003 (4) 30 SHOOTER Prove it. HORT I don't have to prove a thing to pou, ge look fer yourself. Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, June, 1993. SHOOTER And how am I supposed te find that? HORT Hell, I'11 give you one. It's at xy, ub my wife's house in town. I've got averything I wrote down the: SHOOTER “Your wife's house?" What the hell does that moan? ‘ORT What do you think, you fucking cracker? T'm in the middle of a divorce. Shooter contemplates strangling Mort to death. SHOOTER We keep on this vay we're gonna have 4 fight. ORT {not fearful, just direct) X don't want that. SHOOTER Part of you does, Part of you wants just that, Yeu strike me aa the kinda gay who's on tha ‘lookout for « bead be can knock off with a shovel. But what you don't onderstand is that if we do start to fight, it's not gonna end until one or the other of us is dead. HORT (lew and even} have had a bed fucking six months, pal. Really... cry me. SHOOTER {studies bin} . This other house, The one your wife 0? has now. It's downs. 38. 02/12/2003 30 30 © COWTINUED: (5) ec sexs None of your business. SHOOTER Means yes. Sho's there now? ) I'll give you three days. Mor? ‘That's very generous of you. SHOOTER Don't you make light of me, soa, I'm ‘trying my best to hold my terper, end doing a pretty good job of it, but -- ex and reaches through the open window of his car. and takes a step back. e@ 7 MORT ct What are you doing? SHOOTER Just gettin’ m'smokes. Hold your water. zed package of Pall malls in He pulls hip arm out of his car, his hand. He shakes one out, offers another to Nort. mor? I don't smoke. ‘SHOOTER (Lights ap) You call your ex and get you the magazine with your story in it, if there is such a magazine. And ‘11 be back. MORT I don’t want to call her. SHOOTER ‘course you don't, ‘Thexe isn't any magazine, is why; I think we both know that.ec 30 26. 02/12/2003. 30 CONTINUED: (5) Shooter goes moRE If X show it to you, you'll go back to wherever the bell you came from and leave me alone? I mean, is this even worth it or am I wasting my time? to the door of his car and opens it. SHOOTER Right is right and fair is fair. The first thing is to get you to « place whare you see I have really got you, and you can't wiggle out of this ness the way you've probably been wiggling out of the messes you've made ali your Life. That's the first thing. He gets in the car and slams the door. He hits the ¥ SHOOTER {cont’d) ‘The second thing is the real reason come. MOR? Uh buh. And what's that? SHOOTER We'll get to it. Meantime you think about what's right and what's fair and how things oughta end. MORT Okay. (pause) You realize you're insane, right? SHOOTER You didn't think‘ anybody'd evar cath you out, did your and pulls away, leaving Mort standing alone by the edge of the road, enveloped in swirling dirt and dust. wort (shouts after him) Alvays a pleasure to meet a reader! cor to: ime CABIN ~ KITCEER DAT 32 Zanch. % bowl cf soup and can of peanuts. Untouched.3L 32 27, 02/12/2003 ‘CONTINUED: a2 Mort's sitting at the kitchen table, ams folded on it, staring down inte the chicken noodle, unmoving, Bump the dog sits next to the table, looking at Mort, then at Mort's food, then a Mort, then at Mort's food, You done with that? Finally, Mort turns, locks across the room, At the telephone. He stares at that for a while, then looks back into his soup. Nor (Like a kid) I don’t wanna call her. Ha looks up at the clock over the sink. 4:12. He turns, looka through the opan door to the living room. ae sees the couch. Gazes longingly at the couch, mora like. He turns and locks at Bump, who's staring up at him expectantly, Mort looks back at the phone. ‘Then back at Bump. Bump stands up -- we doing sonathing? MORT (contd) {to Bump) Mo, no nap. I give her a call about the magazine, ‘hen I write some nore crap fer a couple houre, then T get to take a nap. Right? Bomp TURKS and limps toward the door. Obviously not getting any food from this joker. MORT (cont'd) Sexiously, Bump, let's gat te work. Bump reaches the kitchen door and pushes through a doggie door at the bottom, headed outside. MORT (cont'd) Mo wonder you're not published, rer LIVING ROOM = DAY 32 In the living room, a phone BANGS down on the coffee table. Mort sits on the couch, stardag at it. Looks to his left, to the pillow, which still holds the indentation where his head rested during his last nap. He looks back at the phona and CLAPS his hands togather purposefully. Mort Right.32 33 34 28. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: 32 He reaches for the phone -- -+ and unplugs the cord. He lies back on the couch, settles the pillowe in thedr famiisar positions, gets them exactly right, one light punch in the center for the dent ~~ == and he lets his heed tall slowly outo dt as darkness creeps in around the corners of the screen, washing the vicle thing -- BLACK. Int ‘CABIN - LIVING ROOM ‘NIGHT 33 Mighttime in the cabin. Mort's eyes are still closed and his head is drifting, rolling, lolling off the couch, but as he and bin body reach the edge, there's nothing underneath, no floor, just a sheer dropoff that gives way to 8 rocky path a hundred feet below. He loses his balance on the edge of the couch asd falls, SCREAMING -- -- to the floor. Wice way to wake up. He sits up, looks around, orienting himself, Night fell while he was asloop and be's in a darkened house. He climbs back onto the couch, turns on a light. Squints at bis watch. 10:26. He's slept for six hours. Mort Shit. He site back on the couch, rolla his head. He's horribly stiff, He notices the phone in front of him, remembers the call he's been avoiding. HORT {cont ‘d) Tenned rested and ready. Me picks up the receiver, is somentarily puzzled by the lack of dial tone, then reuenbars he pulled the cord. He gats up and goss to pick it up, then freezes. Prom this angls, he can see out the frost window, to the porch. He's looking st the garbage cabinet, end there's something on dt, To somethings, actually, a white something and a dark something. Seill not plugging the phone in, he gets up end heads for the oar. uxt PORCH RIGHT 34 The porch light comes on. Mort walks ont the front deor and stops dead in his tracks, staring straight ahead.3 23. 02/12/2003 cownruvED: 34 ‘The white sonething pinned to the garbaga cabinet is an 81/2 by 11 sheet of typing papez. A few words are printed on it in big, bold, easy to read strokes: 300 FAVE THREE DATS. ‘I AM NOP JOKING. ‘BO POLICE, Mort's eyes move slightly to the left, to the other something. whe other something is Bump. Mort's dog is pinned to the deer of the garbage cabinet vith a screvdriver, Dead. HORT Oh God! Oh Jesus! He whirls around suddenly, adrenaline pouring into his Dlocdatresa. He SHOUTS into the darkness. WORT (cont‘d) WHERE ARE TOU?! His head svivels, he looks six directions all at once. WORT [oont‘a) GET OUT EERE, YOU SON OF A BITCH! SHOW YOUR FACE, YOU FUCKING COWARD! Mo response. Mort stands there, hands curled into fists, ready for a fight, but the only one willing to engage him is a dog that BARKS in the distance. He turns and looks back at Bump. He's alone, all alone, aot even a pat anymore, MORT (cont'd) Oh po... oh Bump... He approaches the garbage cabinet, his stomsch rolling over on him, “Cold swaat breaks out on his forehead as ha gota closer. Bump's haad ia cocked far to the left. Her testh aro bared and her tongue's hanging out, There's a little bleed around the binds of the seseudriver at the point vhere it was driven into her ruff. MORT (cont'd) Oh God, Bump... I'm so sorry you... Oh, Sump. Mort crumples up the sheet of paper, stuffs it in his back Pocket, then pute bis hand on Bump'a chei The body shifts slightly, still hanging on the screwdriver. Mort grimac thinks he might peuk, but needs to finish this.34 3s 36 a0. 02/12/2003 cowniNusD: (2) 34 We Closes bis other hand around the screwdriver’s chipped red handle and pulls it fre He tosses tha scraviriver aside and flips opes the doors of the garbage cabinat. Ho tosses the lid off one of the trash cans and gently places Bump's body inside, tears rolling down his cheeks. He whisper: MORT (cont ‘d) I'LL bury you in the morning, girl. He gently replacas the garbage can lid, closes the door, and terns around, pearing out into the night, He's out there somewhere in the dark. WORT {comt’d) I'LL get you for this. (ahouting at the top of his longs) I'LL PUCKING GET YOU FOR THIS! INT CABIN = -HIGET a5 CLICK! ‘The front door locks, deadbolt turns. SLAM Mort closes the bedroom window, turns the look on top of dt. Anothar CLICK, two of ‘em, this tine the back door, both locks, and for good measure Mort slides a chair up under the knob. Two more windows, the roof access panel, and the house is secure Mort stands in the middle of the living room, breathing hard. What was once a refuge doasn't seem #0 anymore, ‘ cor ro: EXT RRCK YARD DAWN 36 Mort is silhoustted against the dewa, digging in the dirt patch behind the house, the one where its old and new sections come together in an 1. He shovels earth back into a suell grave, He finishes, tanps it down, and looks out at the lake, into the fiery sun. Ha‘s sweaty and angry, but calm, He locks dowa at the shovel in ais hands, hefte it.36 37 Bt. 02/12/2003 commINUED: 36 Shooter was right, Mort wculd clock somabody with a shovel if be got the chance, and that somebody is John Shooter. cur por Isr SHERIFF'S OFFICE DAY 37 A large badge, painted on a storefront window in town. Underneath the badgs the words TASHMORE LAKE SHERIFF'S OFFICE, bat we'ra inside the office, so the letters are backvarde to us. DAVE NEWSOME (0.8-) Bump?! He killed Bump? Mort sits across the desk fron DAVE NEWSOME, seventy cr 0, wearing jeans and a sherif!'s shirt. Dave works on his needlepoint while he talks HORT Last night, maybe around aine, I was asleep. He left this. He slides the note across the desk, the warning that was stuck to the cabinet next to Bump. Dave leans over and reads it, still dodng his needlepoint. He shakes his heed and SxS. DAVE WEWSCKE “No police.” Anytime somebody goes and writes “no police" that's just about fee the time a fella needs to get hinself over to the police. wORT That's what I figured, I've got « detailed description of him, his car... I dida‘t gat the license plate number, but it's from Mississippi. He slidas another piece of paper across the dask to Newsoma, who doasn’t notice, what with the needlepoint and all. DAVE NEWSOME Got a sister-in-lay in Mississippi. wort Anything you cen find out about this guy, I'd sure appreciate it, DAVE NEWSOME My brother's widow. wont See if be bes a violent history, let me kaow what I'm dealing with here. (MORE)ec 37 38 aa. 02/12/2003 COmTIRUED: a7 Mor? (cont ‘d) Of course, if you could find bim and talk to him, that's even batter. {sliding it closer) Here’s that descrip- DAVE NEWSOME So you got yourself member of the Crazy Folks tribe. MORT (shrugs) They pep up once in a while. Price of ling a few books. Anyvay, here's at description, Killing a dog ie ef course. Not sure if it’ crime, come to think. MOR? Of course it is! What about animal aruelty? Or at least destruction of private property. Mewsone stops his needlepoint and robs his hands in pain, DAVE REWSOME Reedlepoint. Can you believe it? Doc says it's good for the arthritis. 1 must cut quite an intimidating law enforcement figure, huh? xoRT Yeah. Mort leoks at him and -- cum to: arr NEW YoRx CITY DAY 38 + there's an unexpected cut, to the skyline of Manhatten. The camara zips over to a deak, ve're in an office. KEN KZLSCH sits behind the desk, big beefy guy, tattoos under 4 Brocks Brothers shirt, formar HYPD twenty years and a couple million later. Brawn and business together. RELSCH Did you steal it?33. 02/12/2003 38 comrrmuED: 38 e Cc Mort is sitting across from him. woRT What? wo! RascH Kind of an auasing coincidence, don't you think? The stories being ro mach alike, MOR? Well, obviously, the guy copied it trom me, Whose side ere you on? RELSCT Yours, gut x still need to know the truth, Which Kind of situation do this, 48 ha a regular wacko like you've had before, in which case I can help, oz is this something you should be talking to your lawyer about? Mort ignores the slight blush that rises in his cheeks, looks Ken in the ey nonT r ) This guy ie just crazy, Ken. That's all dt i Xen looks at him for a long moment, deciding whether or not to : believe hin. KELSCH ‘Okay. What do you want me to do? NOR Help. You handled that other lunatic. Made him go away. Kelsch talks fast and squeezes a stress ball, the polar opposite of Dave Newsome. XRLECE He wasn't this crazy, That guy wa just an obsessed reader who couldn't tell rsal life from the crap you make up for a living. Wo offense. He didn't have @ beef like this one. when Somebody thinks they've got a legitimate grievance it ups the stakes € about a hundred times. This guy Sheoter, did he threaten your life?ec we 02/12/2003 3B CONTINUED: (2) wort Bot in so wany words. KELSCE Well, be did break a lew with the dog, put it doesn't seem to be « very important lav in Tashnore Lake. Your Sheriff Zayseed wast be « cat person. wORT Call me paranoid, but I don't exactly feel safe with an arthritic seventy year old locel sheritf vatching ny back. Will you help ms out, Kan? ELSCH (checking his schedule book) Uh... I'm on a traile-the-tail right now but T think she's onto me, I vas gonna hand it off anyway. Christ, I haven't slept in a week. Z got a corporate loyalty thing 1 getta be back for on Friday, bot ¥ could give you «couple v8. 2 a note pad around and taps a discrest time clock on his Tick tick tick, dollar deilar dollar. He picks up the description Mort has vritter out and bagins to atudy it. HORT My story came out ine magazine a couple years before he wrote hie. I've got @ copy of the eriginal magazine at day's house, I's going to stop by and get it on the way back upstate. RELsee "Any's house?" * Mozt looks away. Damn, another parson I haven't told yat. HORT We split up about six months ago. KBLSCH Shit. I'm sozry. MORE go am I. matscn Anicabie?35. 02/12/2003 3% CONMTNDED: (3) a8 @ woRT Mot at first. Better lately. KELSCE what happened? You finally nail one of your groupies at soma book signing? i’ plotoring the Oasha Barnes and Noble. Mort just stares at bim levelly. Unamused. ELSCH {cont'd} hat was a dick thing to say, Rotten profession, sakes you into an insenaitive prick, I apologize. You vere saying? xoRT It's just proof Shooter wants, s0, fine, I'Ll gat the magazine and shove dt in his face if thet‘1i get him to leave me alone. Maybe you could come with me when I show it to hin, ‘KELSCE Wo shit I'm coming with you. And if t go much a6 don't like the vay he breather, I got a .38 caliber dick 111 bury in his for the first time in a while, Mort smiles. Feals in good hands. RELSCH (cont'd) You remember my rate? MOR? (getting up to leave) An obscena fortune, right? ELSE Yeah, plus 4 little for inflation. You'll see a black Lincoln in the driveway tonight when you get hone. Don't freak out, it's me, xXeeping an eys on things. ‘Get a good night's wleep, you don't look so hot. At the door, Mort turns back, HORT Cc Ken. That other gay, a couple years e ago. How'd you scare bin, off?oC 38 33 40 aL 36. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: (4) 38 KELSCE {doasn't look up} You don't wanna know. MORT Come on, I might ut time. it dn a book same RELSCH (laughs, still doesa‘t look sp) You don't wanna know. wort o, really. : Kelsch finally looks up. He's not laugbing any more, KELScH : You don't want te know. cur To: Int MORT'S CAR Dusk a9 Mort drives up the West Side Highway a8 the sun sets over the Hudson. He sees the exit for Riverdale, just north of the city. He takes a deep breath. Flexes his hands on the wheel as he steers the car off the highway. =x? RIVERDALE STREET Dusk 40 ‘he sky is darkening oa a street in suburban Riverdale, any's neighborhocd. Mort's cax turns a corner and heads toward us. mer ‘MORT'S CAR Dusk a lights. he car creape to & But Mort doesn't get Mort reaches out and flicks on t! halt across the street from Amy's hou! out. Ba sits there, staring. Changing to his point of view, ve see what he's staring at -- « purple BMW, parked in front of his house. Her house, Mort stares at the car. Looks up to the house, sees a couple ights on. One is downstairs, might be the living zoom, The other is upstairs. Could be the bedroom. A shadow passes behind the window shade in the bedroom. Then another shadow. There's tvo people up there. Mort stares. ‘The light in the bedroom window flicks out.ec 41 42 02/12/2003 an 37. cowrinceD: Downstairs, one of the lights in the front of the house flick: off. Somebody opans the front door «= it‘s Ted, ready to leave. He turns, calle back to Any. Mort puts his hand on the gear shift, to get out of there. then he changes his mind, reaches out and flicks off the headlights instead. Munkers down « bit in the seat. Now the other light in the frout of the house flicks off and Amy comes out with Ted. She's carrying a light bag over one shoulder. Mozt watches as Ted opsna the passenger door for Any and she gets into his car. Ted coma around to the other side, gets behind the wheel of his purple BMW, and drives avay with Kort's wite. Mort lets his head fall forward till it BANGS softly off the steering wh Bat cor fo: Ext caBIN ‘RIGHT 42 SLAM! Mort parks in the driveway back at hia cabin and climbs ont of the car. It's black-dark, but there's enough of « moon that be Ren Kelsch's Town Car parked in his driveway, juat as be said it would be. Mort valks over to it, feet CRUNCHING on the gravel. As he dravs close, hs aess Kelsch's outline in the driver's . He's upright, but not moving. In fact, he’s slumped against the driver's side window. thinking vhat we're thinking Mort misses a step; be He walks closer. Kelsch's head is listing at an odd angle. Mort raises a hand to knock on the visdow, he reaches out slowly, doesn’t really vant to know the result, Xelsch is either going to tura and look up at him or he's not, and if he doesn't, the Shooter problem is a lot bigger than be thought. His hand drave closer to the window, closer, it's an inch away -- n+ and Kelsch sits bolt upright and whips hie head toward wort, caught in a catrap. xoRT KeLscy oesus! cHRIBT! They both recoil and laugh too herd, breathe deeply as they get over it.3B. 02/12/2003 a 42 CONTINUED: ec oss Scared the shit out of ue... Kelsch gets out of the car, stretches. A little embarrassed. KELSCE Sorry about that. This week musta finally caught up with ms. MoRT This is very reassuring, xELSCH Relax, Hemingway ~~ {checks his watch} -- Iwas out ten minutes, swear to God. I already cheoked the place, everything's fine. Just waiting for you te gat back to let you know. KORT You sticking around tonight? FELSCE Rot unless you want me te. Mort looks over at the house. Looks. awfully dark and spooky from here, He looks back at Ken. wort : {reductant) I'm sure it’s fine RELSCH Let's take one nore lock. MORT 3f you insist, « 430 mr casIE RIGHT 43 Mort stands in the middle of the living rocs, looking around. Tha front door hangs epen, all the lights are on in the plac: Ken's VOICE comes from upstairs, a loft-like area that takes up half the house ERLSCH [0.8-) Wo monsters up here! He comes out of a heliway and starts down the stairs.43 ‘CONINUEDs 38, 02/12/2003 43 Mon? ‘ fon of binselt) pid you cheek under my bed? KELSCE ven in your toy chest. 1°12 be back 4n the morning, start asking around in town. Find out who else sav your nutjeb. We reaches the bottom, takes his jacket off the banister. MOR? Yom Greenleaf. xeLseH wah? HORT Start by asking Tom Greenleaf, he lives im town. 1 was talking to Shooter yesterday on Leke Drive, about half a mile north of my placa, Tom came by in hie Scout. He vaved at us when be vent by, and both of us waved back. Tom magt have gotten @ good look at him, RELSCH tom Greenleaf. How do I get a hold of him? mont brop by Bovie's Store around nine, that's when he gets his coffee. ELSCH (beading for the doer) Get it. Don't worry. Once I find out where this Shooter's staying, I'l) stop in for a little freak-xe-cut chat, Use the word "we" a lot. "We know what you'ra doing." “We want it to stop.~ “we're watching you." Hendy thing about a schizophrenic, it's not hard to convince ‘ex there's 4 conspiracy. woRT Makes you think he's a achizophrenio? RELGCH 1 he ain't what you call nezmal. Trust ma, he'll bit the road ao hard 4t‘ll it back.44 as a 4s a9 40. 02/12/2003 ext DRIVEWAY areca a Kelsch gets back in bis car and SLAMS the door. Int caBIH aIGHT 43 the front door and hangs his car keys on a hook, old Mort olos habit. Tosses his jacket over 5 chair, Alone how, he turns end looks into the cabin. : He walks furthér dato the living room, under its cathedral ceiling, toward the vindov-wall facing the lake. He can't see anything in the window sxcept himself, the light fron the lamp makes it a mirror. He looks at himsalf for a moment, sees how scared he looks. e the reflection of the second floor ~~ + and sees movament up there. Or was it a bat flying past the window outside? Mort spins around and looks up to the loft. EX? DRIVEWAY «= NIGHT 46 Kelsch's engine ROARS to life, his headlights flick on. Fed cRBIN IGT Hort, standing in the middle of the living room, licks his lips, bis mouth gone dry. Be's staring up at the loft. Because of its whade, the lamp down here throws most of its light upwards, the vertical bars in the railing upstairs throw exaggerated shadows on the wall and ceiling, they lock like bars of a jail cell. a7 Mort apeaks; it comes out in a soft croak. woRt Hello? ar DRIVEWAY Niger “ ‘Tires spin on gravel as Xelsch turns his car around and heads down the driveway, or casIN Nice “9 Bort ia still staring up at the loft. KoR? Is somebody up there?al. 02/12/2003 49 CONTIWURD: aa @ = Fo zeaponse -- except for a soft SCRATCHING sound from up there, Mort turns quickly, wees Ken's hesdlights flesh past his front windows and disappear up the driveway. Xen's gona. Mort's alone. KoRT (cont'd) (soft2y) shit. Be thinks -- am 1 boing ridiculous? Maybe, but why take chances? He walks softly over to the fireplace, not sure vhy he's tiptosing, but moving stealthily. le reaches out and gently lifts the ash-shovel from a rack of fireplace tools, considers it, then puts 4t down and takes the poker instead, Xe turns tovard the upstairs, brandishing the poker, bet uncomfortable with it. He walks to the stain And begins to climb them. Slowly. Deliberately. He reaches the second floor landing and pauses, his heart pamping in his chest, trying to breathe silently. The door to the guest room is on his left, The door to the bathroca is on ade right. Both doors are ajar. Mort stands stock still, poker held aloft, sweat running ovt of nie hair and down Bis cheeks, attempting to work up the nerve to open one of those doors, but which one, which one has the pris oF does aithsr one, and he's just about to go back downstairs w+ vhen he hears it again, Louder this time, A definite SCRATCHING scund from the upstairs bathroom, ads eyes wid He turns his head ever so slightly toward it, ‘takes about ten seconds to turn six inches. The SCRATCHING comes again... ‘then silence. MORT (cont ‘d} (suddenly quite loud) I know you're in there, Puckhead! Mo answer. Mort wipes sweat off the back of his neok with his free hand, He takes @ step forward, Yrom his sew angle, be can just see through the open bathroom door -~ <+ and he see Shooter.or it e 49 a2, 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Okey, it's impossible to say whether it's Shooter or not, but there ilhowette in there, there's somebody in there, and who the hall else would it be? The figure im in the bathroom, just past the sink, pressed into the fur cornar, and be too is holding a weapon aloft, something long ; and hard in his hand, just waiting to clock Mort over the head i with it. But Mort has an advantage, Shooter apparently hasn't seen ni Well, he sees a figurt wont (cont'd) You picked the wrong writer to fuck with! I've been wanting to kill somebody since last March and you'll do as vell as anybody! No answex, Wo movement. Nort looks to the other door, through which # double bed is visible. Clearly a bedroom. Ha looks again to the bathroom door, sees Shooter still hiding in there, nearly the sane position. Mort thinks. Speaks calmly, but the shake in his voice betrays MOR? (cont'd) I know you're in the bedroom! He takes a step tovard the bedroom door, but his ayas are darting like crazy to the bathroom. MoRT (cont'd) I'm counting to fivel If you're not out of the bedroom by the time I get there, I'm coming in swinging! You bear ma? He takes ancther step toward the bedroom, now presenting his back to the bathroom docr aad nervous as heli about it. But the man has a plan. HORT (cont'd) one! Sweating profusely, he takes ancther step to the bedroom door, pow tully in front of it, bis back completely exposed to the half-open bathroom door. MORT (cont‘a) ‘two! Me closes his fingers lightly arcund the bedroom doorknob,49 50 a3. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: (3) 4a Mort (cont'd) thr He lets go of the bedroom door and suddenly launches binselt backwards, SLAMMING into the bathroom door with everything he's got. IM THE BATHROOM, the door SLAMS into the wall hard encugh to chop through the wallpaper and pop the door's lover hinge. Wort plows inside fast, straight toward shooter, poker held aloft, ROARING with Frage, and Shooter's coming right back at him, also with a raised weapon, eyes wide and insane, utterly insane, hia teeth bared in a killer's grin. Mort brings the poker down in a whistling overhand blow and ba just enough tine to wince as he realizes that Shooter is also inging @ poker, and te realize it isn't Shooter swinging at sil but it's him, It's just his reflection. Too late to stop, he SHASBES the poker into the bathroom mirror. The silver-backed glass sprays every which-vay, tvinkling in the gloom, and the medicine cebinet falls into the sink, tte’ bent door swung open like a gaping mouth, spilling bottles of cough syrup and dodine and Lysterine. Mort reaches out and flicks on the light, surveys the damage, chest heaving. Ke laughs suddenly. MORT I killed a fucking mirror. bout to toss the poker aside when he heare that SCRATCHING sound again and something moves in the tub behind hin. He whirls around and slashes sideways with the poker, tearing a jagged gash through the corrugated plastic shower door and knocking it off ite tracks. He raises the poker over his shoulder, steps forvard, and peers into the shower. A tieldmouse sourrit to claw its way up mort locks at the poker in his hand, He's gripped it eo hard there are traces of blocd where his fingernails dug into his pala. 50 frantically in the tub, desperately trying 9 smooth poredlain sid30 SL 52 53 sa 44, 02/12/2003 COMTINUED: 50 We reaches out with bis other hand, pries his own fingers off the handle, and tosses the poker aside with a CLANG. Re takes a hand towel from the rack, bends over the tub, and in one quick gesture scoops the mouse into it, pinching the towel togethar at the top. Be turns and valks out of the bathroom, past the leaning deor with its popped binge, his shoes gritting on broken mirror glass. INTs CABIN ~ LIVING ROOM sIGET 51 Showing mere purpose than we've seon in a while, Mort comes downstairs and heada directly to the little study in the back of the house. IND CABIN - STUDY wget 62 Mort BANGS on a light and searches the desk with one hand, the other still holding the towel with the SQUEAKING mouse inside at, Mort finds what he waz looking for ~~ the ancient pack of Lim's, now down to just two half-flattenad cigarettes, INT CABIN = LIVING ROOM RIGRE 53 Mort scoops up a box of fireplace matches from the hearth and heads for the back door. ExT CABIN - LAKE SIDE = WIGHT 54 Mort comes out the back door of the cabin and stares out at the wine-dark lake, glinting under a half moon. He bends down and opens the tovel, Letting the mouse scurry off into the safety of the darkne: Mort stands up, shoves the Lem between bis lips, raises a matoh to the scratchy side of ths bex end gives it a long SCEAPE ~~ Joba Shooter (really this tine), standing o> which illumiaat right beside him, SHOOTER Thought you didn‘t snoke. Mizeculously, Mort manages to hold the scraam of sheer terror inside his throat, the only physical evidence of bis shook is the hesitation in his match hand, whieh quivers a faw inchei trom the end of bis unlit cigarette.@c e € 5€ 45. 92/12/2603 CONTINUED: 5a Somehow, he manages to resume lighting the butt, shakes out the match, and tosses it away. takes a deep drag. It seems to calm him, He spesks levelly, but it's a spitless voice, smoke choking his lungs. Mort Took 1t up recently for my health. SECOTER, How are you, Hr. Rainey? Mort exhales a cloud of smoke. Kort I'm fine, Mr, Shooter. How about you? arching, looking for some kind of weapon, Mort's eyes ars anything. SHOOTER I'm-a country fair. But I don't think you're really all that well. Stealing trom another mas, that don't seea to hava ever bothered you none. Being gaught up on, though. as to have given you the pure miser: mor? What are you talking about? ‘SHOOTER Well, it sounded like you pitched a fit or something in there. Shouting... whacking on things... or maybe it just that successful writers like you throw tantrums when things don't go the wey they expect. Ip that it, maybe7 MORE The magazine with the story in it 1s at my house in town. Moxt’s eyes dart -- a lawn chair, a stack ef firewood, « shovel stuck in the dirt. A shovel! SHOOTER Why didn't you get it? ou were dovn there today, weren't you? HORT How do you know that?C @ 54 46. 02/12/2003 conrrsosp: (2) 54 SHOOTER Why didn't you go inside’ “Stead of just sittin in your car like « damp fool? Shit. He followed me. shit. Mort tries to keep his voice level as he starts to walk casually toward the shovel. Shooter moves with him, staying just barely io the light. kort When I get the story and show it to you, will you leave me alone? SHOOTER, (lazity amsed} There isn't any magazine with that story in it, Mr. Rainey. You and me, we know that, Bot from 1993, there isn't. How could there be, when my story wasn't there fer you to ateal until 19957 worT God damn it, I did not steal your st- SHOOTER Wo, uot all of it, trua enough. Hot the best part, ORT What do you vant? tell me! What in the hell de you vant? SHOOTER You want the second reason I came, is that it? woRt Yea! Mort reaches the shovel, turns so that he's in front of it, blocking ite view from shooter. SHOOTER I want you to fix it. Mort What?! SHOOTER My ending. Tha one you wrecked. Can't decide what's vorse, stoald story or rudning the ending. fac {NORE}47, 02/12/2003 54 CONPINUED: (3) 54 SHOOTER (cont'4) Most important part of a story, the e C ending, Mine ves perfect, it way & real ending, not that phony crap you shoved in. (zeciting with contempt) “He Ioaked in her eyes avd sev ker face as be had first knows it, as if it vere ten years ago and none of this hed ever happened. Be fell to the ground and into her embrace, down in the dirt, down in the place where new things .* You hava got to be pardon ny Tangaage fucking kidding me, Mr. Rainey. Put it back the way it ought to be, ‘MORT I don’t even remomber your ending. ‘SBOOTER Oh, I bet you do. It's hard to forget. (reciting fron namcry) *r know I can do it,~ Todd Downey said, delping himself tc another eat of corn from the steaming bovl. "I'm sure that in time her death vill be 2 systery of even to me.” That's bow the story e ends, Pilgria, It's the only ending. You're gonna write it for me and get it published. And it's gonna have mame ba it, Right has got to be put right. Mort sneaks one bend behind bis back, feeling for the shovel handle. He speaks, his voice thick with zage. HORT ‘The only thing x'll write for you is your death-warrant, if you don't leave me alone. i Leng pause. Shooter eyes him. Sees vhere Mort's hand ia going. SHOOTER Sav that wife of yours, comin’ out of the hous aggerated countryisn) party. Mort's fingers close sround the shovel handle, QO tea She wort her out of it,ec 54 33 48. 92/12/2003 conprmuza: (4) 54 SBOOTER Would if I could, but I'm startin‘ to Mort yanks the shovel from the dirt and swings it around by the handle, straight tovard Shooter's head. Shooter stops it with one bend, lays bis other on it and shoves back. Mort stumbles over the pile of dirt and lands on his back, the vind COPING out of him, Shooter falle on hin, holds the shovel with both hands, presses it down on Mort's Adan's apple. Nort chokes, Shooter spits vords at him. SHOOTER (cont'd) Do you want to wake up from one of your stupid naps and find Amy nailed to your garbage bin?! Or turn on the radio some morning and hear she came off uecond best in 9 match with the chainsaw you keep out in the shed?! Mort summons his strength, vhich is considerable, and greater than Shooter's, and hurls the man off him. Shooter lands on his feet as Mort rolls over to his bands and kneas, gagging end ohoking. SHOOTER (cont‘d) (calnly) You can't get away with it. Don't you realise that y Ye bends dova and picks up his hat, duste it off and back on his head, ta it SHOOTER (cont'd) 1 know what you did, and I ain't quitting till right gete put zight. On tha ground, coughing up spit and blood, Mort watches as Shooter walks away across the yard, cur to: oer CARIN ~ BATHROOM NIcET 35 The shattered chunks of mirror are still on the floor of the bathroom upstairs. Looking at twenty-six shards, ve see tventy- x Mort Raineys coming et His hand grows buge as he hes down and picks up the largest shard.ec 55 56 57 58 43. 02/12/2003 comninuzD: 55 Mort tucks the shard into a corner of the door of the broken medicine cabinet, shoves the whole thing back into its hols in the wall, He leans forward, looking at his refiecticn in the shard. ke touches his neck gingerly, rons bis fingertips over the distinctive red line left where the shovel handle nearly choked him to death. INT CABIN - BEDROOM = RIGHT 56 Mort lies in bed, staring straight up at the ceiling, Right, Like he's gonne be able te fall aslesp tonight. Int caBIM - OFFICE IGET 57 Still night, Mort's computer screan comes to life. The cursor glicks on the MS Word icon, then picks a file called "Untitled." Opens it. The entire page is blank, it's the atory he deleted the other day. dust a blinking cursor in a big field of white. Mort, who's sitting at bis desk, stares at it ruefully. xoRT What, you didn't write anything vbile t was gone? Ko woader you're not~ He turns and looks at the leather chair Bump alwsys aits in, but of course the chair's empty tonight. Yergot for a second. Mort stares at the empty chair for = long moment, ‘Then turns bask to his desk. Be braaks down and sobi FADE 70 BLACK. ax? AMY'S HOUSE RIGHT se Amy's house. Mighttime. Mostly dark, but there's 4 light on ia one corner of the house, and as we creep closer to that light, We sae a silhoustte moving in the window. Jerking around, really, and as ve get aven closer wa hear CRASHING, breaking sounds. We draw cl: ad closer still, the curtains in the room are parted, we can see between them. The room must be Mort's old office, the walls are lined with books and bound periodicals, like the lake house, but many, many more.e] 38 so so. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: 58 The figure inside is the familiar form of Shooter, capped by that creepy hat, which throws « crary shadow on the far wall. He upends the desk, then picks something up off the floor, bottle, looks like champagne, that's funny, and heads for the door, stuffing something din the neck of the bottle, looks like a rag. He pauses in the doorway, SCRAPES a Sippo and touches the rag, which immediately starts on fire. He tosses the bettle right at us, it lands on the floor and smashes. The room EXPLODES into flame, that weren't no champagne in the bottle, that was gascline, end the window we've crept up to SHATTERS in our fa From the street, ve the ball of fire rise up from the corner of the dry old Victorian, taking half the roof with it. This baby's gonna burn like cordwaed. cur t0: Ter CABIN = LIVING ROOM = DAY 59 Daytime now. The unplugged phone cord lias on the floor in Mort's cabin, still a few feet from the phone it should be attached to. On the couch, the pillow is empty, the indentation és still there, but no head, Where's Nort? Moving left, we find Mort sitting on the couch, staring straight ahead, still in the clothes he fell asleep in, bed head. Xo telling how long he's ben avake, it looke like he swung his lege over the edge of the couch and just stopped in that peaition. Ho looks awfnl. what red line is etill across his throat. He notices the phone in front ‘of him. Looks to the floor, seer the unplugged cord. Mustering all the ambition he has at the moment, he bends over and picks up the cord. lis looks at the 1ittle clip thing on its end, looks at the Phone, debating the merits of plugging dt in. Deciding what the bell, he reaches over and jams the cord into the back of the phone -- =- which RINGS immediately. Nort twitches. He's jumpy anyway, but you know, you hate it when that happens. ifiedec e% 51, 59 CONTINUED: MORT Is that you, John Wayne? (answers) Hello. BY (0,5-) Mort?! He's relieved, at least it isn't Shooter. AMY (0.8.} (COWT'D) Mort, are you thera?! Mort! 92/12/2003 59 Yeah, Amy, Jesus, not se loud, What is ite AMY (0.8.) Where have you bean?! I’ve bean trying to gat hold of you all night and this morning! ORT I was asleep. aME (0.82) You unplugged the phone?! wort How may T assist you, Any? any (0.8.) Ob God... noRT (concerned now) What happened? ANY Someone burned down our House! That's what happenad! 60 EXT AMY'S HOUSE - RUIN pat cor to: 6D Mort stands in front of the sucking hulk that was once the green Victorian he and Amy shared at 92 Kansas Street in Riverdale. He just stares at it, his face slack with shock and loss.e) 60 61 62 63 64 52. 02/32/2003 CONTINUED: 60 The pite is cordoned off by police tapa, there are three or four COPS and two FIRE INSPECTORS picking carefully through the remains. Mort looks at what used to be the house, we peer closely at hin, then vben wa ses his point of view again -- MORY'S MENTAL IMAGE - AMK'S HOUSE (REW) a+ the house is back the way it used to be, seme angle from the aidewalk, but the house is freshly painted and clean on & summer's day. Amy cones out of the house in a business suit, putting shoes on as she buries to ber car, late for a mecting. Mort coues to the door in his boxers and SHOUTS after her. wORT Wey iady, you only left # hundred bucks on the dresser] You think I give it avy? TRO OLD WOMEN passing on the sidewalk overhear. ar {eubsrrassed but laughing) Bhat up! ur AME" ROUSE - RUDY par Mort chokes back the emotions he feels, He looks up, to where the third floor of the house used to be, and as Re icoks, it digsolves into place -- MORT'S MENTAL THAGE - AMY'S HOUSE (NEW) 63 -- and the house ig restored once more. Now we're locking more elesely at a certain vindew, a vindoy in a corner of the third floor rar AMY'S HOUSE - THIRD FLOOR Ar 64 62 ‘This room is one of those strangely shaped but cool corner rooms you find in this kind of house. It's being set up as an office, amy's office. Any is excited, talking te us, shoving us something. aur Tt' the beet room in the house, at least for me. Down here, check it out. some boxes out of the way, @ window 42 an odd place, down at floor level. You ily miss it 4¢ you didn't look for it. She slidex down the wall neat to it, points down.e* 64 6s 66 67 53. 92/12/2003 CONEINUED: 4 amy [sont?d) See that little patch of dirt? The only place you can see it is from up here. I want to put a garden there. She pulls her knees up to her chest, stares happily out the vindow. ANT (cont'd) It's eret window, and it looks dows on @ secret garden. uxt AMY'S HOUSE - RUIN DAY 65 Back outside, looking up at the third floor, and this tine ve can see Any in the window, until she dissolves away, along with the oui The smoking hulk is all that remains. Mort is moved, now there's a wiatful amile on his face. BEY (0.8) Mort! He turns, smile still on his lips — Ted striding toward him with amy, holding her > antil he #1 bend. Suddenly, another -~ MENTAL IMAGE - MOTEL ROOK ~~ and this one 4sn't nearly so pleasant. it's Mort's poiat of view of the ugly scene we sow in the opentag. Xe storms into ‘the hotel room, Amy and Ted struggle to cover their naked bodies, they all scream at each other 66 ars AMY'S HOUSE - RUIN DAY 67 w- and the wistful smile disappears from Mort's face, turning into something hard and hurt by the time thay reach him, WORT HL. Be hugs ber, she hugs him back hard. Over her shoulder, he makes brief eye contact with Ted, who forces a semi-polite grimace.. 67 a. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: 6 MORP (cont'd) {seftly, in ber ear} I’m sorry about ell of this, Amy. All of it, Really sorzy. ar So am I. TED et {alight Southern accent) ‘Me too. ORT {fuck you, Ted) Thank you, Ted. Amy retreats to Ted's side. WICKERSHAM, the fire chief, approaches them with a police detective, BRADLEY. Wickersham addresses Tad and Any. WICKERSRAK Mr. and Mrs. Rainey? Three responses, 221 at once: nee MoT Yea? Wo. 7D Uhh... Wickexshan looks back and forth, confused. Amy takes a step toward Mort's side. any We are. Were. The owners. ‘WICKERSHAM (now really confused) Ware? You don't own it anymore? Bradley gives Wickersham « lock ~- figure it out, iddot. Mort helps him. wor Were Mr. and Mrs. Rainey. are the owners. WICKERSEAM AR.ec 67 5. 02/22/2003 CONTINUED: (2) 67 BRADLET I'm Steven Bradley, I'm a detective with the Riverdale P.D., this ie Fire Chief Wickershan. won't keep you long, the insurance investigator needs te see you in the city at thr WIOKSRSEAN You're definitely the victims of arson. ‘The fire was started by on incendiary Gavice made trom a bottle of Moet Chandon champagne and a couple quarts of plain old gasoline. BRADLEY Bo let's start with enenies. Tou got any? ar Bo. Wo ona. mp Mot a soul, Hort looks at Ted, really irritated. MORT Okay with you if I answer these, Ted? Ted holds up hie hands, okay, okay. Mort turas to Bradley. HORT (cont'd) Yes. I have an enemy. Any looks at bin, Bradisy pulle out his netabook. : cur 70; THT = THBURANCE OFFICE = DAY 6 Back in the city, back in another office with a great view, this time at a conference table. Bradley and FRAN EVANS, an insurance iavestigator in her fifties, are on one side, uy, Mort, and Ted are on the other, Amy sits between her two men. This sust be fun, ‘EVANS sorry I wasn't there to meet you this morning, Z spent most of last aight poking through the site with a flashlight and a Polaroid, (stops heraelt) Sorry. Broke one of zy own rules. (MORE }COnDIMUED: 36. 02/12/2003 68 EVANS (cont'd) I don't like to call it “the wasn't a site, It was a hou: house, and I'm very sorry for your loss. MORT Thank you... Me glances at her business card, vbich he's holding in his hand. mort (cont’ a} -.-Hrs, Bvens. ‘EVANS. That wtill say Mrs? (teks) Yran is fine, Lock, these maetings are ifficult, People in your situation are already upset, understandably 10, and quite often they take the presence of an dovestigator as an accusation that they torched theix owa property. ay I have to admit, I did feel a little on the spot. Thanks for bringing it up. Ted noda, so violently that his head might have ona string. ‘Mort notices, just stares at hin. All Tad has to do is breathe to irritate Kort. She puts the EVANS And in this case we certainly seam to have a plausible suspect in this Mr. Shooter, whem our people will Snvestigate aggressively along with the police, but in the meantime... (pulls ont a tile folder) The hard part. * file on the table in front of them delicately, EVANS (cont'd) it's a list ef your claimed insurable Property. You look it over, then sign an affidavit swearing that the ites listed still beleng to you, and that they wore still in the house when the fize occurred, Anything that wasn't there, put = check, I'm told there wi sian (tiny pause) (ORE) |57. 02/12/2003 68 cowzzmuD: (2) 68 EVANS (cont’a) separation of residence recently, so that last bit nay be particularly inportent. wORT We're dn a divorce, It isn't final yet, aMy the settienent agreemact is all done, everything's zeady to go, we're really just waiting for it to be signed. (with a quick glance at Mort) By both parties. ed looks at Mort teo, not such a quick glance. Mort ignores thea. ORT (to Evans) I moved ont siz months ago, but. T hadu’t got around to hauling all my stuff out of the house yet. down thi things Reon st road. Thase just r bave to follow their natural course. e@ ‘Things wrap up when everybody's ready for that to happen. wor? (a returned quick glance at Azy) That's been my feeling. ‘VANS Do the best you can with the list. Amy looks down at it. Mort leans in over her left shoulder. And fed leans in over her right shoulder. Amy notices and tips fie file just a Little bit in his direction so they can all see it. Mort is furious, but holds it in. He reaches out and tipa the file back in his om direction. ar Mort... MORT Qo (to Ted, softiy 2iviay Do you actually intend to rubberneck?69 58. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: (3) 6B The tension in the room is thick as cake frosting. For a monent no one says a word. Detective Bradley's eyes move alertly back and forth between the thres of then. Finally: =D (throagh clenched teeth) T hardly think- yor I'm not going to freak out about thi: But this vas our stuff, amy. Ours. TED Tt ien't as ite amy Ho, he's right, Ted. EVAR We is, Mr. Milner. The law says you have no right to be looking at the Listed dteme at all. We wink at sonething like that if nobody minds... but I think Mr. Rainey does. MORT Yee. we. Rainey ginds a lot. any red stares at Mort evenly -~ —~ and then turne to speak to Amy, ignoring everyone else. Tsp Would it help matters if I tock a walk around the block? ORT Why not make it two? cur 0; THT CORRIDOR DAY 69 The necting over, Mort, Amy, Fran Evans, and Bradley walk down the hallway to the elevators. Zvans and Sradley are talking to one another in the rear, Mort and Any are in front. Amy pute « hand on Mort's arm and pulle closer to hin,3. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: 69 aay I’m sorry about in there, about Ted. You have no idea how hard it is to be the one in the middle. Mort sees that she means it and musters up some kindness. MORT shitty situation. so fucking edule, ‘huh? She laughs dryly and nods. They reach the elevators. ae Mort, Z vant to ask you. {she puts @ hand ‘on bie arn} ZX den't want to upest you... She looks ever et Rvans and Bradley, who are right behind them, but Evans catches the lock and she and Bradley retreat a few steps down the halivay and turn away politely. Mort looks at Any, warms to her, is even concerned about ber. MOR? What is it? turns back to Mort, leans in closer and lowers her voice confidentially. He puts his hand on hers. ar Between you and me, okey? NORT Absolutely. aur This guy Shooter: Mis story, I mean, Mort, in this situation... ds it like ‘the other time? Mort's warmth cools. He withdraws his hand. He's furious. ‘MORT Look. That waa the only tine I ever 4id anything remotely like that, it never happened before or since. I was just out of grad achcol, ve were broke, we thought you vere pregnant, renember ali that? anr Okay, okay...60. 02/12/2003 68 comsrmuED: {2} 6 ® i wort It was stupid and desperate and I've paid for it. 2 paid the guy everything be asked and I've kept paying, believe ne, every single night for about fifteen years. You're the only person who knows about it besides the lawyers, and even though we're not together T axpaect you to keep it thet way. ar Tine. to catch her eye. A horrible thought atrixes him. Be tris MOR? You haven't teld Ted, have you? ar (unconvaneing) fo. ort Hava you? The elevator BINGS, the doors open, and guess who steps off. mp Well, do I have timing or what? Kort ah, I'm sorry you had to miss that, Ted. X know how much you like my things, Another avkvard silence, which Ted has had just about enough of. TED (to Mort) re going to talk for a minut Ha starts to reach for Mort's arm, thinks better of it, and nods sharply over to @ corner of the hallway. Mort looks et the others. yoRT Excuse ma, I'm in trouble. IN TRE CORNER, fy Mort joias Ted, who is pissed off, This is not a side of him he ; shows when he's with Any,61. 02/12/2003 = \ Tive bad ebout enough of your bullshit. woRT You've had enough? ™D : Marriages end, I'm sorry. J didn't end yours, it was over vhen f got there. wor Wow, you must have thought ber wedding ring vas weird, then. mp I apologized to you. Months ago, ‘I know yen don’t Want me in your life -- guess vhat, I don't vant you in mine either. But until your divorce ds done there's not much we can do about it. I just want you to know I decided a long time ago that I will not lat you upset Amy any more than you alresdy have, I am not Prepared to let that heppen. 80 let-o just wrap this up and get cut of each other's lives permanent. (a toothy, weird smile) Okay? Are wa gettin’ the message I'm wendin'? ved's Southern accent is bit stronger on that last line. Mort looks at hin, noticing it, one Where are you from, teddy? Tz Tennessee. Morty. wort Really. I thought maybe Missiasippi. te No, long way fron there. A little town eallad Shooter's Encb, Tennessee. what be thought he heard? Mort furrows his brow. Did he he: ao eur fo:10 7 72 62, 02/12/2003 ! iT MORT'S CAR BIGET 70 ok to Pashmore Lake with he clamped to the straight as a ruler and his syer He has the radio on, blasting, trying Mort driv steering vheal, his spine fixed firaly on the road. to ‘stave off thought. Doesn't work, ‘He NAPS the radio off, highly agitated. ror the first time, we hear his thoughts. (A note about that -- Mort's thoughts don't come through clearly, like voice over. They swirl and overlap, the way your thoughts do, some just whispers, some louder than thet, and some fragments spoken out loud.} Mort {inner voice) Well that's kind of o (out loud) fucking coincidence (dinner voice) ien't it? Be xubs his head, thinking, thinking. wor? (cont'd) (dnner voice) Maybe he knows bin {eut lowd) sending me a xessage (Anner voice) yomna fucking figure this out, Teddy. Re flicks the radio back on, even louder. cor to: art canry urcer n Headlights splash dovn the drivevay of Mort‘s cabin as a car pulls in. The headlights stop, shining right on the cabin fron about twenty yards away. INT MORD'S CAR NIGH? ri gine idling, locking around the nother car. Mort sits in the car, property. No sign MORT {inner voice} Come om, Kelsch... (aloud) Five hundred a day and where the hell are you when T need you?12 723 ” 75 76 7 63. 02/12/2003 CONSINUED: 72 He takes one more look around, drops the car in yesr, and pulls right up to the froat porch, just a few fest trom the first step. Hs puts it in park, kills the lights, and gets out. ae FRONT PORCH «=| RIGHT n He clinbs the steps quickly, keys the front dear, and goss inside, rat caBIE SIgET Mort flicks on a light and hangs the keys on the hook by the front door, SUAMMING and locking the door behind him. oTY ‘The phone RINGS. MORE Gee, I bet it's good news. He reaches for it. ner CHEAP MOTEL © NIGHT Ken Kelsch is sprawled out on the bright orange bedspread in 2 small town motel. A couple mini-bar bottles are open on the bedside table next to him, he's drinking bourbon end water out ef a plastic bathroem cup. The Cheetos look good too. KELSCE (inte the phone) Wnera the hell you been all day? 18 mu CABIN - LIVING ROOM wIGHT 18 Mort's standing in the living room, phone in hand. vor I might ask you the sane question. : KRLSCE (0.8.) Relax, you're fins, 3 checked your vabin'an hour ago. HORT He shoved up right after you left last night. mur MOTEL = wrGHT 7 Kelsch site up.7 7m 79 CONTINUED: te 02/12/2003 ELSCE Really? hen he bad a busy night. my office called ae about your Riverdale house, I'm sorry. INT «CABIN - LIVING ROOK = HIGHT. MORT The worst part 4s I hadn't got the magazine trom my atudy yet. The one with the story he says I stole. Nov it went up in the fire, KELSCH (0.8. ) You still want te go through with it? meeting bin, showing him the magazine? noRT Hell yes. I've spent the last halt year walking through « sbitstorn, Ken, having things happen to me. This is something I want to Randle myself. Ee ean go to jail ex go avay or go to hell, 4t's all the sane to ms. As long as he’s gone, mr momen IGE Kelseh turns, swings his legs off the bed. RELSCE Good. Because T called your agent when I heard about the hous ‘I figured he'd have a copy of the magazine. He sent an original by overnight today, you can pick it up at your post office tomorrow after thr MOR? (0.8.) I knew there was @ reason I hired you. KELSCE There's something else. X caught up with your Tom Greenleaf today. The guy that drove past you and Shooter on the ake Road. INT CABIN - LIVING ROOM = NIGHT wort Yeah? 7 mw ” a0e ai 65. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: Bo ERLECH (0. You're not gonna like this WORT He didn't wee anything? Int ‘MOTEL uIGsT et Kelsch consults his notepad. KRLSCH Worse. First he says he did go down Sake Drive on Tuesday and be sav you Like you said, but then he gats weird, says Ro no n6, Some to think of it I di@n't. Didn't see anybod: Wasn't evan om Lake Drive on Tuesday. KoRT (0.8.) Well, Tom's seventy-five if he's a day. Might've slipped bis mind. ‘KBLSCH y Up on « scaffold when I saw him, painting your Parish Ball. Leoked strong as an ox to me. Int ‘CABIN - LIVING ROOM MIGET 82 WORT Doasn't mean bis memory's good. ERLECE (0.6, ) Don't be naive. The guy was scared shitless. somebody got to hin. MORE Come om, why would shooter possibly care if Tom Greenisa? knows he's here? RELSCH (0.8.) That depends. xORT On what? KELSCH (0.8.) on what he plans to do to you. I'm revising my opinion, Mort. I don’t think Shooter's just some nut, intimidation of witnesses speaks to a ‘thought-oct plen.66. 02/32/2003 ? 830 rr = MOTEL «= “NIGHT 8a Kelsch upeaks carefully. Doesn't vent to be'too alarming -- which of course be is. ‘KELSCH We need to consider the posibility that he was Aired to do this. Somabody with a grudge against you, hires @ tough guy te rattle you, scare you to death. But he hires the wrong guy. Things get out of control. They go further than they're supposed to... dead dogs, burned-down houses. Mow he can't call him off. e¢ oNT CABIN = RIGHT. Mort saga to the coffee table. ue speaks quistly. aa wort ed. XBLECH (0.8.) Who? wor e's trying to gealight me. KELECH {0.5.} Who's Ted? MORT the guy Amy left m= for, Maybe that's why the guy calls himself Shooter, Ted vants me to know it's hin, send me a KELSCH (0.8.} Why? What does be vant? I don't know. ORT ELSE Did you piss him off? Give bin a reason to hate you? Mort thinks about that, closes his ey ‘A flash of something crosseg the screen, very faat, it could have been the motel room from the opening, probably vas, it‘s bard to tell. Mort snaps e iit'eree ofaa6 as 67. 02/12/2003 CONTINGED: a ‘wORT Might have. KELSCH Okay, here's what ve do. What other proof do you have that Shooter was bere? Other than the macuscrip’ Physical evidence, I'm talking about. Mort strains to think, @ hand te the side of his head, ranembering the episcds with Shooter by the lake. Images from their encounter flash past: Bxr 0 PAGH BY THE LAKE = DAY. 8s in Mort's face, GROWLS at him: =+ Shooter get SHOOTER You lie. =- Shooter's hands grab Mort by the biceps and shove bin back against the car, hard. v= Shooter's hands, holding Mort's arms, hard. His fingers and ‘thambs preasing in so hard they're torning white Ist CABIN - LIVING ROOK = MIGHT a6 HORT Hold the phone « sec. He drops the receiver and shoves bis sleeves up as far as they'll go. He holds out his arms. At first he sees sothing, then be rotates then outward as far as they'll go and there they axe, two yellowing bruises on the inside of sack arm, just above the elbow -- marks made by Shooter's thunbs. BACK OM TEE COUCH, Mort picks up the phone again. . _MORP {cont'd} Bruises. On my arms, vhere he grabbed me. Der MOTEL ‘NIGHT 87 KELSCE Rot very concrate, but it's emotional, At might get to hin. you and me axe gonna go see Greenleaf together. Bring the manuseript, bring your bruises. (t0RE)e. 02/22/2003 87 «© comprmmep: a7 KELSCH (cont'd) I'm gonne push the guy bard, make it impossible for him to lie. If he'll tall the police he was threatened too, then we've got something, it certainly ties him te the fire. WORT (0.8-) I'll meet you at Bowie's for breakfast. XRLECH 9 a.m. sharp. ee iNT CABIN ~ LIVING ROON RIGHT as Morr See you there. RELSCH (0.5.) And bring your six gun, Pilgrim. Mort, who was about to hang up, freezes at that last word. KELECH (0.8.) (COBT'D) I'm kidding. (no response} You still there? wort you at nine. Yeah. 1/11 i He hangs up quickly. Sits there staring at the phone for a long nonent, busched over it. cur 70: a9 ose CABIN ~ BEDROOM = - BIGHT 85 Mort's in bed. Wide avake. He looks up at the ceiling. Flips over. Plopa the cther way. He bolts out of bed, dragging the Blankets with him and heads -- 90° mar CABIN ~ LIVING ROOM = _WIGET 90 c+ into the darkened living room, straight for the couch, Except this time ve don't even see Mort, we are Bort, drifting toward the couch, sucked in by it, down into its pillow, between its cushions, into ite inky recesses.90 32 63. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: 0 We roll over, face up at the ceiling. he entire room recedes from us, a5 if we're falling into » deep deep hole, but ve don't even mind that mich, at least it's quiet, and we know we'll see fothing in that hole that frightens us because at its boctan there is only BLACK, it = CABIN pat a Just as we vent into the hole, we rise slowly out of it, out of ‘the black toward a pinprick of light in the distance. We're pulled toward the light the way ws were sucked into the black, but this hurts more, it's that bright. We coma up out of the couch inte the living room, wicksd bright with morning sunlight. Mort winces from it, bis head still deep in the pillow. Re sits up, svings his legs off the couch -- so and GROANS in pain, a groan so lond it's almost a muted scream. His hands dart up, be tries to hold his back, bis knees, and his right arm ail at the samo time, mot Oh my God... fe rubs his right shoulder, tries to massage some life into it. MORT (cont'd) {dnnez voice) that door (aloud) how hard did {inner voice) bathroom door {aloud) hacd did I hit itz He squints across tha room, to a clock on the far wall. It's a quarter after ten. HORT (cont'd) ob shit. We gets to hia fest, painfully, and whips ona tee shirt. He's still weering Bis pants. Feet step into shoes and he heeds for the door. He reaches up to suatch his car keys from the hook --a a 92 98 9 95 10. 02/12/2003 coNTINUBD: a1 but they're not there. He looks. That's weird. Thought he left then there laat night. He pats his pockets. Nope. vuras and locks around the room. Bub uh. Ter KITCHEN = pAY 92 Mort's oar keys are sitting on the counter in the kitchen. Gomes through the swinging door, locke around the room, spots then, Be comes over and picks them up, bounces them thoughtfully on the paim of hia hand. {eat Loud) Don't like that at all. tr = LIVING ROOM DAY. 93 Mort crouses the living room, throws open the front door -~ EXt = FROWT PORCH = DAY. + and stops in bis tracks. Shooter's hat is lying on the porch ia front of the door. ‘The distinctive black bat with the round crown, Kort stands there locking at it, his heart beating in bis ears (and ours). Mort steps dovn off the porch, cutting a wide semi-circle around the hot, and stands where his car ought tc be, right in front of the porch, vhere he left it last night. Be looks around, it parked over next to the garags, a hundred feet away. 4 We looks down at the keys in his hand, turns and looks back at the bat on the porch. INE BUICK DAE 95 Mort rips open the door of the var end slides behind the vheel. His eye is caught by the ashtray, which is hanging open, four cdgazette butts da it. He reaches down and pulls one out, pinching it between his Eiagernails. He holds it up to lock at it, Onéiltered Pall Mall. Mort chucks it back into the ashtray as if it were radioactive.37 of ne. 02/12/2003 uxt FROME PORCH pay 96 Mort picks up Shooter's bat with the same distaste he showed the cigarette batt. He flips it over, peers into it, Nothing out of the ordinary, just a very old sweat-stained inser band. The band is dark and slick. Mort catches a whiff of it and furrows bis brov. Recognizes thet smell but can't place it. uxt BUICK Day 97 the bat sails inte the trunk ef the Buick and the lid SLAMS shut over it. whe car sprays gravel out of the driveway. cur To: mr ‘BOWIE'S STORE DAZ 98 GERDA Mort Rainey! The door to Bowie's Store BANGS abut bebind Mort, who vinces at the noise as balf a dozen beads turn from the countex vhere GERDA BOWIE, tail and busty and loud, is serving breakfast to a bunch of LOCALS. The store part of Bovie’s is in the hack, the front 1s & coffee shop. GERDA (cont'd) Maven‘t seen you in a coon's age! wedting any good books lately? xORT Rrying, Failing. locks eround the place for Kelsch, who isn't there, Damn it, missed hin. Mort takes a seat ot tha far end of the counter, & faw stools avay from evarybody else. As Gerda finishes serving the others, Mort calla out to her. MoRS (cont'd) Gerda, you woulda't make me one of your bacon and cheese and vhatevar-the-hell- else-you-got omelettes, would you? GERDA Shit no! She laughs to show she's only joking. ‘he other men at tha geunter, Public Horks guys in green covernlis, laugh along with38 72. 02/12/2003 CONPSHUED: oe GERDA (cont'd) Gimme a ninute, Mort nods as the PW guys steal glances at him. They find him odd, always hava, snd they're not too shy to stars, Mort's uncomfortable, he looks avay. To bis left, a BUSEOY is stocking the cigerette rack next to the sh register, Se has « carton of Pail Melle and is taking the acks Ut one at a tine, loading them into the rack. Mort stares at the brand. The Susboy notices and looks back at hin. susz0r Would you like « pack? fe holds ons of the red packs ovt to Mort enticingly. wort I don't smoke. GRD Good for you, honey. She flips Mort's coffes cup right side up and pours him sone. GERDA (cont'd) (lowars har voice} Beard about your divorce, Mort. I'm sorry. Nor? thanks, Gerda. GERDA ef yourself? Are you taking woRT Workin' on it. * GERDA Because you lock a little peaky. We looks up at her, tries to hide his annoyance.73. 02/12/2003 98 CONTINUED: (2) GERDA (cont‘d) But 6 man dosen't have to sleep alons forever, Nort, just because some fool wouan- moat {eutting her off) nid a guy cone in here this morning looking for me? Around nine o'clock? GERDA wo. mort Big guy, very Hew York cop? GERDA Wo. Wo, doesn't ring a ball. Kent ‘Hine o'clock? I was supposed to mest him but I overslept. GERDA Maybe he did too, ‘cause he sure a bell wasn't Sn he: mr PARISH BALL DAY 39 Mort pulls up in front of the Parieh Hall, one side of which is covered in scaffolding, an old Ford Bronce is parked in front with a camper on the back and a sign reading SONNY TROTTS PAINTING - CARETARING - CARPENTRY on each of the doors. Mort get out of bis Buick and walks over to the base of the scaffolding, Be calls up to SONNY TROTTS, fortyish, slapping paint onto the aiding three stories up. ORT Sonny! Hey, Sonny! Sonny goes on painting, can't bear Mort over the Roger Whittaker aong playing on bis boom box. MORT (cont'd) ‘sommr! Souny jerks. White paint flies from the end of bis brush and for a aomsnt it looks like be might fall, but he grabs onto one of the ropes and steadier himself, He looks down.ef 200 201 mM. 92/12/2003 CONTINED: 98 sOMNy Why, wr. Rainey! You gave me ¢ belluva tural MOR? I'm sorry. I thought you were going to fall off, sonny Mot ma. Tom might fall off, maybe, but net me. wont You seen him todsy? Ton? soRNE Never shoved up. ‘Course that ain't unusual for fou, if his sciatica’s at it. MORT Anybody come around leoking for hin? somsy Well... (eninks) You. CUR m0: 200 oT NORT'S CAR pay Mort drives out of town on the main road, headed back to his house. As ha passes a ges station he dose @ double take, catching aight of e cer parked at the pumps. Tt's » purple BMW. A guy is standing near the resr ef the car, at the gas tank, facing the road. He looks avfully familiar, He should. It's Ted. A born BLARES, Mort snaps his head back toward the roi hitting the oncoming truck, then be stomps on the brake: Amazemext is replaced by angez. He SLAMS the car into reverse and beoka up ~~ to avoid at GAS STATION Dar 302 w= hauling it into the gas station parking lot right up beside Ted's car. Mort gets out of the car coolly end saunters over to Ted, who's screwing the gas cap back on.. 101 CONTINUED: (dee) 15. 02/12/2003 302 MOR What ars you doing here? rep Ag a matter of fact, I was just on my way over to your place. {glancing around) wneze's your buddy? T= I camp alone. MORT Sure you eid. (looks bin in the eye) I know what you're up to. ved Fair enough. Ted stares at Kort. His tone 4s vague and threatening, he's choosing his words very carefully. TED (cont'd) Wook, I admit... He swallows, and we detect si nervous, Or is he scared? i Mort, a thing elas in him, Ted is s hard to read. TED (cont‘d) lot of vhat's going on right now is wy fault. Most of it, din fact. non So you're admitting it? mp I sort of got this ball rolling, and the truth is now I'm afraid I won't be able to stop it. Mort stares him dovn. A quist rege is brewing inside hin. xORT What do you want? T= T want you to end things. Once and for all.e 1. 02/12/2003 202 101 cowpimuen: {2} Ted polis something fron his shoulder bag, a thick sheaf of legal-locking papers. TED (cont'd) You naed to sign your papers, Mort. Mort just stares at him, aghast, we gives Tad TED (contd) amy and I can’t go on until your story da put to reat. mon? What the tuck is... my divorce papers?! Gell her to send ‘am to my lavyer. sD She did. He said you MORT That's what this has all been about? Getting me to sign the God damn settlement? ™ Just cool down # mimute, mort {putting it all together) wy God, it's because of thé book deal, isn't it? Beceuse ay deal's up in a few months, and you two want ma to sign Bow so I'm locked into higher alimony for the next ten years, That's what thie is, it's money, Jesus Christ, this dw all about money! And you two think you'ze gonna muscle me for it?! mp I'd hate to see where things could end up df we let this qo on. I think you know what I mean. woRT Well Teddy, T think 1 do, but here's the problem, I don't respond well to intimidation. “I never have. Brings out my inner asshole. hard shove in the shoulder, halfway betveen « punch and a pash.104 102 77, 02/12/2003 CoNrINUED: (3) 101 MORT {cont'd} See what I mean? He givee him another hard shove, in the other shoulder. aarder ‘than the last. wORT (cont'd) Just gets you all riled up, doesn't it? So whatever else you think you got for me, bring it on. You started this? You're gonpa finish 1t? Puck you, it's out of your control and you know it. I'm going to finish this, Do me « favor and tall -- (a bard finger in ted's chest) ~~ that to your little friend. Suddenly enraged, Ted lashes out, unleashing a hard right cros: that's headed straight at Mort's jaw. Mort bobs to the right, fast reflexes, just missing the punch, which leads -- -- on the driver's window of ed's car. There's a sharp CRACK, but the glass is intact, so it wasn't the window. it wae tuo hones in Ted’s hand. to his kneas, mort looks Ted CRIES OUT in pain and crunpli down at him. MORT (cont'd) Got yourself a temper, bub? So do I. ist CABIN - LIVING ROOM =~ DAY 102 Back home. Mort fits on the couch in his living room, arms folded across bie chest, staring at sonsthing on the coffes ¢ 7 Shooter's hat. Dead center on the tabletop. Mort sits forvard, inspects it more closely, He's just reaching out te pick 4t up when -- w- the phone RINGS at about four thousand decibels. Mort jumps a foot, as if suddenly avakened. woRD About tine, Ken. {ensvers it) Hello?¢ mm. 02/12/2003 wor 102 cowTINvsD: 103 SHOOTER {0.3.) Go to where we met the other day. Mert freezes, recognizing Shooter's voice. SHOOTER (0.8.) (COPD) Walk down the path a little wey. HORT Why? SHOOTER (0.8.1 You impress ms as a man who thinks the way old folks chew their food, Kr. Rainey, but I'm willing to give you all ‘the time you need. I'll catch up with you this afternoon. Anybody you call between now and then is your responsibility. woRT What did you do? But there's only a dead line. WORT (cont'd) (a whispez) What in God's nama did you do? uxt PATH BY THE LARE par 103 Mort seranbles up the hilleide on the path by the lake, through the beaten-down bushes on either aide. He's breathing hard, sveating, stumbling, he mast have run all the way from his hous: He reaches the top of the bill, comes out into the clearing at the edge of Lake Drive, and seas it. Tom Greealeaf's Scout, the same cer that drove past the other ay when Greenleaf sav Mort and Shooter talking by the side of the road. Two men are inside the car, one in the driver's seat, the other in back, Weither one is moving. Mort edges closer, starting to hyperventilate Tom Greenleaf is behind the wheel vith his head thrown back -108 19. 02/12/2603 CONTINUED: 103 =~ and 4 scravdriver buried to the nilt in his forehead, above bis right eye. MOR? Oh God... oh my God... oh Jesus... Mort's syas lock onto the screwdriver handle. It's distinctive, @ badly chipped red plastic handle, ths sams screwdriver Hort pulled out of Bump. It's Mort's, Mort's head snaps to get the bad news from the back Ken Relsch in back there, a hatchet planted in the top of his head. His eyes are open. Brains have trickled dovn around his ears and dried, Written along the hatchet's handle in faded but still legible red letters is one word -- RATHEY. Mort stands completely still, not even breathing. The world swims exound him, it slove to a near stop, most sound drains away, and the sounds that don‘t become unnaturally loud. ‘A CHICKADEE calls. A WOODPECRER taps on a tree. A fresbening breexe raises vhitecaps on the lake. There is a rustling sound behind Mort. He wheels around ao fast he almost falls -~ vould have fallen, if he hado’t bad the Scout to lean against. It's a squirrel, it looks dovn at Mort with bright hate from where it's frozen halfwey up the trunk of a maple tres, blazing with red fall flare. Mert stares at the squirrel for ¢ long moment. The squirrel stares back, Sweat runs down Mort's cheek. He's still not breathing. ffe tries to GASP, nothing comes in, his lungs are clenched and expty. ‘FROM MORT'S POINT OF VIEW, the world divides into dozens of neat rectangular boxes, dozens of identical images of the squirre] on the tree, then the images start to move, to tilt up, it's sky, then it's the Boout, then it's the ground, we realize Mort is falling — BACK BY TEE PATH,103 204 $0. 02/22/2603 CONTINUED: (2) 103 -- and bis face SHACKS into the dirt es he loses consciousness. cor To: ext PATE BY THE LAKE DAT. roe Mort opens bis ayaa. Ho's still lying next to the scout, but the sun bas shifted quite a bit. Ha sits up groygily and turns his wrist to look at his vatch. wis eyes are too blurry from sleep, ho squints and pails the watch closer. SHOOTER (0.5.) A quarter past tvo. Mort locks up. Shooter is standing over him, silhouetted by the sun, which is directly behind his head. SHOOTER (cont'd) You bean out about thrae hour. Thought you had a heat stroke, oaly it isn't vumez. Mort tries te get up, but bis right leg is dead weight under him, it buckles and he collapses again. SHOOTER {cont’ 4) You laid on the damn thing, Woulda moved you, but I didn't want te wake you. Mort drags himself back against the Scout, lifts his right leg over his left, and starts pounding on it with his fists, trying to get some blood back into it. SHOOTER (cont’d) Got tired of waitin and almost pinned a ete on you. Decided not to. You seare too easy. xort (sti22 pounding his le I know what'a going on! I know Ted Aired you! saoommER ized me? Somebody Aired me? I aia‘t never worked a day for another man in my life. No sir, like J said right oft, this is between you and ma. mort is frantically hammering on his leg, trying to gat it to function again.@ . 104 CONTINUED: a. 02/12/2003 104 SHOOTER (cont'd) Keep beatin’ on it like that and you'll never walk. Mort starts dragging himself avay from Shooter, across the dirt and to the head of the path, Shooter follows lazily. SHOOTER (cont'd) Wouldn't crawl too far if I vere you. You got yourself soma work to do here. I hooked you to those two wen in more ways than you know. If you leave ‘ex bere and I disappear, Mr. Rainey, you are going to find yourself standing with your head in a nocss and your fest in Crisco. woRE You don't scare me. SHOOTER Zeab, Z do. The only thing is, you're tin to scare me a little, too. I can't quite figure you out. Mort stops dragging himself, realizing its pointlessness. te turns, looks ap at his tormontor, at the end of his rope. ORT What do you vant from ma? Shooter squats in front of Most, SHOOTER (almost kindly) Why, I told yeu that already, mx. Rainey. want you to fix my story. The one you stole, or ain't you ready to admit it yet? MORT {for the thousandth time) 1 aid not... steal... your story. SHOOTER (sighs) No, I expect you'll let yourself go to Greenbaves for murder before you'll admit it. MORT I didn't! 2 didn't! You're crazy, and Z can prove it! (moan)82, 02/12/2003 204 CONSINUED: (2) 104 WORD (cont'd) have the magazine, you lunatic! Do you hear ma?! I have the goddan magazine! The response to this is no response. MORT (cont'd) Did you hear what I said?! SHOOTER (sottiy) You have it? You Lave this so-called magazine? Right nov? ‘MORT Bo. SHOOTER Well, there... wort It's coming ¥edersl Express. ‘11 have dt at three, I can pick it up in tewn at three o'clock, Pick what up? that's supposed to be a copy? wort No. The magazine, The actual magazine, dated 1993, tvo full years before you wrote your story. SHOOTER There can’t be any magazine, Wot with that story in it. That story is mize/ for the first time, there vas something like real anguish in Shooter's voice. ct wORT Three o'clock, I'll meet you at four. Someplace public. SHOOTER Ho, Your house. NORE You'll kill me,63, 02/32/2003 104 CONTINUED: (3) beds @ SHOOTER You? Ho, sizi These others here vere going to get in the vay of cor business. I couldn't bave that... and I figured z could use them to make you face up to your responsibility. That's all. (checks his watch) Your house iz tvo hours. (Jerks a thumb at tha scout) You got some heavy lifting here first. I'd get to it 4f I were you. He stands up te go. SHOOTER (cont'd) By the way... if you talk to that Sheriff of yours again, or if you don't show up at four o'clock... I will burn your life and every person in it like « eanefield in a high wind, You'll go to jail for killing those twe men, but that'll be the least of your sorrows. Understand? @: oe And suppose, just suppose, I show you the magazine, and it has my name cn the contents page and my story inside. What then? SHOOTER (thinks) Then I turn wyself in. But I'11 take care of myself before a trial, Mr. Rainey. Becausa if things turn out that way, than I suppose I am crazy. kind of ‘crazy man... that kind py wan has ne excuse or reason to Be starts to walk away, then turns back with one last thought. SHOOTER (cont ‘d) Listen, you got my hat. ‘21 want it, ‘one way or the other. and he disappears dovn tha lake path. Mort tusne, shaking, and locke at the Scout and the dead wea in dt, Prom down the road, be hears the EUM of a car engine, seen sunlight gliating off the windshield of an approaching car.104 108 106 aa. 02/12/2003 CoMTINUED: (4) 104 He slithers back onto the incline, out of sight except for his eyes. The car ZIPS past, takes no notice of the scout and its lifeless occupants, Mort tekes 2 deep breath. A MOMENT LATER (PATH BY THE LAKE}, 105 we're looking at the door handle of the Scout. Mort's trembling hand, wrapped in his shirt tail, reaches out and opens it slowly, revealing Tom Greenleaf‘s corpse in the front seat. Mort stands there, breathing bard. First things first, that soravdriver's gotta come out of bis head, Mort tries to gat himself between Tom and the steering wheel, but there isn't room. Ws reaches down, to the electric seat adjustor, and pushes it tovard the back. The seat HUMS back, sliding Tom along with it. In back, Xen Kelech shifts, turning towsrd Mort abruptly. Mort gHOUTS and jumps back, ha’s still alive! But Kelsch stops, and Kort takes another look. No way he's alive with 2 hatchet in bis head. Mort pushes the seat lever Nov there's room for Mort to get between Greenleaf and the ateoring vheel. He wedges himself in, lays 2 forearm against Greenleaf's chest, closes his free hand around the screwdriver -- mont I'm sorry, Tom. w> and given it an almighty yank. Just aa the screvdriver starts to slide out with a WET CRUNCH -— CUR 0: mar QUARRY Dar 106 The bloody screwdriver and the ae, both with éried human matter dclling their Blades, Iie on the ground, removed from their victims. Mort stands beside the Scout now, its driver's door closed. Wa're ina dif: t location, also abandoned. The Scout ie running and Mort is reaching through the driver‘a window, patting bis hands on the wheel.es. 02/12/2003 106 106 CONTINUED: Btraining, he reaches over and puts the thing in drive. the car's parked on a slight hillside and it starts to roll. xort walks alongsids, keeping up with it, steering it straight ahead. to jog ~~ It picks up speed and Mort bi == toward the edge of # sheer rock face. The sparkling waters of an abandoned quarry are visible far below. The Scout moves faster still, it'll make it over the edge on its own and Mort 1s just about to pull himself out when the caz goes over a bump and fom Greenieat’s body pitches forward over the wheel, Tom's a beavy guy, and his veight and evkverd posture pin Mort's arms where they are. The HORM begins to blare. The scout moves faster nov, Mort is running to keep up with the rolling, bumping, HONKING thing. Mort yanks his arms as bard as he can and manages to shove Greenleaf's body back off him, but the open part of the cuff of Mort's overshirt slips over the gear shift lever. Mort ds running as fast as he can, struggling like hell to tree his arm, now stuck by his shirt to the gear shift, The car's bounciag along fast, Hort's feet litt off the ground, he's running out of real estate fast, he's going over with the God denn thing. He gives his arm one vicious pull, half the threads in the button at the end of bis sleeve RIP out, the other half stay put, the Scout's front tires are just 6 few feet avay from the edge of the rock face -- he oan == -— Kort HAULS his arm back as hard > the final threads RIP tree, the button pops off — <= but so does Mort's wristwatch, vhich falls to the floor of the Scout, the engraved words “I LOVE YOU, ANY” glittering in the sun «= -- and Mort stops abruptly, windmilling bis arms et the very edge of the earth as the Scout tips over the edge and plummets two hundred feet, SPLASHING into the water. Mort watches as the Scout bubbles and bobs and disappears into the deep-bottomed black quarry waters below. cur To:@- 107 INT = CABIN - LIVING ROOM DAY 208 86. 02/12/2003 ‘The clock on the wall in Mort's cabin -~ it's ten to thr On the coffes table, the phone RINGS. It's in the foreground, big. after three ringa, Mort bursts through the door in the background, dumps his shirt, grabs his wellet, bis car keys fron the hook (they're there this time) asd heads back for the door. But through it all, the phous keeps RINGING. In the deorway in ‘the background, Mort stops, thinks. RING. RING. RING. Somebody sure is insistent. Mort turns, is dt bie? Me CURSES and edges over to the phone. woRD Hello? IME (0.8.) Mort? oR? {mouths the word) shit, (aloud) RL. ust TRD'S APARTMENT DAY 108 Any ia sitting on the edge of a bod in s man's bedroom, a room we bavent seen before. She's been crying, stil? is. she speaks softly, casts the oconsional lock to the bedroam door, which is clo Le aay Mort, 1... I've been wo worried about you. Mort rolls bis eyes, looks ever at the clock on the wall. Mort I'm okay, Any. ANY Are you eure? When I saw you I thought you locke: I mean, I knew you trained, but. {a new thought) Do you... Kort, do you...eo. < 108 CowrzuunD: 87. 02/12/2003 108 MORT What? ane Do you think things would have been Qifterent 1f we'd had children? moRT Jesus, I don't know, Amy. Look, can Z eall you later? I gotta be someplace. He glances at his vrist to chack the time, but his watch is gone. He's puszied, but doesn't have time to think about it, as Amy starts to cry. ‘Mort sighs and sits on the edge of the coftes table. More crying. sniffling. Please God, let me out of this conversation. woRT (cont‘d) What is it? koR? (cont'd) Take a breath. HORT (cont'd) Are you at Ted's? Anz Yes. oR? {knows he shouldn't, can't help it) How do you feel about him, these days? ae I love him. woRT Right. any I didn’t go with other men. I've always wanted to tell you that, I didn't go with other men. Cnly Ted. And eniy the last few months, when you nd me were... when it was over already.108 109 ano 8. 02/12/2003 cownzwunD: (2) 108 HORT If ve ware “over” whan we wore still together, you might have mentioned it. Because it was fuckin news to me. AME That's because you weren't there anymore, You were gone so much. mot What are you talking about? 2 worked at home, for Christ's sake. aur That's not vhat I mean. Sven when you were with ma, you were gone. Up in your head. You used to joke about it, you'd tap the side of your bead, “Going Up to the attic, honey, see you in a few days." ‘That was no joke. 1 don't think I looked into your syes and sav you looking back at as, really with me, for the last two years. NORE Yeah, it's all my fault. aur Mo, I was a coward, ‘Ted wanted us to yo and tell you together. He kept taking, and I kept putting bin ote, I'll never forget the lock on your face when you opened the door of that motel voom. I'll carry that to my grave. Mort closes his eyes to try to hold off the memory, but good lock with that ~- INT = MOTEL ROOM = DAWH 209 We're back in that motel roca ve saw at the beginning, bursting through the door, firat person Mort. We see Any and Ted in bed, fumbling tor the sheets, but this tine ve ses a little bit more, we spin around and see Mort's face, and it's twisted and pained and angry, really angry, but it’ @ flash and than we're -- mt CABIN - LIVING ROOM Day 210 > back in the living roam, where Mort forces his eyes open, Wiping out the unpleasant menory-novie playing on his eyclids. wort I gotta go.e 83. 02/12/2003 120 CONTINUED: 110 duty can't we- wort Wo, I really gotta go. aur Witl you call if you need ma? woRT ZX doubt it. ar Can I come up there? wORT Why on earth would you do that? anr (pause, then blurts it out) You still’ haven't signed the papers, Mort. I know you don't want to deal with dt, I didn't vant to either, but come on. Everything's been negotiated, we don't disagree about « thing, = don't understand why. you're refusing to sign, Don’t you want it over with? Mort shakes bis head -- so that’s why the phone call. wort You're “worried about me." And I belicve you. What an idiot. any You sound that way, nd like you did six go and it's my fault, I think it’s my fault and I wieh I conld take it back but- MORE I guess you shouldn't have fucked him, then, He BANGS the phone down. 241 INf 9 TED'S APARTMENT = DAY ana Any sits with har hand on the phone, staring at it. Making « decision, she gets up and goes to the dresser, Sha shoves the sheaf of divorce papers into her purse and turns toward the door, fed is standing in the doorway.02/12/2003 aaa 90. 121 compINoED: mxD C You'ze not going up there? ANY 1 don't want to dance around it anymore, once he sigas it'll be over with and we won't have to have these horrible conversations every other day. She leaves the room. He follovs. 1120 IRT ‘LIVING ROOM DAT 112 Any scoops her car keys off 4 table near the front door. TED I'LL go with you. to gat his jacket and ve notice bis right band is Re go : heavily bandaged. aor : I'd rather go by myself. . TD ax You threv a pusch at him, Ted, You , vent up to get a simple signature and came back with broken hand. If you walk through bis door with me, just the sight of you in gonna send him off. Ted can see the truth in that. She pute a hand on his cheek. aMY (cont'd) I was married to'the guy for ten years. I know how to talk to him, 7 just want te get this over with. That's all he wants. Bring things to an end. ™ Be careful. any (Kisses him) I'L] be back tonight. And she's gone. Ted tosses bis cont over « chair and stares at (e the closed door, thinking. cur To:14 gt. 02/12/2003 3 ExT POST OFFICE DAY 23 A Federal Express truck ROARS past, revealing Mort's car, parked outside the post office, Mort is inside it, staring at the deperting truck. He looks at the post office. Doesn't want to goin. Is desperate to go in. Om THE STREET, Mort's car door slems. As he starts across the street toverd the building, « VOICE calls to him. He turns. Down the block, bs sees Dave Newsome, ths Sheriff he spoke to earlier, gesturing to him. Nort looks around, not nov, Dave. Is Shooter watching him? He waves back to Newsoxe and keeps walking, pretending he dogen't hear the sheriff's "hold up a sec.” He hurries up the steps of the building. IN POST OFFICE = DAY. ne The post office is nearly empty, but an innocuous government building never seened so menacing. At the far end, there's & single clerk behind the counter, JULIET STOXER, mid-thirtie: born, bred and will die in Tashmore Lake. She looks right at us, smiles as vo float up to her counter. Bho says something to us, but ve don't bear it, just seo her lips move. She furrows hez brow, worried about us. She speaks again, this tine we heer her: guna Mr. Rainey? Are ‘you all right? Mort clears his throat, collects himself. xORT Sorry, Juliet. My throat kind of double-clutchad on me for a second. gue You're very pa. She frowas, not sure what to do with him, as if he's a slightly imitating child prodigy whe needs special care and feeding, Mort steadies himself, gripping the couater.92. 02/12/2003 114 CONTINUED: ne eo HORT Something I ate last night, I guess. Did Federal Express leave anything for mar JOLIET Mo, not a thing. Mort's fingers squeeze the counter ferociously, turning white. xoR? Pardon me? JOLIE? {already turning away} Just the one thing, I said. Bhe pulls a package off the back rack and slides it across the counter to him, its bright red and bine Fed Ex lettering like a Lighthouse in a storm. HORT {sighs in relief) i Thank you. JULIET @ Welcoas. You know, the post office would have & cow if thay knew we handle that Federal Express man's mail. wort Well, I certainly appreciate it. Ho picks up the package and resists the urge to tear it open on the spot. JULIET You won't tell them, vill you? Mort forces a smile and a grisly wink. ORT Bo way. coer dood. Mort turns and heads for the door. GULIET (cont'd) ic Because I say what you did.eo 4 1s 116 uy 93. 02/12/2003 CONPINUED: (2) 14 MORT stops) Pardon we? JULIET I said they'd shoct mo if you did. You ought to go hone and lie dowa, Mr. Rainey. You really den't look well at all. MORT ‘That's not such a bad idea. iis ext POs? OFFICE Dar Mort comes out of the post office and stops. He flips the package cver to open it but stops, noticing TWO WOMEN staring at him. One of them vhispers something to the other, the second one laughs, the first one SHUSHES her. Mort hurries toward his car. INT ‘MORT'S CAR pay Hort slides bebind the wheel of his car, SLAMS the door. Once again he's about to open the package -- =- when there's a KHOCE at his passenger door. He leaps a foot, locks over, sees Dave Hevsoue eniling at him, bent down, looking through the passenger window. DAVE NEWSOME Biya! Got « minute? 116 Mort tosses the still-unopened Tod Zx package on the passenger west as if it were communicable MORT Can't right now, Dave! Give you « call in a biti Mort drops the car in gear and pulls avay. zx? STREET = DAY. uy Deve Wewsome straightens, watching Mort's car drive avy. cur to: INT TED'S APARMONT = DAY 118 Ted ia sitting in a chair in his apartment, anxious as hell.5 aie aig 120 a4. 02/12/2003 conrimueD: aie Making a decision, be bolts to his feet, grabs his jacket off the chair and his car keys off a desk, and races out the sane door Amy went out. cur To: EXT CABIN - DRIVEWAY DAY uy Mort's Buick skids and CRUNCHES to a stop in the gravel driveway of bis cabin, mt MORT'S CAR DAT. 2120 Yinally, a moment of peace. Mort picks up the Fed Ex package and holds it in his hands, determined to open it thie tine. But as he starts to tura it over, @ soft grayness comes over his vision. Things dall, band, darken. He tries to blink it avay, his lids close for just a second —— and then it's gone. Whole thing only took three or four conds. ‘That's odd. Okay, no more bullshit. Mort flips the Fed Ex envelope over in hie hands, reaches for the tear strip + and finds it half pulled off. The packages has already been opened. wort ? + the fuck. Be rips the taar strip:the rest of the way eff. He turns the envelope upside dovn and a magazine drops inte his lap. sllery Queen's Mystery Magazing, the logo says in bright red letters. Beneath that, io mch smaller type, June, 2993. NOR? (cont'd) 1993. Alloving himself a grim smile, he flips it open, leoking for the contents page. WORT (cont’d) contents... He flips back and forth, can't find it. He goes back to the beginning, where the page ought to be, and finds a thin strip of paper in the magazine's gutter. He thinks ha knows what that means. With growing alarm, he thumbs frantically through the magazine, dropping it once and picking it up with « little czy of desperation.e- ~ 95. 02/12/2003 120 120 corrmuED: q2t On the second pass through be looks more carefully. MoRT (cont'd) 80, 92, 82 -- He flips to the next page, sees the number on it. MoRT {cont'd} 98. 82 again, And in the margin ds the sliced 83 to 97 have been cut out. MORT {cont ’d) you con rx ort He BANGS his fist down on the steering wheel, again and again and again. Be goes back a page. off evidence that pag moRT (cont ‘d) You out it out, son of @ bitch! How did you do that?/ You cut it out, you cat it out, you out 12 out! Mort hears a voice from inside the car, a familiar voice. His own voice. INNER VOICE {0.8} How would he do that? ‘MoRT I don't know, He did it though. IMMER VOICE (0,8.) Okay. (pause) How? MORT I DON'T xwow! axT CABIN - DRIVEWAY, DAE 124 The car door opens and Mort climbs out, stepping on a bundle of white printed pages right beneath the driver's window. stalke aczoss the driveway toward the house. The voicl ain, THWER VOICE (0.8.) Tt dooen't make sen: shat up.221 122 123 36. 02/22/2003 ComTINUED: aaa He vinces as an image flickere through his aind: MORT'S MENTAL IMAGE (MOTEL ROOK) da that sane scena from the motel room, the one we've seen tvice before, his point of vie in on Amy and Ted, then the camera whips around, face, and it's fierce with anger. We see for the first tims he's holding something in one hand. But before we can sea what it is -- ueT CABIN - LIVING ROOM DAY 433 Mort BANGS through the deor and drops onto the couch, center cushion, arms folded acrose his che! Yet again, he finds himself face to face with -- Still sitting on his coffee table. waiting 122 =- Shooter's hat. for him. Mert site forward. This tine he picks 4t up. He looks at it carefully. - And then, for no reason whatsoever and without @ moment's thought -- -- he puts it on. He shudders once, the way you do at « smooth: mouthful of strong liquor. But that passes. is the brim. It fits quite well, ectually. ACROSS THE: ROOM, the mizror over the entry table fills with Mort as he stands up, hat on bis head, and walks forvard. He positions himself in fxont of the mirror. the bet completely covers his hair and just touches the tops of his eer Inner Voice speaks up again -- quiet, gently prodding. THWER VOICE (0.8.) Why'd you put it ‘on? xoRT Mort I don't know. INWER VOICE [0.8.) Maybe he wanted you to. At this moment, we're looking at Mort straight on. We start to move, to creep around hin to bis right side. NORT Why would he want me te put on bis hat? TMNER VOICE (0.8.) Maybe he wants you to...e* 123 97. 02/22/2003 compisuzD: 123 MORT Yeah? ttle auto a full profile. Mert turns and looks ‘ox the first time. mORT (cont'd) Wants me to vhat? Wo anavar. We directly at us in slowly from the side af the frame and whispers ear -~ it's Mort's face. Mort's Inner Voice has been ‘Iwo Mort, A fase nove da Mort given body, More‘s body. Same guy, same clothes. aide by side. ‘Talk about talking to yourself. DIWER VOICE sss to get confused. MORT T'm already confused, Pilgrim. Bo sooner is that last word out of his mouth than he wishes he could snatch it back out of the air. He whisks Shooter's hat off his head and tosses it into « corner. amen vorcE Yeah, Yeah, what about that? moRT What shout what? INSER vorcE “Pilgrin.” Rather than answer, Kort turns and stalks out of the room. We go with him (sane shot) as he passes the steiroase, vhere his Inner Voice is now leaning against the railing. IMMER VOICE [cont’d) “shooter's Rnob.* Mort reaches the kitchen door but stops, as his Inner Voice is already lnaning against it. IMMER VOICE (cont'd) Balt a dozen other details you've bean ignoring. Mort just stares at bia, breathing hard. The Voice takes a step forward. They are nose to nose, both suddenly quite calm. IMMER VOICE (cont'd) Are all of these things coincidences?& e* 38, 02/12/2003 123 123° comEINUED: (2) ‘MORT (defensive) I'm wearing his bruises, aren't I? The Inner Voice dossn't answer, just holds bis sye. WORT (cont'd) Aren't IF WER VOICE Axe you? Mort rips his shirt off angrily, rotates his arms out, goes to the exact spot where the bruises were yesterday. But ‘now they're not thers. NORE It donen't... searches, pavs his flesh. NoRT (cont'd) ‘Tt doesn't make sense! IuteR VOICE Wevld you like to hear something that does make sense? Actually, no, Mort would rather not. He turns and heads for the door, reaches for the keys on the hook -- =- bat the Inner Voice is there ahead of him, leaning against ‘ths wall next to the hook. INWER VOICE (cont'd) Call the police. Mort turns te the front door but it RANGS shut ahead of hin, his Inner Voice is leaning against it. TMWER VOICE (cont'd) Call Dave Hevsone and tell him to coms down here and lock you up, MOR? If I could get a knife and cut you out of me... He turns away, but the Inner Voice is right bebind him, INNER VOICE Before you can do any more damage.e*% 123 126 125 93. 92/12/2003 cownrwurD: (3) 323 HORT I'm warning youl 4n -- Inner Voice is thare too. All around him now, wherever he turns before he even turns there. IMMER VOICE Before you kill anyone else. woRT I'LL KILL Foo! But suddenly the Inner. Voice is gons, and Mort is standiag alone in the empty living zoom, chest heaving, screaming at the wells. He holds his head in pain, because here comes another mental image, and this one’s a doosy: MORT'S MENTAL IMAGE (MOTEL ROOM) 126 is that shot in the motel room, the startled lovers, the enraged hanband, Mort holding somathing, ‘and for the first time we see at it’ te. 4 gun. Held in front of him in a shaking hand, and now we understand why Amy and Ted weren‘t just shocked and embarrassed and upset, they vere terrified, because Mort is SCREAMING at them, RAVING like a lunatic, waving thet gun around, shoving it between Ted's teeth, snarling and spitting and completely out of control. It ‘LIVING ROOM DAY 125 Mort shakes bis head to chase avay the memory. MORT Tt was unloaded. Phe Inner Voice is in his ear, it circles him now, walking around and around him in ever-tightening circles, always in his ear, inches avay no matter where Mort turns. INNER VOICE Was it? MORT est INNER VOICE Wag it, Nort? MOR? I told them:e- 125 COWTINUED: 100. 02/12/2003 125 INNER VOICE Was it really unloaded? HORT any believed xe. ‘INNER VOICE You almost killed them, You wanted to. Mone ‘The gun was HOT loaded! TBHBR VOICE You sti11 want to. MORT Shut up! THNER VOICE dsten to me. Because this is how it happens. ‘This is how it happens to people. HORT shut upt INNER VOICE There ts no John shooter. MORT wo! IWMER VOICE There never has been, KORT I do not scoapt that! INGER VOICE You invented bis. wort I do not accapt that at alll TMIER VOICE Listen to me, not to him, Before it's toe late, before you~ NORT SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!oa. 02/12/2003 125 CONRINDED: (2) 1s @ Be picks up a heavy ashtray -- « dog standing over a large marble basin that's supposed to be for the cigarette butts, go figure -- and buris it at the Inner Voice os herd as he can. But of course the Inner Voice is gone before Mort aven releases and the ashtray SMASHES into the vall just over the entry table. Tt puts a large dent in the plaster and opens up a crack. It's a emall crack that originates in the middle of the crease made by the ashtray, Sut as Mort watches -- -- the orack grows. It er all the way up the wall, CRUNCHING the plastez apart as it grows, Before Mort's wondering eyes, the crack creeps across the ceiling ever his head, zig-zagging ita lightaing bolt way right down the center of the room, diractiy abeve Kort, and finally crawling down the fax wall, ending in the corner where he has thrown Shooter's hat, now resting cock-eyed against the wall. Mext stands very still in the middle of the room, staring at the hat. HORT (cont'd) What is happening to me? ea: He turns around, catches sight of himsalf in the mirror, and GASPS in horror -- . -- because Shooter's hat 12 on his head again. Be whips it off and hurls it across the room, The hat skips twice off the floor, and comes to a atop in the doorvay of the sendy ~~ > where John shooter is leaning against the doorjam. Ha picks up the hat and twirls it lightly on one finger, smoking a Pall Mall with his tres hand. MORT (cont'd) (backing away) You don't axi SHOOTER Ob, I exiet, Mr. Rainey. Mort backs right inte the wall. shooter advances on him. BBOOTER (cont‘d) T exist bacause you made me, You Thought me up. Gave me my name, Told me everything you wanted me to do.125 126 127 228 129 130 102. 02/12/2003 ComrINVED: (3) 125 Mort is horrified, holding his head as the truth pours into bis conacdousnat we flashes of his thoughts as Shooter talks: HZT = AMY'S HOUEE wigeT 4126 (Thie image and #11 the flashback images that follow fly by fast, fractured and jarring.) We'xe looking through the windew of Mort's study again, the one at the house in Riverdale, before it burned down. We see Shooter's shadow om the wall, thet crazy hat. But we're closer this time, and in a flash of light ve see Shooter's taca below the hat, but of course it isn't Shooter's face at ail but Nort's face, Moxt burned dovn the house. ner CABIN = STUDY par 127 Shooter is drawing closer. SHOOTER You had a job of work needed doing. 128 EXT) «=—-sBOWTE'S STORE DAY A shot we haven't seen before, it's xorning on Main Street, and Ken Kelsch is walking toward the front door of Bowie's Btore when Kort eteps out from a docrvay and intercepts him. RELSCE Thought wo said nine? xoRT I called Tom, He said to pick hin up. Ter = CABIN - STUDT par 129 Shooter's closer still. SHOOTER Didn't have the stemach to de it yourself. But you knav I did. INT GREEWLEAF'S CAR DAY 130 Tom Greenleaf, alive again, is driving bis scout, Xen Xelsch is in back, Mort’ is in the passenger seat. MORT Right up there, fom! We were standing rdgbt the:130 131 132 133 134 135 136 103. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: 130 GREENLEAF (sick about this} I know, Mort, I sav you. I didn't want to say it in front of hia -- (Jerks 2 thumb back at Kelsch) -- but yeu were alan rar TOM'S CAR {PLASHBACK) par 131 Yeo Ton's point of view, we're driving down Lake Drive on that sunny day. We see a figure up ahead, standing by the side of the road -- it's Mort, standing there by himself. Tom waves to him, Mort tips a fingar back at him in that practiced, country way. Is? TOM'sS CAR DAT. 132 Mort laughs disarningly at Tom's nervousness. ORT I know, I can explain, Just pull over. As Greenleaf turns the wheal, we drop down next to Mort's leg and see his fingers close around the handle of tha hatchet, the one thet will soon be buried in Ken Xelsch’s neaa. Int CABIN = STUDY DAY 133 Shooter is right in cur face. SHOOTER I did them things so you wouldn't have to. axT LAKE DRIVE pay 134 Outside the Scout nov, we sea Mort whip around from the front seat and SMACK the hatchet down in the middle of Xen Kelsch's ekull, We hear Tom Greenleaf's horrified SHRIEX, but it's abruptly cut off as Mort turas to him a split-second later and drives the screvdriver home in the middie of his forehead. TT CABIN - BATEROOH BIGHT 135 In the shower in his cabin, Mort cleans up, blood swirls down the drain, iat CABIN ~ LIVING ROOM pay 136 Mort avakens, stretches, grabe bit arns and back, can't believe how unbelievably aore he is. Now we know why.. 137 Ty caBIB|- STUDY = DAY. lod. 92/12/2008 at Shooter emiles. SHOOTER offhand, I'd sey you're the one don’t exist. ‘Not anypore, Not really. HORT What do you want? SHOOTER You tell me. Am I done yet? We got things all cleaned up around here? (no answer) Do we? noRT I don‘t know! SHOOTER Think on it. What's the real reason I come for? NORT ix your story. BHOOTER That's right. 7 ORT Fix the ending. SHOOTER And how exactly do you suppose you eaghta do that? Outside, they hear the sound of tires on gravel. They both turn in time -- -- to Thay look at Mort takes 8 standing, 30 any'a car drive past the front door. each other.” SHOOTER (cont'd) *rodd Downey thought that a woman who would steal your love whan your love was really a1 you had was ‘not auch of 2 woman.“ atep straight forward, but that's where shooter is when he moves ahead ——@. @> 105. 02/12/2003 137 237 CONTINUED: 138 w- be passes right through Shooter, whose inage falls all to pieces, but they're sticky pieces, and they dissolve and cling to Mort at the same tine, it's like walking through a spiderved, Shooter is gone. or maybe Shooter was right, and Mort's the one who's gons. Because when Mort finishes Shooter's quotation, he ia speaking with shooter's voice and moving with his manneriams. Be is Shooter, mor? “He therefore decided te k111 her.“ He turns and looks st the mirror agein, and from this angle he can wee the driveway, and Amy's car parked in it. Wa move ‘toward the mirror, fast, then we go through the mirror and zoor in on Amy and in that seme shot wa find ourselves Ex? caBIM pat 138 o> out in the driveway ax Any SLAMS the door of her car. she takes one step and stops, her attention canght by something in the drivevay. It's a sock, Part of it is a rusty red color. odd. she looks up from it. a Mort? Mo answer, She starts walking tovard the cabin. Up ahead, some white pages axe fluttering on the drivevay next to Mort's car. She stoops down, picks one up, It's page 63 of Ellery Queen's Mystezy Magazine, lying right where Mort dumped it after he cut it ont of his ova magazine. It's a short stery: Sowing Season short fiction by Morton Rainey That's weird. Amy doesn't lite it. She lets go of the page, it flaps away in the light breeze, Wow she really takes in the view of the cabin, and there are a few more details that aren't quite the way we've been seeing them. The screen door, for example, which is hanging from ons broken hinge. Anda single shoe sitting on the front step of the cabin, gust go with the sock in the driveway. Any passes the garbage cabinet and hears flies BUZZING. she locks over at the spot where Sump had been pinned to the wood.138 139 206. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: ze Bo Bump, of course, Mort did bury ber, but the wood is stained, big dark red chunks of deg stuck to it, flies feeding on it. With a growing sense of alarm, Any steps up to the screan door and peers through. AMT (cont'd) Mort? (no answer) You home? Btill no answer, she puts a hand on the door ~~ rer CABIN ~ LIVING ROOM par 139 wy and steps inside, She stops, locking around the room in abook, ‘The outsdde of the house vas a moss, but inside is a dinaster. Half-eaten "meals* ara on plates around the room, ths flies are feasting on those too. The ashtray with the dog on it ia boris im the wall, where it hes started 4 small crack, about a foot long. The trash can is full and bas overflowed onto the floor. Paper is littered everywhere, It looks as if Mort has ezhuned vary copy of avery manuscript he had in the place and strewn tha pages around the room, ta short, the room looks nothing like it.did two minutes ago, when ve were looking at it through Mort's ayes. But as we now know, those are very unrelisble eyes indeed. Worst of all, evarywhere, everywhere is one word. The word iz SHOOTER. It's written on the walls in chalk and ink, it's sprayed on the window twice in what looks lixe dried whipped cream -- and there's the Redi-Whip can on the floor under the window to prove dt. “Shooter” is written on the stair railings in pencil, neat columns stecked on top of each other like addition problem. It's even carved into the cherry wood coffee table in great Jaga feet high, like s gsoteaque declaration of ‘The scravdriver he used to do the carving is lying on the tabletop. It's 2 tamiliar-looking screwdriver, with a zed chipped handle, and dried red stuft on its steel shaft. we've sean this screwdrivar before. ‘Twice. AMY {a whisper) Mort?@ 139 140 107. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: 139 She hears a sound. She turns, looks in the direction of Mort's study, The door is closed again. She walks tovard 4t, kicking the issue of Filery Queen ca the floer oa the way. She dasen't sotic She puts # band on the docr te the study and pushes it open. Ter caBIM - STUDY par 140 The door swings vide and Amy takes a step into the study. The first thing she notices im Mort's computer moniter, which has been swept off the desk and is lying on its side on the floor, where 1¢ imploded, On the desk in its place is an old Royal typevriter. A typed eaouscript is neatly stacked on top of it, Amy takes a quick look around the room and walks toward it -- <> passing Mort, who is standing just behind the door, hands folded primly behind his buck, Shooter‘s hat perched atop his head. She doesn't notice. And be doesn't move. Auy crosses the room te the desk and cones around behind it, peering down at the manuscript. The title pege is on top: Secret Window, Secret Gardex by John Shooter Amy stares at it, puzzled. ay (a mutter) Joba shooter... 7 oes “Shooter® is also written on the walis of the walls in a nearly straight line. She follows the line, but as she nears the end of it, the last one doesa‘t say “Shooter" anymore, somehow it has evolved into tvo words, two words that are right over Mort's hi SHOOT HER Amy GASPS, seeing Mozt and the words et the sane tine, he's scared as hell, tries to sound normal, teils. Any (cont‘a) mL, He doesn't reply, just starea at her.140 aa 142 108. 02/22/2003 CONTINUED: 140 She looks at the bat. AHY (cont'd) Where'd you find thet old thing? the attier Be still doesn't answer, but his face twitches, and as it twitches, we a thought that flashes through his mind: ial uxt RUMMAGE SALE pay Mort, younger, is at a rumage sale in the country with Amy. se puts the hat on, turns around to face her, smiling. we affects @ Southern accent, sounds just like Shooter. xeRT Time to plant the north forty, ma'am. mst CABIN - STUDT DAE 142 ‘The flinch goos away as Mort banishes the menory. He miles. A Shooter senile. He speaks softly, as Shooter. od It's mp hat, Wasn't evar azybody . ae Mort? What's wrong? What's Mort You got you a wrong number, woman. Ada't no Mort bere. Mort's dead. Be did a lot of squirmin around, but in the end be couldn't lis to hinselt anymore, let loue to me. I never pat a band on him, Mra. Rainey. I swear. Ne took the covard's way out. Amy looks around the room. One door, and Mort's standing right next to it. ar Why are you talking that vay? oR Tis is just the way I talk. Bvarybody down in Miva‘ippi telks this way. any Mort, stop itl109. 02/12/2003 142 CONTINUED: 142 wort Don't you understand vbat I said? You ain't deaf, are you? He's dead. He killed himseld, xr [starting te cry) You're scaring ma... HORT Don't matter. He takes his hands out from bebind his back, In one of then he holds a peir of scissors. xoRt (contd) {walking towsrd her) You won't be scared long. She etays still for a moment, in totel disbelief, but then snaps out of it. She bolts for the door. Mort lunges tovard her, bringing the scissors dowa in a silver =-_ but his foot slips on the loose papers on the floor and bi falls, missing her by a few inches. ‘The blades stab into the hardwood floor, right through page nine of “Secret Window, Secret Garden.” Mort's mouth BANGS off the floor and sprays blood. A half- sucked package of Pall Malle shoots out of his shirt pocket and slides across the wooden floor. Moxt yanks the scissors from the floor and gats up on his knees, sailing and snerling through the blood running over his lips and teeth. MORE (cont ’d) Won't do you no help, Mrs. Rainey! Me checks the scissors, sees their blunted tips, and tosses thea MoRT (cont'd) E got a place for yout Z got it all picked out! We walks ont the door after her.@- 143 1a Lio. 7 02/12/2003 BxT CABIN ~ DRIVEWAT DAY 143 down the front steps of the cabin and to her car. She Any raci SLAMMING down the locks. throws open the door and leaps inside, Through the passenger window, we see Mort valk calmly out of the house after her, she fumbles for ber Kays, pewing for the right ona. Mort walks toward the car, bending down when be gets near it, just out of our sight, below the window line. aay jana the Xey in the ignition -- += Mort stands up next to the passenger windew -- “= Amy turns the key and the angine ROARS to life -- == and Nort SMASHES the houlder he picked up through the passenger window. fo Amy's credit, she doesn't scream, doasn’t lot herself get distracted. sho reaches over for the gear shift {it's a stick shift) and starts to jam it into reverse. But Mort lunges through the window and grabs hold of that hand, gets her hard by the wriet. agy fights him, shoves the cer into reverse anyway. tho car starts to move, but Mort's half in it, and he's got both hands on bez now. amy shoves « foot down on the gas, Mort pulls her with all his strength —~ ~- and hauls her right out through the broken passenger window as the car rolls away. Mow Amy SCREAMS as her legs rake over the jagged broken glass in the window frame. She THUDS to the ground on the gravel dzivevay as her cer rolls in a broad, backward semi-cizc SLAHING ags-end into a trae and coming te a stop. INT CABIN ~ LIVING ROOK DAY 144 Mort BANGS through the screen door of the cabin, dragging Any behind him, a firm grip on her hair. She's half-cravling, trying to step bim or at least keep up, it hurts like heli. table and grabs the screwdriver, the one Mort reaches the coffe ‘Tom Greenleaf.5 14a ws 02/22/2003 44 ua. CONTINUED: ‘HORT (atd22 shooter) Be still, will you. He knocks her over onto her back, raises the screwdriver, and brings it down, Amy SBRIEKS and rolls avey ~~ == but the screwdriver buries in her calf. Row she SCREAMS. fe pulls the blede oot and she rolls over, crawling avay from him fest. MoRT (cont'd) Mo, ma'am, He grabs her by the ankle. mont (cont'd) Ho, wa'an. Any svings her other leg around hard and connects with his nose, breaking it with « wet SWAP. He turns and looks back at her as blood runs down bis lip. MORT {cont’d) I'm about done fussin with you. She drags herself to her fest and races toward the back door. Her right loafer, filling with blood, SQUELCHES and EMOOCHES on her foot, Bhe hits the sereen door with both hands -- ext CABIN - LAKE SIDE DAY M5 -- and staggers out into the back yard. Mort flies out the door behind her and SLAMS into her; a hard tackle. she hits the ground on her stomach, all his weight on her, and the air WHOOSHES out of her. Mort climbs off of her and flips her over. She's GASPING, the vind knocked out of her, unable to breathe for the moment, eortainly unsble to stand. Mort gets up, looks around ~~ vz, gid seabs the sbovel out of the pile of dirt im the back yard, moar I am sorry, Missus. Hone of this vas my idea. it w - Rainey all along.@- Liz. 02/12/2003 145 CONTINUED: as AMY (deaperate for air) ‘cause right ds right. and fair is fair. He comes over and straddles her, holding the shovel in both hands. aur xou are... yor And something has got to be done. aur You are Mort Rainey... woRT I got @ place for you. Be hefts the shovel. AMY You are Hort Rainoy. wORT I got dt all picked out. He zaisas the shovel over bis bead, about to bring it down on xy YOU ARE NORD RAINEY! (If we're Listening carefully at this point, ve might have just heard car tires on gravel.) AME (cont'd) YOU ARS MORT RAINSY/ YOU ARE NORT RAINEY! ‘The shovel lovers, slightly at first. Mort's brow fur: trying like Amy's tone chan hell. » becomes more soothing, she ANY (cont'd) You are Mort Rainey. Your name is Mort Rainey,145 145 02/12/2003 us cowrryump: (2) ‘The shovel lowers evan more, Mort's thinking like crazy nov, even cocking his head like a dog. amy (cont'd) Say it. Your name, Mort Rainey. ‘he shovel lowers even more, he's holding it across his waist now. Ie this it? gas she done it? Seve her words reached bis At that very moment, we bear THOMDERING FEET inside the hous, wa see the octline of a man racing through the house, he calls out a name, we recognise the voice -~ ‘TED (0.8.} aur?! =- and the back screen door BANGS open and Ted comes berraling outside, just in time to mast —~ == ORT'S #40VEL, vbich he brings across his chest in « tuo hundred and seventy degree baseball swing that catches Tad full in the face Mo, Amy's vords did not reach Mort. Re was juet listening. Ted flies off his fest and lands on bis back on the stairs, SHAPPING two vertebrae. Amy SCREAMS. she watches an, in a flash, Mort is standing over Ted, raising the shovel again, this tima like a long-handled axe over his head, and he brings it down on Ted's head, We don't see the death blow, but Ted's heed sounds pretty much you'd think it would, like an overripe watermelon. Amy SCREAMS one more time, for good measure. Mort turns to her, da no moed to fuck around any longer, he walks tovard her and raises the shovel up over his head and hesitates, just holding it up there, over his head, deciding whether or not to end this thing, and in that instant of indecision everything gos: BLACK. uxt BOWIE’S STORE DAY 146 Downtown Tashmore Lake on a lovely fall day. The leaves have changed, so a few months must have gone by, Mort‘a Buick parks in front of Bowis's Store.e* 146 1a? ada. 02/12/2003 conrinveD: 6 Mort climbs cut and heads inte the store, WHISTLING. Two women, the same tvo wonan who watched him when he cane out of ths post office with the Fad Ex package, stop where they are on the sidewalk as he approaches MORT ‘Morning, ladies! The Women stare. The First Woman whispers something to the Second Woman, ‘his tine, the Second Woman does not laugh. They id of hin, he's 0.d. in Brentwood. THT BOWIE'S STORE Dar Mort breezes inside. 147 MORE Biya, Gerda! Gerda doesn't lock at him, doesn't answer. fhe entire place tenses. Mort heads for the back counter, not the diner part, but the store part. As he passes the usual Departuent of Public Works guys having their breakfast at the counter, they turn their heads, eno by onc. After he passes. Wot before. There is no eye contact this tine. AT TRE BACK, Mert cheerily picks o fow items off the shelves, brings then ever to the counter Gerda meets him reluctantly at the register. HORT (cont'd) Mo time for breakfast todsy, I'm afraid. Gerda rings up the items. There's butter, Morton Salt. A stack of napkins. Guarda never looks at him. GERDA Six twenty-six. Mort PLUHRS down a ten. MORT How's business? Gerda hands hin bis change, finally looks him in the eye.@ uaz 188 149 1s. 02/12/2003 ‘CONTINUED: 447 GERDA ‘Been better. Mort Ab, it'll pick up. Alwsys does. "To arything there is a Gerda! He taxes bis bag and leaves. Gerda watches hin go. cor to: Ext CABIN par 148 Mort's cabin, Mort's Buick parked dn front. The trees changing color. You know, this place is just absolutely beutiful. A police car rolis slowly into the driveway, “Tashmore Lake Sheriff's Department" on the side. er CABIN - LIVING ROOK paY The back door opens and Mort comes inte the cabin from the back, carrying a basket of something froa outside. DAVE FEWSOME {through the soresn) Me, Rainey? He smiles when he recognizes Novsone. 14g Mort jumps, startled, MoRT Dave! You startled me. DAVE NEWSOME may I come in? wort Uh... can you come back? I'ma little busy right now. DAVE NEWSOME ‘wraid not, Mr, Rainey. Official visit. But without another word, Mort just turns and walks into the kitchen, carrying his basket. Dave is surprised. fe opens the screan door and comes inside. He hears a bumping and CLANGING from the kitchen and walks slowly toward the swinging door. He pushes it open.~ @ + 356 116. 02/12/2003 Nz CABIN - KITCHEN DAZ 150 One hand still on the door, Newsome gradually reveals the view into the kitchen. The plece is a foul, fetid mess. There are stacks of rotting corn husks everyvhere, a huge pot boiling on the stove, Mort chucks the basket be vas carrying into « corner of the Kitchen beside tvo others. It's full of freshly picked ears of corn. Mewsoma looks around, shocked. Mort's at the stove now, putting on hot pads to remove tha boiling pot. MOR! Told you, Dave, I'm kinda swamped. Ma carries the pot over to the sink and dumpa it into a large strainer there. The boiling vater and bright yellow ears of corn tumble out end stear billows up over Mort's head in a great hot cloud. MoRT (cont'd) Rarvest time. DAVE NEWSOME So I see. Mort pulls off the hot pads and plucks the atill-steaming ears of corn from the strainer, placing them in a bowl one by one. Pause, then out with it: DAVE NEWSOME (cont'd) We finally found Tom Greenleaf's car. Seems it wes at the bottem of Dunsmoor Quarry. é Mort dessn't ansver, just carries the bowl of corn to the table and has a saat. DAVE NEWSOHE {cont‘d) And old Tom was in it, along with another body, Too decayed to identity right off, but I got @ hunch it's gonna tora out to bs that private investigator you hired down in the odty. But I expect you knew that elready. Mort still doesn't answer. He picks an eer of corn and jabs two of those prengy corn-eater things into the ends. Easier to eat that vay, you don't get your fingers messy.02/12/2003 127. 150 CONTINUED: 150 ia DAVE NEWSOME (cont'd) And we found a wristwatch in the car, too. I don't think there's # soul in town has any doubt it‘s gonna turn out to be yours. Mot with that dnwcription, Yeab, you had us running in circles for a few months there, I'll give yoo that. We may never find what you did with the body of your wife and Tad Milner, but we got snough now. Mort alathere sone buttar over the hot ear of corn, it melts and @rips onto the plat DAVE NEWSOME {cont‘d} There's a half dozen fell: from the Yel on their way up bere right now to put you under arrast. Should be here in three or four minctes. 1 just wanted to tall you myself. Moxt sprinkles salt on the corn. DAVE MEWSONE (ont 'd) ~~, Did you hear vbat I said? Yeu're going to jail, Mr. Rainey, and you won't be @ : coming out. ‘MORT oh, I'm not worried about that. The only thing that matters is the ending. He was right to push ma on it. It's the most important part of « story, the ending. He locks up at the Sheriff, his face full of the modest pride of craftemanship. wor? (cont'd) I think I got dt right this time. A perfect snding. He holds the ear of corn up ia front of him, studies the shiny kernels, the beautiful oozing butter, the bright vbite of galt. He recites from mamory, in Shooter's voice: MORT (cont'd) “I koow I can do it,” Todd Downey said, helping himself to another ear of corm from the. steaming bowl. “I'm sure that Cc in time every bit of her will be gone and her death will be a mystery. Even r ) te oe."1s0 151 252 118. 02/12/2003 CONTINUED: (2) 150 Be leans forward to take 4 bite, clearing our line of vision, and we notice sousthing waving ovtside his kitchen window. Cora stalks. We drift toward the waving green stalks, across the kitchen, out the open window -~ Ext HOUSE - LAKE SIDE DAT ~- and into the middle of the garden. Once a bare patch dirt, it's now full of seven foot corn stalks, their taa CLICKING against one another in the light breeze. Wo Xeep drifting, but down now, down the lengths of the stalks, down where the irregular shafts of sunlight barely strix the base of the atalks, down to the dirt and then tato tl still moving, underground new, following the roots of the corn stalks inte the moist black earth. They go deep, these roots, thick at first, then thinsar, thinner still, we're six feet underground now and still following the spidery tendrils of corh root down, past the corpse of Bump the dog, all the way dowa -- ~- inte the decomposing bodies of Amy Rainay and her lover. INT KITCHEN par 152 la 252 Mort Perfect, ‘CRUNCH Mort ainks his teeth into the corn and tears the kernels free, butter running down his chin. FADE UT.