The Two Deaths of Daniel Hayes

by Marcus Sakey

  Bennett’s mask of cool had slipped, revealing the creature behind it, all angles and cunning. He looked from the gun to Laney to the street beyond the loading dock, then took a half step back.

  “Don’t move, fucker.” Daniel raised the gun. It felt so right in his hand. No, wrong, it feels wrong, not right, you don’t want to, not ag— He blinked, tried to steady his hand. At this range, there was no way he could miss. All he had to do was pull the trigger. Swivel his aim a couple of degrees, at Laney, and pull it again. Then, finally, put the barrel in his mouth and finish what he’d started in Maine.

  Laney’s eyes were pools of wide panic. She stepped toward him.

  “Stay there.”

  “No.” She stared at him, the woman who’d been lying to him— the woman you love—her face beautiful—terrible—a monster— your life—“You’re not going to do this, Daniel.”

  “I have to.”

  “No, you don’t. Don’t you remember?” She spoke softly. “I know you do. That’s why you couldn’t shoot him at Sophie’s house, and why you keep having that dream—”

  “What are you—”

  “—about the concrete canyon.” She took another step. “Only it’s not a canyon, Daniel.” Her eyes hypnotizing him. “It’s the river basin.” He felt dizzy, almost as if he were—

  “Where you killed Bennett last time.”

  —falling.

  5

  EXT. L.A. RIVER BASIN—EARLY EVENING

  The sky is crimson and gold above a concrete canyon with a narrow trickle of water down the center. The skyline looms.

  A silver BMW splashes through a puddle.

  INT. BMW—CONTINUOUS

  DANIEL HAYES pulls to a stop near an overpass. He clenches and unclenches his hands.

  He peers out the windshield. Beneath the bridge, headlights blink on and off once.

  On the seat beside him, his cell phone vibrates. The display has a picture of LANEY THAYER.

  He looks at the phone, but does not pick it up. DANIEL

  No, baby.

  He opens the glove box, takes out a paper bag. DANIEL (CONT.) Not after what he did to you.

  EXT. L.A. RIVER BASIN—CONTINUOUS

  Daniel walks toward the overpass. He holds the bag in his left hand.

  After a dozen steps, he stops at the edge of the shadow.

  Footsteps ring on concrete.

  A STRANGER’s silhouette appears. His features resolve as he comes closer. A stocky man of average height, with a shaved head and tattoos down both arms.

  STRANGER

  You’re late. Where’s your wife?

  DANIEL

  It’s just me.

  The stranger digests this, then nods at the bag, holds out his hand.

  STRANGER

  Give it here.

  DANIEL

  I know about you. You’re a cockroach. STRANGER

  Wow. Tough guy.

  The man’s smile is bar fights and prison time. DANIEL

  We’re not afraid of you. I’m giving you one chance, one, to leave us alone. STRANGER

  Or else what? This isn’t a TV show. DANIEL

  I’ll give you this, but I’m telling you now. You’ll do better to walk away and leave us alone.

  STRANGER

  What are you, laying a Buddhist trip on me? Fuck you.

  DANIEL

  No.

  He reaches into the bag and pulls out a GLOCK. STRANGER

  Wait—

  DANIEL

  Fuck you.

  Daniel pulls the trigger, once, twice, three times.

  Each bullet is a hammer blow. The man stumbles. Blood spurts from a hole in his neck and spatters Daniel’s T-shirt.

  A childish look of fear and bafflement crosses the stranger’s face.

  Then he collapses.

  Daniel stares at him. Then at the gun.

  The body twitches on the ground. Lips twist in agony.

  Blood spills onto the dirty concrete.

  Daniel stares. He looks like a man waiting for someone to yell “Cut!”

  No one does.

  The stranger coughs red, and dies.

  Daniel looks around. His face is pale.

  The skyline looms, the high-rises leaning like hooded judges.

  A sudden convulsion takes Daniel, and he doubles over, claps a hand over his mouth. Barely holds the vomit down.

  Staggers back to the car.

  INT. BMW—CONTINUOUS

  Daniel collapses into the seat.

  The gun in his hand trembles.

  He stares out the windshield at the man he murdered.

  Then he yanks open the glove box, throws the gun inside, and squeals away.

  The drive is a blurry montage of neon and darkness.

  Horns squeal out of time.

  Daniel’s knuckles squeeze the steering wheel. His face is wan and sticky.

  He mutters to himself, word fragments of an argument in his head. Angry and scared and horrified.

  DANIEL

  Had to . . . he would . . . didn’t . . . I didn’t . . . meant to . . . why . . . fuck . . . oh fuck . . .

  The city rages and burns outside his windows. The PCH is a guttering candle. The ocean is cold steel.

  The night is slithering horror.

  INT. DANIEL & LANEY’S MALIBU HOME—MOMENTS LATER

  LANEY THAYER sits on the steps in their foyer. She speaks into a cell phone.

  LANEY

  Daniel, please, whatever you’re going to do, don’t. I know you’re trying to protect me, but you don’t want to do this.

  (a beat)

  Answer your phone, baby.

  (a beat)

  Answer your phone!

  At the sound of a car engine, Laney jumps. She runs to the front door, yanks it open just as Daniel comes in.

  His white T-shirt is stained crimson.

  LANEY

  Oh my god.

  He pushes past her.

  LANEY

  Are you okay?

  She hurries after him, to the . . .

  BATHROOM—CONTINUOUS

  where Daniel crouches in front of the toilet. He vomits explosively.

  LANEY

  Talk to me! Are you hurt?

  Daniel’s chest heaves. He straightens, looks at her.

  His eyes belong to a man hanging from a cliff— and slowly losing his grip.

  Laney rushes to him, begins to pat at his body. LANEY

  Where is it coming from?

  DANIEL

  It’s not mine.

  The words gut punch Laney.

  Daniel’s fingers clutch porcelain.

  LANEY

  What did you do?

  DANIEL

  I didn’t mean to.

  He wipes at his mouth with back of his hand, and stares at something far away.

  DANIEL (CONT.)

  I gave him a chance. Told him to leave us alone.

  (a beat)

  Maybe I did mean to.

  Laney paces.

  DANIEL (CONT.)

  It feels different than I thought it would. Worse.

  (a beat)

  When I shot him, it was just like on a set, with squibs and dye packs. I even, I thought, wow, this guy is good— he’s playing it well. I almost believe he’s really . . .

  Another wave of nausea hits, and he vomits into the toilet, coughing and spitting between heaves. Laney kneels behind him and slowly rubs his back.

  Daniel finishes. Folds his arms across the porcelain and lays his head down on them. LANEY

  It’s . . . okay. We’ll figure it out. (a beat)

  I wish you’d told me. I would have stopped you.

  (a beat)

  Or come with you.

  DANIEL

  I didn’t think it would be like this. LANEY

  Did anyone see you?

  Daniel seems not to have heard.

  DANIEL

  There’s no way back from this. Is there? Once you’ve done this, you’re a different
person.

  (a beat)

  Forever.

  (a beat)

  It’s too high.

  Laney seems like she wants to say something, but doesn’t know what that would be.

  DANIEL (CONT.)

  After all Bennett did to you, I wanted to. I was so.

  (a beat)

  But he didn’t kill anyone. I did.

  A muffled sound, perhaps a man’s voice. Laney digs her cell phone from her pocket, finger already stabbing to shut it off.

  But then she sees the name on the display. She stares.

  Uncomprehending.

  And then getting it.

  Horror.

  She watches Daniel as she answers.

  BENNETT (O.S.)

  You know, I always thought that line about not killing the messenger was just a metaphor.

  Laney whimpers. Daniel looks up from the floor. BENNETT (O.S.)

  How’s Dan feeling? He know he shot the wrong guy?

  (a beat)

  Think the police will help you now?

  5

  —dizzy, almost as if he were falling. Daniel wobbled on his feet, sucked in a breath of cool air. Reeling from the force and abruptness of the memory, from the crystal clarity, from the echoes of nausea and horror.

  Laney stared at him. Something in his eyes must have told her that he remembered. “Now you see why I had to lie baby. Why I’ve kept us from going to the police, and why I wanted to just give him the necklace, even now. I didn’t want you to have to remember this. I didn’t want you to face it again.”

  Oh fuck me.

  In the instant the memory had flowed through him, he’d been lost in it, but now he found himself here again. Back in a concrete canyon holding death in his hand. A loading dock instead of a dry river basin, but the decision the same.

  Only heartbeats had passed. The snub-nose revolver was still pointed at Bennett. Through the walls of the club, bass still throbbed. The glaring buzz of the sodium light was unchanged.

  But everything was different. He knew what he’d done.

  And what it had cost him.

  Bennett had his mask back in place, his features collected. He held his hands out and vaguely up. “Easy, brother. Easy. You tried this once, and you didn’t like it.”

  Daniel stared down his arm. Shoulder, bicep, elbow, forearm, hand, pistol. All connected. A gun is just a tool of your will. You pull the trigger, the man in front of it dies.

  It’s not the gun that does the killing.

  “Tell you what.” Bennett lowered his hand.

  “Don’t!” Daniel’s mouth was dry. His throat closed tight.

  “Easy! I was just getting your necklace. Okay?” Very slowly, Bennett slid two fingers into his pocket, pulled the glittering chain out. “Here.” He dropped it on the concrete. “See?”

  It all comes down to this. Every mile you drove, every memory you chased, every moment you’ve had of this too-short life. Everything you’ve learned along the way. All conspired to bring you right back where you started.

  Sweat dripped down his forehead, and he wiped it away with his other hand. Laney watched him. His Laney, the woman he loved, and who loved him.

  My god. You almost—you were going to—

  “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t know. I didn’t—”

  “It’s okay. I understand. I love you.”

  “Listen, Daniel.” Bennett’s voice calm. “We can work something out.”

  You’re here again. Only this time you realize what it means.

  When he’d driven to the river basin, the gun in his glove compartment, he had been telling himself that he would give the man a chance to walk away. But he’d known that he didn’t really want that. He’d wanted the man to give him a reason to kill. He’d gone there with murder in his heart.

  Only you didn’t understand. You thought it was just another story you were writing. Didn’t understand how taking a life would change you. How part of you would die too. Didn’t realize you were living the last days of Daniel Hayes. At least the Daniel Hayes you thought you were.

  But pulling a trigger is different than typing words on a keyboard. Different than imagining the story of your life. Different even than writing a real-life scene, the way you scripted the one for Bennett’s cameras, and the twist that left you with the loaded gun.

  “You’re not a killer, Daniel.” Bennett spoke calmly. “Let’s just all walk away.”

  “Shut up!” Laney turned to Daniel. “You don’t have to.”

  “What choice is there?”

  She held out one hand. “Give me the gun.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll do it.”

  The words tore through him like a fist through a screen door. He could see the fear in her eyes, the dread. See that she remembered what killing had done to him, and knew that the same thing might happen to her. That some part of her would die along with Bennett. And yet she was willing to do it. Not because she wanted to, but to save Daniel from going through it all a second time.

  He shook his head. “No. I won’t let you.” He wanted to lie down somewhere and close his eyes. Somewhere with cool breezes and the smell of flowers. You are who you choose to be. Make sure you can live with the decisions you make.

  He lowered the gun.

  Bennett smiled.

  “I’m sorry, baby.”

  “Don’t be,” Laney said. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  You are who you choose to be.

  “Yes,” Daniel said, “I do.”

  He turned, snapped the gun back up, and pulled the trigger. In the confines of the loading dock, the explosion was enormous. It left his ears ringing enough that the second shot seemed quiet in comparison. The silence that followed pressed heavy.

  Make sure you can live with the decisions you make.

  Bennett staggered. His legs went wobbly. He raised one hand, touched his chest. Stared at the blood that soaked his fingers. Eyes wide and stunned. Like he couldn’t believe what he was looking at. Then he collapsed.

  Daniel stared. It all flashed through him in that moment. The long journey of the last days. The terror, the confusion, the stakes. The road and the loneliness and the exhaustion and guilt. Laney and the life he’d lost and then found again.

  Sophie. Most of all, Sophie.

  He looked at the body on the concrete.

  I can live with that.

  Daniel Hayes put his arms around the woman he loved and drew her to him.

  5 INT. TELEVISION STUDIO—MORNING

  A graphics package for THE TODAY SHOW wipes from the screen, revealing a desk in front of huge windows. The windows look out onto a cold morning in Manhattan. A crowd of tourists bundled in snow gear peer in the windows, snapping pictures and waving.

  Four people sit at the desk: MEREDITH VIEIRA, a girl-next-door beauty; AL ROKER, kind-eyed and smiling; DANIEL HAYES, looking uncomfortable; and LANEY THAYER, radiant and at ease.

  MEREDITH

  We have the most amazing story to share with you this morning. You’ve all heard about the terrible accident involving our guest Laney Thayer. And of course we all know about the media circus that followed, including a police investigation and implications of murder. This morning, for the first time, Laney and her husband screenwriter Daniel Hayes, are going to share what happened to them. And what a story it is. Laney, Daniel, thanks for being here.

  LANEY

  Thanks for having us. We’re big fans. MEREDITH

  We’ve all heard the official version. But, Laney, can you share your personal take on everything that happened?

  LANEY

  Sort of.

  (she laughs)

  That’s the problem with amnesia.

  AL

  Tell us about that.

  LANEY

  Well, it’s really called a dissociative fugue. What happens is that in a traumatic situation, sometimes your mind loses track of itself. The doctors think it’s a way of coping, a last-ditch effort t
he mind can make to protect itself. But it’s so rare they don’t know much about it.

  MEREDITH

  And in your case, it was triggered when your car went over the cliff.

  LANEY

  We think so.

  Video feed from a news chopper is cut in, showing a powder-blue Volkswagen Beetle upside down in the ocean, the car crumpled and torn. LANEY (V.O.)

  All I remember is waking up in the ocean. I was cold, and everything hurt, and at first I was just trying to get to shore. But when I did, I realized that I couldn’t remember how I had ended up in the ocean in the first place. Or anything else.

  The camera cuts back to the desk.

  AL

  That must have been terrifying.

  LANEY

  It was. I was so confused. I could remember how to walk, and drive, and count, but I couldn’t remember who I was.

  MEREDITH

  What did you do?

  LANEY

  Well, this might sound strange, but the doctors say it’s normal. I bluffed. (she laughs)

  I was sure that my memories would come back to me, so in the meantime, I just sort of became this other person.

  AL

  A natural thing for an actress to do. LANEY

  I think that was part of it. I’m used to pretending to be other people.

  MEREDITH

  Why didn’t you go to the police, or the hospital?

  LANEY

  I was scared. Everything seems menacing if you can’t remember who you are. MEREDITH

  And of course, Daniel, you didn’t know she was alive.

  DANIEL

  I did, though. I just knew it. Part of it was that the police hadn’t found her body. But it was more than that. Somehow I knew she was alive, and that she needed my help.

  MEREDITH

  But the police were questioning your involvement.

  DANIEL

  I don’t blame them. They were just doing their job. But all I cared about was finding Laney. So I went looking for her.

  MEREDITH

  And we’ve all heard about what happened then. Your drive across the country to the beach where you’d gotten married; coming back to Los Angeles; even running from the police.

  DANIEL

  I know that my behavior might seem wrong to some people. But to me, it was simple. The woman I loved was in trouble, and nothing else mattered.

  AL

  That sounds like something out of a mystery novel.

  DANIEL

  It kind of was.

  MEREDITH

  It’s incredible, the way the two of you were looking for each other, that you were connected even in these impossible situations. What did you learn from all of this?