Plan 9- Official Movie Novelization
Page 27
Jethro tried again. “You need a ride?”
At last, the man faced him. He was a normal looking white man, all clean-shaven and with dark hair. Red eyes from being up all night. Without a word, he opened the passenger door and clum in.
This close, Jethro admired the nice clothes. Dirty, yes, and he smelled like a shit house door on a tuna boat. But someone like this was book-read. Maybe he could offer reasons other than the Bible for why Madge and Dumb Dawg were dead.
Jethro shifted the truck back into gear to get moving again. “Damn near done lost my ass last night. Had those things all over my camper. White-eyed ones, too. Boss Man said those are like zombie leaders or somethin’. Killed my dog. Ate my damn horse. My wife, too. Made it, though. Goddamn, it’s good to be alive. Didn’t think I would.”
He took a gander at his passenger. The man stared straight ahead at the dirt road. His skin color weren’t right. Looked downright peaked with an orange tinge. Jethro’s daddy looked like that when his kidneys went bad.
Maybe he could fetch him a doctor. All at once, Jethro decided that’s what he’d do. He’d turn into Robin Hood—helping the poor, feeding the sick, and defending his Virginia heritage. And he’d start with this man right here.
“I’m gonna change my ways,” he told him. “This night done woke me up. I’m gonna be a better person. Living’s what it’s all about.”
The man kept silent and stared ahead.
“Hey. You don’t look so good. Where you want me to take ya? Hospital?”
“Montana.”
Jethro slammed on the brakes. The truck slid through the dirt and stopped. “Montana? Why would you wanna go to…Hey, wait. Boss Man said that’s where the next attack is happenin’. Why the hell are you hitching your way there?”
“Lost my ride.”
“Well, you didn’t just gain a new one.” Book-read or no, this biggety asshole sure as shit done had his eggs scrambled. Maybe his bacon and toast, too. “I lived through the worst night of my life. There is no way I’m gonna trek into the goddamn jaws of hell ’cause you lost your goddamn ride. Montana is the beginning of a whole new kinda war. God help us in the future.”
The man finally turned to face him. As he did, he exposed a wound on the inside of his forearm. It bled orange blood.
“What the hellfire…”
A curved black talon erupted from the man’s cut-open arm. It looked like a sickle used for cutting corn.
Thrust in thy sickle, and reap, Madge had quoted. For the harvest of the earth is ripe.
The man opened his mouth to display rows of shark’s teeth.
What did he say about not trekking into the jaws of hell? They done found him here.
The man lunged at Jethro’s face.
Naw. Weren’t from these parts, after all.
Acknowledgements
Bringing any book to publication seems, to me, a lot like bringing a child into the world, although it requires more than the efforts of two people and much more than nine months gestation. The midwife to thank in all this is my wife, Deena Warner, who patiently listened as I read aloud each chapter to her as I finished them and then later served as a beta reader. Her off-the-cuff remarks and services as a sounding board were essential to my writing process, as always. She also did her usual kickass job designing the book cover.
Thanks also to John Johnson, the author and director of the Plan 9 movie, for giving me this opportunity. It’s been a memorable experience to meld my voice to his, and one that has been rewarding to both of us.
David Morrell, the internationally famous thriller writer who created Rambo, provided invaluable technical advice about airplane operations and was kind enough to vet my Chapter 1 descriptions.
Finally, a big thanks to you, the reader, for hanging in there with us. I hope you enjoyed the ride.
About the Authors
EDWARD D. WOOD, JR. (1924–1978)
Ed Wood didn’t write the Plan 9 movie or this novelization, but we’d be dummies not to credit him as the grandfather.
By the time he released his most famous film, Plan 9 From Outer Space (originally titled Grave Robbers From Outer Space) in 1959, Wood had already written, directed, or produced fifteen films for TV and the silver screen. Known for low-budget, campy movies such as Bride of the Monster (1955), Wood was eager to cast his famous friend Bela Lugosi in his new film about extraterrestrials resurrecting the Earth’s dead. The trouble was that Lugosi, best known for playing Dracula, was dead himself. All Wood had were bits of unconnected footage of Lugosi acting in several other unrealized projects. Absent help from real-life ETs, Wood’s solution was to insert those clips anyway. He wove them into the narrative by means of a voice-over about an old man whose spouse recently died. Wood hired his wife’s chiropractor as Lugosi’s stand-in when necessary.
The film’s star power, however, couldn’t overcome its numerous continuity errors and technical problems. In 1980, Michael and Harry Medved labeled it the “worst movie ever made” and posthumously awarded their Golden Turkey Award to Wood as the worst director ever. But, as they say in Hollywood (whoever “they” are), there’s no such thing as bad publicity. “Bela Lugosi’s last movie” and its director gained a cult following. While the film received endless reruns on late-night television, Wood enjoyed a second life in the 1994 biopic Ed Wood, directed by Tim Burton and starring Johnny Depp.
Plan 9 From Outer Space has gone on to be colorized, novelized, and sequelized. Even while it has been lampooned, others have been eager to study it, adapt it to other formats, and to remake it in projects such as this one. Although it may not have had the exact effect its writer intended, Wood’s movie has become a part of our cultural lexicon, a touchstone occupying a space all its own. We’d like to think Ed would be proud to watch and read what we’ve spun out of his legacy. And who knows—if aliens ever come down and resurrect the dead, maybe he will.
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JOHN JOHNSON (1979–)
A self-taught filmmaker, Johnson shot his first film, Zap, at age eight, and has gone on to complete more than 160 short and feature-length films through his company, Darkstone Entertainment, and its subsidiary, Red Army Films. He’s a bit like Ed Wood insofar as he has specialized in pulp horror films with a comedic touch. Aside from Plan 9, his most notable works include direct-to-video movies such as Deceptors (2005), Darken (2006), and the four-part Skeleton Key series (beginning in 2006).
In 2010, he began exploring the potential of TV-Internet crossover by creating a series in which YouTube viewers could vote on the progression of an ongoing fantasy story. Spade lasted for 23 episodes before he moved on to a similar venture in Gravebit (2015). Flicksphere.com commissioned him in 2012 to create two audience-participation web movies titled FearFighter and Dr. Ella Mental’s Mad Lab Picture Show.
Plan 9 began with a rumor that took on a life of its own. An interviewer once asked, “If you could remake any movie, which one would you choose?” He facetiously answered, “Plan 9 From Outer Space.” Faster than Ed Wood could don his signature pink sweater, word spread online that B-horror movie magnate John Johnson planned to remake the famous film, so he figured he better satisfy audience demand.
Being friends with one of the last surviving members of the original cast certainly helped. Conrad Brooks, who played a policeman in Plan 9 From Outer Space, returned in Johnson’s remake as the mysterious old grandfather, Jamie.
Nearly sixty other credited actors appear in the new movie, filmed mostly in Bedford, Virginia. These include Brian Krause as Jeff Trent, horror movie host Mr. Lobo as Criswell, Matthew Ewald as Jimmy, Addy Miller as Sarah, Internet celebrity James Rolfe as Policeman (named Newton Coburn in this novelization), and the “first black scream queen,” Monique Dupree, as Becky. More than a hundred other extras appeared as zombies, including Matthew Warner, who was proud to get gunned down about an hour in.
Plan 9 can now be found on cable and Internet sites via video-on-demand services. It’s also available in Austr
alia and the Middle East with many more countries to follow.
More info: plan9movie.com.
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MATTHEW WARNER (1973–)
Warner met John Johnson in 2010 when Johnson directed The Good Parts, a short film Warner wrote and produced for Red Army Films. Since then, he has co-written several scripts for Darkstone Entertainment, including The Lovecraft Chronicles (2010 and 2016), Criswell Predicts! (2010–2011), and Dr. Ella Mental’s Mad Lab Picture Show (2012). He has also acted in a handful of Darkstone films.
Warner’s publishing credits span a variety of formats, including novels, short stories, and newspaper articles. His first horror novel in 2003, The Organ Donor, garnered a five-star review from critic Feo Amante, who labeled the book a “straight-on modern classic of horror.” Publishers Weekly described his second novel, Eyes Everywhere (2006), as “disturbing…compelling and insightful.” Dramatic works include a radio play and stage play premiered by theaters in central Virginia.
His opinion column, “Author’s Notes,” ran for five years at Horror World and consisted of a blend of commentary, autobiography, and tutorials about the writing craft. Guide Dog Books collected the first three years of those columns into its debut non-fiction title, Horror Isn’t a 4-Letter Word: Essays on Writing & Appreciating the Genre (2008).
Blood Born (2011), is an apocalyptic monster novel set in the Washington, DC, area where he grew up. His first urban fantasy novel, The Seventh Equinox (2013), is set in a fictitious city inspired by his current home of Staunton, Virginia. Dominoes in Time (2015) collects sixteen years of horror and science fiction stories.
Warner lives with his wife, the artist Deena Warner, and sons, Owen and Thomas. In 2007, they opened a print and website design business, Deena Warner Design, serving the publishing industry. He’s a member of the Horror Writers Association.
Despite trips to storied Marfa, Texas; Brown Mountain, North Carolina; Foamhenge, Virginia; and Salem, Massachusetts, Warner has never seen an alien—although he’s sometimes suspicious of his cats.
More info: matthewwarner.com.