The Urban Creepers

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by Dreama Elmore




  THE URBAN

  CREEPERS

  DREAMA C. ELMORE

  DIZZY EMU PUBLISHING

  1714 N McCadden Place, Hollywood, Los Angeles 90028

  www.dizzyemupublishing.com

  THE URBAN CREEPERS

  DREAMA C. ELMORE

  First published in the United States

  in 2017 by Dizzy Emu Publishing

  ISBN: 9781973572558

  Copyright © Dreama C. Elmore 2017

  Dreama C. Elmore has asserted her right under the

  Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be

  identified as the author of this work.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it

  shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent,

  resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the

  publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or

  cover other than that in which it is published and

  without a similar condition, including this condition,

  being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  www.dizzyemupublishing.com

  THE URBAN CREEPERS

  By

  Dreama C. Elmore

  FADE IN:

  EXT. LOS ANGELES STREET – NIGHT

  Deserted construction equipment, stacked lumber, extensive,

  leveled dirt lot. Department of Public Works vehicle and

  two work trucks parked alongside curb. An A-frame barricade

  with amber light flashes next to open manhole.

  LARRY TRENT (40’s), average, face twisted in panic, claws

  his way out of manhole. His orange vest in tatters, clothes

  sopping wet. Defensive wounds cover his hands and arms. He

  STAGGERS to work TRUCK a few meters away.

  JACK ROBERTS (40’s), rugged and strong build, sticks head

  out of manhole, doesn’t climb out. Left hand severed,a

  tourniquet impedes blood loss. He reaches out with stump.

  JACK

  (snivels)

  Don’t leave me here to die, Larry.

  Come back. I need you.

  LARRY

  Stop it. You know I can’t. . . I

  won’t do that, Jack.

  Larry scrambles into TRUCK, locks doors. No keys are in the

  ignition. He flips down the visor, frantically searches

  beneath floor mat, and rummages inside glove compartment.

  LARRY

  They have to be here.

  Larry squeezes eyes shut, bites bottom lip, and peers out

  reluctantly through driver’s side WINDOW.

  A smug grin spreads across Jack’s face, maniacal eyes

  glower. He dangles KEYS tauntingly in right hand.

  JACK

  Looking for these?

  Larry stares disbelievingly. Jack turns over his hand, KEYS

  fall into manhole, a SPLASH resonates.

  2

  JACK

  If you want them, come get them.

  LARRY

  You’ve lost your fucking mind.

  JACK

  You should have thought about that

  before fucking my wife. You made

  her feel like a whore. No wonder

  she left me.

  LARRY

  (firmly)

  I never touched your wife.

  JACK

  Bullshit.

  LARRY

  Call her. If she says I did those

  things, I’ll save you the trouble

  and kill myself.

  JACK

  You know, I… they won’t let me

  make deals with dead men. Sons of

  bitches won’t even let me out of

  this hellhole without dire

  consequences. Ask the others, they

  were warned, too. Oh wait, you

  can’t. They’re dead.

  Jack cackles. Larry presses forehead against WINDOW, sweat

  DRIPS off brow. Suddenly a large Brick SMASHES into WINDOW,

  shatters it. Shards of glass RAIN down.

  Larry dives into passenger seat.

  JACK

  They’ll never let you leave, old

  friend. You need to pay for your

  sins and they have something

  special in mind. It’ll guarantee

  your family’s safety.

  3

  LARRY

  I don’t understand. What does my

  family have to do with this?

  JACK

  Just think of it as an eye for eye

  for your betrayal.

  LARRY

  I never betrayed you.

  (sobs)

  It’s them. Those fucking things

  are messing with your mind. You

  have to be stronger than they are.

  A thin voice CRIES OUT in agony within manhole.

  THIN VOICE (O.S.)

  Help me. Please. Can anyone hear

  me? I need help. I’ve been

  stabbed.

  Larry’s eyes WIDEN with recognition. He FLINGS himself back

  across seat to WINDOW, slices hands on shattered glass.

  LARRY

  I’m truly sorry for what happened

  between the foreman and your wife,

  but it had nothing to do with me

  or the others, especially Pete.

  He’s only been with the company

  two days.

  Grotesque SPIRIT suddenly APPEARS at WINDOW, brings finger

  to lips. Its eyes are sewn shut.

  SPIRIT

  Shh.

  Larry reels back. Spirit disappears, rematerializes behind

  Jack, whispers in his ear. Jack nods, looks into manhole.

  JACK

  I thought for sure he was dead,

  too. I’ll be right back, Larry.

  Spirit VANISHES. Larry stares out WINDOW.

  4

  LARRY

  (begs)

  You don’t have to do this.

  JACK

  But I do.

  Jack disappears into manhole, POPS back up.

  JACK

  Don’t try to run off, old friend.

  You don’t want me visiting your

  house tonight, right?

  LARRY

  No, Jack, no.

  JACK

  It would be a shame for those two

  beautiful daughters of yours to

  experience firsthand what you did

  to good ole Uncle Jackie’s wife.

  Larry’s face drains of color, grits his teeth.

  LARRY

  You have my word . . . I’ll do

  anything. Just don’t hurt them,

  okay?

  JACK

  Sure.

  Jack disappears into MANHOLE again.

  Larry drops below WINDOW, curls into a fetal position, and

  CLASPS his hands together in prayer.

  LARRY

  Though I walk through the valley

  of the shadow of death, I fear no

  evil . . .

  5

  INT. JILLIAN’S APARTMENT – LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

  Clean and tidy, every light on. All interior doors missing

  from hinges. Blinds are closed. Walls are bare except for

  faded outline of absent picture frames. Couch is improvised

  bed; alarm clock sits on coffee table beside PICTURE.

  JILLIAN REYNOLDS (20’s), her pretty face etched with grief,

  wears extremely worn coveralls and waterproof boots that

  have seen better days. Her arms well-defined, an engagement

  RING sparkles from left hand. She paces nervously, thud of<
br />
  her boots reverberate off floor.

  JILLIAN

  I can do this. I can do this.

  Jillian SNATCHES PICTURE of her and CHARLIE FISHER (20’s),

  handsome and athletic, in spelunking gear with arms wrapped

  around each other. She hugs it against her chest, wipes

  away tears STEALING down face.

  JILLIAN

  It won’t be long now, my love. I

  need to try one last time to make

  things right with Dan. Then, I’ll

  be in your arms again.

  Doorbell CHIMES. Jillian freezes, fidgets with RING.

  JILLIAN

  Just a minute.

  She sets PICTURE down; eyes linger, mind drifts.

  CUT TO:

  INT. BARRA HONDA PARK – VERTICLE CAVE – DAY (FLASHBACK)

  Desolate chamber, 30m wide, 100m deep, limestone walls, and

  no natural light.

  6

  Jillian and four SPELUNKERS rappel into center of cavern.

  Jillian lands first, unhooks from rope, moves to alcove.

  Her headlamp illuminates ancient cave paintings.

  JILLIAN

  Hey guys, hurry up. There’s some

  fucking cool shit down here.

  Charlie rappels a few more feet, wraps legs around rope,

  hangs upside down. SPELUNKERS cease descent, laugh.

  CHARLIE

  Those paintings have been here for

  at least three hundred years.

  JILLIAN

  What’s your point?

  CHARLIE

  I don’t think they’re going to

  disappear in the next thirty

  seconds.

  JILLIAN

  Stop being a party-pooper and get

  your cute ass down here.

  Charlie grins, uprights self.

  CHARLIE

  Sure thing, sexy mama.

  Rappelling ropes snaps free, zips through carabineers.

  SPELUNKERS shriek. Jillian spotlights their PLUMMET, sees

  them SMASH into ground.

  INT. JILLIAN’S APARMTENT – LIVING ROOM – NIGHT (PRESENT DAY)

  Jillian jolts violently, inhales ragged breath, and removes

  prescription BOTTLE for anxiety from pants pocket. She

  takes two pills, peers inside. Only four pills remain.

  7

  EXT. JILLIAN’S APARTMENT – PORCH - NIGHT

  MIKE REYNOLDS (30’s), clean-shaven, military-style haircut,

  impatiently waits. Doorbell is only light source. His truck

  idles beside curb. He presses doorbell, POUNDS fist against

  door.

  MIKE

  Come on, Jill. We’re going to be

  late.

  INT. JILLIAN’S APARTMENT – LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

  Jillian struts to door, unlocks the two deadbolts, glimpses

  CHARLIE’S GHOST in mirror. She whips around; Charlie’s

  ghost disappears as she reaches to touch. She shudders,

  wraps arms around self, slowly regains composure. With a

  deep breath, she forces a smile and opens door.

  JILLIAN

  You’re early.

  MIKE

  By two minutes.

  Mike steps inside, squints from INTENSE light, and closes

  door behind him.

  MIKE

  Did you ever hear of conserving

  energy?

  JILLIAN

  I conserve during the day when

  most people waste it.

  MIKE

  Sure, whatever you say. Is that

  why the porch light isn’t on?

  Jillian looks out peephole, flips on and off light switch,

  and puts distance immediately between her and the door.

  8

  JILLIAN

  (nervously)

  The bulb must have burnt out.

  MIKE

  Do you want me to change it before

  we leave?

  Jillian gazes at PICTURE, shakes her head.

  JILLIAN

  No, it’ll be okay.

  MIKE

  (elated)

  Finally, progress.

  JILLIAN

  Don’t start.

  (rolls eyes)

  All I have left to do is get my

  backpack and then we can go.

  Jillian ambles to well-organized closet where two jackets

  hang from wooden rod. One is a man’s JACKET protected in

  plastic, the other is Jillian’s. Packed moving boxes are

  stacked neatly in the back.

  MIKE

  What have you been doing all day?

  JILLIAN

  Watching television.

  MIKE

  Doesn’t that get boring after

  awhile?

  Jillian takes backpack from closet’s top shelf, BRUSHES off

  dust.

  JILLIAN

  Why would it? I have like five

  hundred channels.

  Mike shrugs, looks around room.

  9

  MIKE

  It steals all the time you could

  spend painting the next Mona Lisa.

  JILLIAN

  I was never that good.

  MIKE

  Charlie thought you were.

  Jillian grimaces, briefly strokes JACKET.

  JILLIAN

  (softly)

  He was biased.

  Mike sees tear escape down Jillian’s face. He resists

  reaching out, shoves hands in pockets, and rocks from heel

  to toe.

  MIKE

  Have you started anything new?

  JILLIAN

  No.

  MIKE

  Well, a friend of mine is looking

  to display works from local

  artists in her gallery later this

  year. She’s really interested in

  seeing your stuff.

  Jillian turns away from closet, shrugs, and sets backpack

  onto floor. Mike picks it up, glances inside. It’s empty.

  He SLINGS it over his shoulder, walks toward front door.

  MIKE

  By the way, you owe me big time

  for purchasing all that spelunking

  crap today. The freaking rappel

  kit alone was over five hundred

  dollars.

  10

  JILLIAN

  You know I’m good for it. How much

  did you get yours for when you

  started exploring?

  MIKE

  (laughs)

  Mine? This is a low budget

  operation. We bought our stuff on

  EBay and it didn’t include a fancy

  rappel kit. Besides, we’re in L.A.

  JILLIAN

  (sarcastically)

  Oh, great God.

  Mike opens front door, steps onto porch. Light spills out.

  MIKE

  Like you have room to talk . . .

  you trashed all your gear.

  JILLIAN

  I didn’t think I would need it

  again.

  MIKE

  Well, everything you wanted is in

  the truck. You pack, I’ll drive.

  INT. MIKE’S TRUCK – MOVING - NIGHT

  Country song plays softly on radio. Jillian arranges RAPPEL

  KIT, batteries, flashlights, FIRST AID KIT, KNIFE, and

  additional equipment, which include book of MATCHES inside

  a waterproof BAGGIE, into backpack.

  Mike glances, drums fingertips on steering wheel.

  MIKE

  I didn’t say this before, but

  thanks for coming along tonight.

  It means a lot.

  11

  JILLIAN

  Yeah, well, you’re my brother and

  I wanted to spend some quality

  t
ime with you.

  MIKE

  You still didn’t have to say yes.

  JILLIAN

  Consider it an early birthday

  present. And besides, it’s my last

  chance to talk to Dan before he

  goes to Europe.

  MIKE

  He’s blown you off every time

  you’ve tried to reach out. Why do

  you think this time will be any

  different?

  Jillian avoids Mike’s gaze, looks out window.

  JILLIAN

  It has to be. The anniversary of

  Charlie’s death is in two days. I

  need to say my peace before then.

  MIKE

  You act like you’re never going to

  see him again.

  Jillian stays silent, looks at closed businesses and empty

  cars parked alongside curb. They continue in awkward

  silence.

  EXT. LOS ANGELES - STORM SEWER – NIGHT

 

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