The Gorge: The Screenplay

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The Gorge: The Screenplay Page 8

by Scott Nicholson


  Raintree stares at the upside-down world and the brown river spinning and churning below. Above him, Dove and Farrengalli argue.

  DOVE

  Help me pull him up.

  FARRENGALLI

  Fuck no, he tried to scalp me.

  DOVE

  Help.

  FARRENGALLI

  Every man for himself. You’re not a man.

  The rope tugs as Dove tries to pull him up—she makes it two feet, then the slack plays out as she loses her grip, Raintree bobs down and screams at the fresh pain.

  Suspended once more, he pulls a handful of pills from his medicine bag and chews them.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. ROCKY RIVERBANK. NIGHT.

  A drizzle falls from scattered clouds. Ace is about to climb again when Bowie puts a restraining hand on his shoulder.

  The flock of goregoyles pours down from the mist and clouds, making a beeline for the cleft. They glide with grim purpose, silently. Now Ace sees them for what they are.

  BOWIE

  Christ, it’s like an army.

  ACE

  Getting ready for battle.

  The flock finishes entering the cave, the last one wearing C.A.’s torn outfit.

  BOWIE

  Jesus. You really want to go in there?

  Ace taps the backpack.

  ACE

  Gabriel got a mighty big trumpet to blow.

  Ace climbs up the boulders toward the cleft. Bowie hesitates.

  BOWIE

  Shit. Hope the others made it.

  ACE

  You kidding?

  Bowie points the revolver at Ace’s back, then lowers it and scrambles after him.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. BABEL TOWER LEDGE. NIGHT.

  Dove struggles to pull the rope up. Farrengalli is dressing hastily. He pulls the knife from his leg sheath and touches the blade to the rope holding Raintree.

  DOVE

  No. He has the cell phone.

  FARRENGALLI

  Shit.

  He helps her pull the rope, their muscles straining, rope slipping in the rain.

  Below, Raintree grimaces against the pain. He tries to do a sit-up and grab the rope to relieve the pressure on his leg. He flops back down in failure.

  A goregoyle comes out of the mist, awkwardly soaring, heading down the river. At Raintree’s movement, it turns and heads toward him.

  DOVE

  Here comes one!

  A stoned Raintree stares at the creature—it’s Jim Castle, changed, withered, gray, monstrous. As it floats and flutters just in front of him, Raintree grins.

  RAINTREE

  At last. My spirit guide.

  The Castle-creature bares fangs and launches into him while Dove wails above and Farrengalli tries to drag her back into the cave.

  CUT TO:

  INT.CAVE.

  Deep darkness. Sound of dripping water, breathing, rustling echoes. From somewhere below, a rumble and a splash.

  Beam of light pierces the darkness as Clara reaches up and turns on the MagLite. The beam tracks as she checks out the cave above her.

  She’s lying on a flat stone, a crude altar. Goregoyles are perched at a distance around her, higher up in the rocks. Waiting.

  Clara dangles her arm over the stone. It comes up wet. Water is all around her and rising.

  CLARA

  (whispers)

  You’re not getting my baby.

  One of the goregoyles SKEEEEs in response, then a few others squeak and titter.

  CLARA (CONT’D)

  (shouting)

  You’re not getting my baby.

  From the mouth of the cave, Ace shouts.

  ACE (O.S.)

  Clara!

  The goregoyles flutter and stir, restless.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. BABEL TOWER LEDGE. NIGHT.

  Dove secures the other line and tosses it over the side, rappelling down beside Raintree. Farrengalli retreats to the cave, knife in hand.

  The Castle-thing launches into Raintree, vigorously tearing into his flesh.

  DOVE

  Robert, hold on!

  Dove dangles from the rope and with one hand beats at the Castle-thing with the pick-ax. The creature rams its fangs into Raintree’s neck. The pick punches a hole in the goregoyle’s skull—the Castle-thing trembles and falls into space.

  Dove climbs farther down and talks to the delirious Raintree.

  DOVE (CONT’D)

  Come on, dammit. We can die waiting or we can die climbing.

  RAINTREE

  I’ve seen what I came to see.

  DOVE

  You can’t quit now.

  RAINTREE

  Take the cell phone.

  DOVE

  No, you can make it.

  With the last of his strength, he grabs her arm. She’s near tears but trying not to show it.

  RAINTREE

  Did you love him?

  DOVE

  Who?

  RAINTREE

  Bowie.

  FARRENGALLI (O.S.)

  (from cave above)

  Grab the phone and come on. He’s meat.

  Dove touches Raintree’s face, wipes the blood from his eyes.

  DOVE

  (softly)

  They’re all meat.

  She wrestles the cell phone from his belt and begins climbing back up. Raintree looks out over the gorge and shuts his eyes.

  CUT TO:

  INT.CAVE. NIGHT.

  AceVision: the cave below Ace slopes away, the floor filled with lava. Clara is visible on the stone altar, and she is glowing, beatific, like a madonna. The angels are circled around the altar, perched on ledges in a semicircle.

  The interior of the cave is lit with fire, and from the back of the cave, lava bubbles up.

  ACE

  (loud)

  She’s not a virgin.

  He holds his backpack to his chest and wades into the lava, looking down at is pools around his ankles and then knees as he moves deeper.

  CLARA

  They want the baby, Ace.

  ACE

  They come down from heaven a little too early. This world ain’t been washed in enough blood yet.

  Ace wades deeper, the angels getting restless. Something bubbles and a liquid rumble comes from deeper within the cliffs.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. MOUTH OF CAVE. NIGHT.

  At the mouth of the cave, Bowie waits, watching Ace enter. He glances up at the sky. The clouds erupt in rain, the river swelling again. As he turns, his foot kicks something. A pile of bones, both animal and human, ring the outside edge of the cave.

  BOWIE

  No redemption.

  He opens the revolver, checks the chamber—three bullets.

  BOWIE (CONT’D)

  One for you, one for me, and baby makes three.

  He enters the cave.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. BABEL TOWER LEDGE. NIGHT.

  Farrengalli emerges from the cave and goes to help Dove up the rope. She’s having a hard time climbing because she’s holding the cell phone. Farrengalli reaches down to her.

  FARRENGALLI

  Give me the phone.

  DOVE

  You did this.

  FARRENGALLI

  You asked for it, babe.

  DOVE

  You’re nothing—

  SKEEEE. The Castle-thing slams into her, flailing, uncoordinated, but determined. Farrengalli jumps away. Dove screams as fangs and claws tear into her flesh. The cell phone drops from her hands to the rocks far below.

  FARRENGALLI

  Women.

  CUT TO:

  INT.CAVE. NIGHT.

  Ace is waist-deep in the water, moving forward. The creatures are even more restless.

  ACE

  Don’t you angels read the papers? I got something for you. I got something for all the babykillers.

  One of the goregoyles swoops down toward the altar and Clara rolls off the side into t
he water. The MagLite beam casts a rippling line of light as she pushes away underwater.

  ACE (CONT’D)

  Ye shall know them by their works.

  Ace pulls out the C-4 explosive, rigged with wires, a timer, and a plunger. Clara bobs to the surface and a goregoyle homes in and heads for her.

  BOWIE

  Get underwater! They can’t see you.

  Clara slides back under the dark water as the goregoyle misses her and flies over the surface, confused, unable to locate her.

  Another one soars toward Bowie, who ducks as its knobby limbs brush his body.

  ACE

  Come out, Michael. Gabriel. Joshua. Hell, even Lucifer if you’re here and you’re not too chickenshit.

  Ace is almost to the altar, the creatures still not attacking him, though they are growing restless. The water is almost covering the altar as Ace starts climbing onto it, still holding the explosive.

  Bowie sees Clara’s Maglite beam underwater, she comes up for a quick gasp and is down again, swimming toward him. He eases into the water and meets her, drags her toward the mouth of the cave.

  BOWIE

  Come on, the place is flooding.

  CLARA

  Ace?

  A couple of goregoyles swoop toward them. Bowie fires the revolver at one and the sound melds with the rumble and trembling rocks. Ace is now on the altar, kneeling, holding up the explosives like a sacrament.

  ACE

  Deliver us from evil!

  He triggers the detonator—

  KA-WHOOM.

  Bowie and Clara are propelled out the mouth of the cave as water gushes out, boulders and rocks tumbling around them. The water pushes them away from the avalanche, though small stones bounce off Bowie’s back as he tries to shield Clara.

  They are dragged under the water, but Bowie hangs onto her, flailing and stroking as the current pulls them into the open air.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. BABEL TOWER LEDGE. MORNING.

  Farrengalli crawls out of the cave, exhausted, clothes rumpled. He’s wary as he slinks onto the ledge and checks out the gorge below. The storm has passed and the river is still swollen, but the sky is tranquil and sunrise is bloody but peaceful. Below, Raintree’s corpse still dangles upside down. Dove is nowhere to be seen.

  He checks the rope that Dove had secured, then eases down it. As he passes Raintree, Raintree’s limbs begin trembling. Raintree’s face is gray, he’s in mid-change, his body trying to reanimate.

  FARRENGALLI

  Sucks to be you, Chief. Guess ProVentures will need a new spokesman now.

  Just as Farrengalli starts rappeling down, Raintree’s milky eyes snap open.

  RAINTREE

  Skeeek.

  He swings out a claw but Farrengalli is already out of reach, hurrying down the rope. Raintree tries to fly but he’s too tangled in the rope. He plays out the slack and is yanked, and he slams back against the cliff. He tries it again. Same result. He’s pissed, skeeking and hissing his undead rage.

  FARRENGALLI

  Don’t worry, you’ll still get some publicity.

  He heads down the cliff face.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. RIVERBANK. MORNING.

  Clara and Bowie are safely below the jumbled cave-in, resting, Bowie scratched and bruised, Clara looking fresh.

  CLARA

  Why didn’t they attack Ace?

  BOWIE

  I don’t know. Maybe he really was a messenger.

  CLARA

  He was crazy.

  BOWIE

  Prophets are only crazy until they’re right.

  CLARA

  Well, don’t be expecting any virgin births.

  BOWIE

  The river comes out at a lake eight miles or so down. There’s a little town there.

  CLARA

  I can’t walk that far.

  Bowie scans the sky.

  BOWIE

  Let’s go to the camp. We hid a kayak there.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. CLEARING IN WOODS. MORNING.

  Farrengalli jogs into the camp where he’d left Castle. The makeshift canopy is still in place but sagging, the campfire dead. He runs to the place where he’d propped Castle, feels around in the bushes and pulls out a backpack.

  He opens it, rummages, pulls out Dove’s camera.

  FARRENGALLI

  Yeah, baby. Ticket to the stars.

  He shoves the camera back in the backpack, then goes into the woods and emerges, dragging the inflated Muskrat.

  FARRENGALLI (CONT’D)

  Last man on the island.

  (shouts)

  Hear that, losers? It’s only fucking natural.

  He heads toward the river with the kayak.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. RIVERBANK. MORNING.

  Farrengalli is putting the kayak in the water when Bowie and Clara appear. Farrengalli is momentarily surprised, then sees the gun in Bowie’s belt.

  FARRENGALLI

  Hey, Chief. Good to see you.

  Bowie glances around the camp.

  BOWIE

  Where are the others?

  Farrengalli wipes his index finger across his throat in a cutting motion.

  FARRENGALLI

  They’re meat, man.

  BOWIE

  Dove?

  FARRENGALLI

  The crazy injun took her up the tower. I heard the screams.

  CLARA

  Have they come back yet? Dead, I mean?

  FARRENGALLI

  Vampires don’t come out in the sunlight. Didn’t you know that?

  SKEEE-explosion of motion as the Dove-goregoyle soars out of the treetops and with one extended claw rakes Farrengalli’s throat open as she swoops by. Farrengalli falls to his knees, clutching his throat, blood spurting, as Dove-goregoyle banks and swoops again.

  Bowie draws his gun as she approaches, she peels her lips back, a gray grin full of teeth and he aims. The struggle is big on his face. He can’t shoot.

  The Dove-goregoyle slams into him and knocks the gun away. For a moment they are tangled in a sick parody of intercourse, Dove going for his throat as Bowie struggles to fight her off.

  Clara picks up the revolver and fires twice, the bullets smacking into Dove’s torso. Gray fluid oozes out of the wounds.

  The third time Clara pulls a trigger there’s a cold click. As they struggle, Bowie pulls a piton from Dove’s belt and jabs it repeatedly into her stomach, her torso lurching with the plunging motion. Bowie crawls on top of her, and for just a second her eyes are no longer milky.

  Bowie pauses with the piton in a two-handed grip, staring into her eyes.

  CLARA

  She’s dead, Bowie. Do it.

  Dove’s eyes go blank again and she hisses in anger, blood and drool spraying from her mouth.

  BOWIE

  It was never real.

  Bowie rams the piton into her skull and she quivers and falls still.

  CLARA

  That was no angel.

  BOWIE

  Nobody’s perfect.

  CUT TO:

  EXT.RIVER. DAY.

  Bowie paddles the Muskrat away from shore. In the camp, Farrengalli’s and Dove’s bodies are on a bonfire of dead trees and limbs. Oily smoke rises in the air.

  BOWIE

  First rule of the outdoors: leave no trace.

  CLARA

  What’s the second rule?

  Bowie stops paddling and secretly touches the gun crammed in his belt. He scans the sky.

  BOWIE

  God doesn’t care.

  They head downriver. From above, soaring POV up, up, to take in the gorge, the cliffs, a long stretch of river and the tiny raft below.

  Soaring, soaring, full speed toward the cliff, toward a small dark crevice, inside into blackness—

  SKEEEEEEE

  CUT TO BLACK

  Return to Table of Contents

  About Scott Nicholson:

  I have written 13 novels, i
ncluding the #1 bestseller in Mystery & Suspense Disintegration, The Skull Ring, The RedChurch, Speed Dating with the Dead, As I Die Lying, Drummer Boy, Liquid Fear, and Forever Never Ends. Other electronic works include Burial to Follow, Transparent Lovers, Crime Beat, and the story collections Ashes, The First, Head Cases, Murdermouth, Gateway Drug, Curtains, and Flowers. With J.R. Rain, I wrote the urban fantasies Cursed! and Ghost College, and, as L.C. Glazebrook, I wrote the paranormal romance October Girls. I live in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, where I play guitar, raise an organic garden, and work as a freelance fiction editor.

 

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