THE GORGE screenplay (2 page)

CUT TO:

EXT. RIVERSIDE. NIGHT.

Roar of waterfall. Muted flicker of campfire. VIC FARRENGALLI, 28, dark Italian stud, stands at the river’s edge, hands cupped like a megaphone, bellowing into the churning boom of the UnegamaRiver.

FARRENGALLI

It’s only fuckin’ naturaaaaal!

CUT TO:

EXT. CAMP BY RIVER. NIGHT.

Members of the ProVentures rafting expedition are gathered around the campfire. Six individual pup tents are scattered around the sandy clearing. The air is misty.

BOWIE WHITLOCK, 35, is the leader, rugged, wounded, cold. He sits a little apart on a fallen log and appears to be dozing or meditating.

DOVE KRUEGER, 30, tan and gorgeous, a tank top and shorts showing off her shape. She’s checking out a camera that dangles by a strap from her neck.

TRAVIS LANE

, 40, pale, restless, chews a granola bar bearing the label “ProVentures” and a slanted green P for a logo.

C.A. McKAY, 25, California good looks, wears a snug biking outfit. He sits close to Dove, putting climbing ropes, pitons and belaying rings into a backpack.

DOVE

At least Farrengalli has the company slogan down.

TRAVIS

He’d better. ProVentures is paying plenty for this trip.

C.A.

Glad they sent you along to keep reminding us.

TRAVIS

(to C.A.)

You could use the publicity. So much for being the next Lance Armstrong.

C.A. visibly tenses, his mouth twitching.

C.A.

I made the last cover of
Cycling News
. ProVentures is getting plenty for its money.

TRAVIS

We only sponsor winners, so get on the winning team for a change.

DOVE

Cool it, Travis.

Dove points the camera at C.A. as if she’s going to take his picture.

DOVE (CONT’D)

(flirting)

I’ll make him look good.

C.A. gives a sexy smirk and relaxes. Farrengalli steps from the darkness into the campfire’s glow.

FARRENGALLI

Hey, Sweet Cheeks, don’t waste film on that two-wheel cowboy.

(flexes like bodybuilder)

Save it for the Italian sausage.

DOVE

You’re all meat. Especially your head.

FARRENGALLI

You just been hanging out with these soft boys too long.

(to Travis)

Hey, dude, got any more of those nutty bars?

(TV commercial voice)

‘The ProVentures N-R-Gee Bar. Nature’s tasty boost.’ How’s that? Ready for a new spokesman?

TRAVIS.

We have Raintree signed up for the next three years, but have your agent give us a call.

He tosses Farrengalli one of the bars. Farrengalli rips it open and shoves the whole thing in his mouth. He looks around.

FARRENGALLI

(mouth full)

Where is the redskin, anyway? Hunting buffalo?

DOVE

Don’t be a prick.

C.A.

You are what you eat.

FARRENGALLI

Watch it, sissy boy. I’m not the one going around pumping my ass on a teeny leather seat.

Farrengalli tosses the wrapper on the ground. Bowie at last comes alive. He addresses Farrengalli in a firm, even voice.

BOWIE

Pick it up. If you’re into slogans, here’s one for you: Leave no trace.

Farrengalli looks as if he’s about to snap back, but he bends and retrieves the wrapper, then tosses it in the fire.

TRAVIS

Anybody seen Raintree? We can’t have anybody getting lost before we’ve even started down the river.

BOWIE

Raintree’s only lost when he wants to be.

CUT TO:

EXT.FOREST. NIGHT.

ROBERT RAINTREE, 30, Native American, muscular, is shirtless. He stands in the trees, the river a distant wash. He pulls a leather pouch from his waistband, holds it to his chest, and gazes up through the canopy toward the moon.

RAINTREE

(half chanting)

Great Spirit of my Cherokee ancestors, give me a vision. Give me strong medicine. Show me my destiny.

He waits, an owl hoots, leaves whisk in the wind. Nothing.

RAINTREE (CONT’D)

Screw it.

He opens the pouch and pulls out a black pill and a red pill.

RAINTREE (CONT’D)

White man medicine heap’m stronger.

He tosses the pills in his mouth and heads through the forest. Above him, unseen, a creature flits across the moon.

CUT TO:

EXT. GORGE LEDGE. NIGHT.

Castle struggles at last onto solid ground and rolls over onto his back, looking at the sky, catching his breath.

CASTLE

Turkey vulture. Bald Eagle. Giant kingfisher. Mutant pterodactyl. Fuck it. That didn’t happen.

He rolls over, crawls, exhausted. He finds Samford’s gun and toboggan.

CASTLE (CONT’D)

Well,
something
happened. My partner’s gone.

CUT TO:

EXT. RIVERBANK. NIGHT.

Ace, wearing the backpack, runs down a trail through woods, river distant. He comes to a sudden stop, sniffs the air like an animal. Smiles.

ACE

Clara. Get your ass out here.

Nothing.

ACE (CONT’D)

Clara.

Leaves quiver. Clara stumbles from the underbrush.

ACE (CONT’D)

You hiding from me?

CLARA

No, Ace, I thought you were one of the agents.

Ace opens his backpack, tosses out a couple of cans, lightening his load. He pulls out a flashlight.

ACE

Don’t ever skip out on me. I’ll come after you.

CLARA

I wouldn’t leave you, Ace.

Ace flicks on flashlight and holds it beneath his face. He looks demonic.

ACE

Damn right you wouldn’t. I see things. Smell things. Know things.

CLARA

Did you kill them? Like that man in Atlanta?

ACE

In God’s army, you ain’t ever fightin’ alone.

Ace grabs her arm and pushes her along the trail.

ACE (CONT’D)

Come on. These woods will be crawling with feds in a few days.

CLARA

Where are we going?

ACE

Anywhere but jail.

CUT TO:

EXT. CAMP BY RIVER. NIGHT.

Dove pokes at the fire. Farrengalli sits on the other side of Dove, a little too close. C.A. mouths a harmonica. Travis is tired, drowsy. Bowie and Raintree are nowhere to be seen.

C.A. runs a scale on the harmonica and then blows a riff—the opening to “Dueling Banjoes.”

FARRENGALLI

Hey, it’s that hillbilly cornhole song.

SKEEK
—the piecing cry echoes down the walls of the gorge, barely audible above the waterfall. Travis snaps to attention.

TRAVIS

What the hell was that?

FARRENGALLI

Owl or something.

TRAVIS

That sounded big enough to eat a whale.

Raintree walks out of the forest into firelight.

RAINTREE

A raven mocker. Ancient Cherokee shapeshifter.

FARRENGALLI

Hey, no need for that Injun voodoo. You’re going to scare the lady here.

(nods at C.A.)

And Dove, too.

C.A. jumps up and looms over Farrengalli, his fists balled. Bowie appears out of nowhere, stepping between them. Farrengalli rises slowly, a cool grin on his face. C.A. tries to push past Bowie, who holds him firm.

C.A.

(points at Farrengalli)

I’m about tired of your shit! You’re just a reality-show reject.

BOWIE

Cool it, C.A. We’ve got 13 miles of mean white water ahead of us. You better save your fighting for the current.

Dove watches with interest, Travis is appalled. Raintree folds his arms and waits it out. C.A. relaxes just a little. Farrengalli doesn’t blink.

FARRENGALLI

I earned my place on the expedition. That show was legit.

TRAVIS

Gentlemen, let’s not forget the true purpose of this trip. It’s all about ProVentures.

BOWIE

You heard the boss. Let’s hit the sack. We launch at daybreak.

C.A. glares at Farrengalli, who is looking toward the river. Travis leads C.A. toward the tents. Raintree has slipped away again.

FARRENGALLI

Nobody better fuck up my bonus.

BOWIE

It’s all or nothing. This is a team effort, and you better get on board with it.

Farrengalli walks toward his tent. Dove and Bowie are alone by the fire.

DOVE

Nice moves.

BOWIE

Look, the Matterhorn was a mistake. That wasn’t real.

DOVE

(hurt)

Believe me, loverboy, I was faking.

She moves away but he grips her arm.

BOWIE

Not this time, Dove. We can’t afford to play games.

DOVE

“Team effort.” You still trying to grow a chin? Or just trying to redeem yourself?

BOWIE

There’s no redemption.

DOVE

It’s been five years. You can’t take the blame forever.

BOWIE

Damn you, I told you never to mention her.

Dove shrugs free and moves away.

DOVE

Maybe you should try growing a soul instead.

Raintree watches silently from the edge of the woods.

CUT TO:

EXT.FOREST. NIGHT.

Castle staggers through the dark woods, following the roar of the river. He emerges along the riverbank, breathing hard, lost.

SKEEK
—the shriek is just above the treetops. Castle ducks back among boulders as a large shadow swoops overhead.

CUT TO:

EXT. RIVERBANK. NIGHT.

Clara and Ace at a small campfire. Ace is sprawled on a blanket, the Colt Python by his side. Clara sits by the fire, staring into it.

ACE

You’re part of something special, you know that?

CLARA

I don’t feel so special.

Ace takes off his jacket, rolls it up, and uses it like a pillow.

ACE

Sometimes you just got to keep on the path till you find your purpose. I used to be a little hellraiser myself, then the Lord took me in and it all made sense.

CLARA

Blowing up abortion clinics?

ACE

Killing babies is wrong ‘cause babies are innocent. I’m killing babykillers.

CLARA

It’s all got to end somewhere.

ACE

It will. I got big plans. For both of us.

(pats the blanket)

Now get over here and lay down. You talk too much.

Clara lays down beside him, stiff and still. As Ace crawls over her and unbuttons her shirt, she stares past his shoulder to the sky. Two winged shadows flit across the face of the moon.

CUT TO:

INT.CAVE. NIGHT.

Darkness. Shallow breathing. Scratching sounds. Faint flicker of leathery wings. Low moan of pain.

Flashlight clicks on. The light reveals stone walls and moist stalactites. Unsteady beam sweeps slowly around, revealing rock and utter darkness on every side. Something skitters just at the edge of the light, ducking back into darkness at the touch of the light. Breathing grows more rapid.

Derek Samford lies on a flat stone, clothes torn, scratches and bite marks on his face. He wipes his neck and looks at blood on his fingers. He tries to sit up but is too weak.

SAMFORD

(gasp)

Shit.

Flickering shadows at edge of light. Samford, barely able to move, rolls the flashlight across his chest toward the sound.

SAMFORD

Hey? Castle?

More flickering. A small
SKEEK
. Samford touches his holster, feels it empty. He plays brave.

SAMFORD

Should have known that bastard would rig a bomb. A concussion does funny things to your head.

More s
keek
ing, the leathery whispers of wings increase. A creature streaks overhead, wing tip brushing Samford’s cheek.

SAMFORD

I thought I was flying there for a while. HQ will send me to a headshrinker for sure.

More skittering, swell of movement at the edge of the beam. Samford musters his strength and raises his arm toward the movement. Fleeting image of a wrinkled face, blend of reptile and bat, slanted red eyes—then it flits back into shadow.

SAMFORD

(shaky)

Castle?

Shadow swoops in, a tongue flickers out and licks the blood on Samford’s neck. He turns away—there’s another creature’s face on the other side. Lips peel back, revealing jagged yellow teeth, a monstrous predator’s grin. A contented
SKEEK
escapes the creature’s mouth.

Flashlight falls to the stone floor and goes out.

As Samford screams, the cave explodes with sound and movement. The scream is drowned out by dozens of bat-like
SKEEKS
and the flapping of wings, the clack of claws on stone, the wet snuffling of feeding time...

CUT TO:

EXT.FOREST—THE NEXT MORNING.

Birdsong. The wet wash of the waterfall. Early morning mist, trees damp with dew. Sky is gray with first light.

Bowie steps quietly away from the river, a towel over his shoulder. He is wearing a drysuit, the front zipped down to his crotch.

Dove steps into his path, a towel wrapped around her nude body. Her hair is wet and wild.

DOVE

Your ass is so white, I thought it was a full moon.

BOWIE

You get enough sleep?

Dove moves closer to the uneasy Bowie.

DOVE

Wasn’t sleepy.

BOWIE

We’re done with this, remember.

She is on him now, smiles down at his drysuit, letting her towel slip a little.

DOVE

Early riser. Just like always.

BOWIE

We’re done.

Dove embraces him, kisses his neck, lets one hand slide down below his waist.

DOVE

We’re just getting started.

BOWIE

Stop.

But he grips her hair, kisses her, hugs her as she slides down to her knees before him, busy with her hands. She grins up at him and licks her lips.

DOVE

Stop now?

BOWIE

(pulling her head forward)

I don’t love you.

DOVE

I never asked you to.

BOWIE

The others can’t find out...

Dove’s towel slips to the ground and she tugs Bowie down onto it to lie beside her.