INT. AN OCEANSIDE BAR, LOCATED NEXT TO THE PIER (CONT)
Same BAR, same customers, same TV against the wall. Same mix of people with slightly-fishy eyes and pointy heads. BARTENDER's more on the fishier side of things.
JUSTIN and TOM are still seated in the same window booth they had been in previously. In front of them are plates with a remainder of food and a cameraphone leaning against a plastic cup of Pepsi.
JACK is seated across from them, arm resting with his slightly webbed fingers tapping along the back of the booth, starting to wish he were anywhere but where he was.
JACK
(whispers)
Hey, don't say that too loud!
TOM nudges JUSTIN; JUSTIN hits him back. TOM flips JUSTIN off and lays his chin on the palm of one of his hands, relinquishing the spat.
JUSTIN
(whispers, wiping his hair out of his eyes)
Sorry. Just, well, m... well, you were saying...?
JUSTIN looks fairly excited. He acts as though he's been waiting a long time to hear the answers to some important questions.
JACK looks around them. None of the customers appeared to be listening to them, but he knew. He knew they were listening. When the bartender winked, Jack broke the silence.
JACK
(under his breath, sliding out of the side of the booth)
We first need to get out of here.
JACK gets in his wallet and flips a couple of tens on the table. Grabbing the CAMERAPHONE, JUSTIN slides out of the booth followed by TOM. JUSTIN reaches in a pocket and puts out a five-dollar bill.
JUSTIN
(shrugs)
Tip?
Sighing, Jack shrugs too.
JACK
Sure. Whatever.
The THREE get up and leave the bar. A few sets of eyes go back to watching the television above the bar.
EXT. OUTSIDE OCEANSIDE SPRINGS - MID-DAY
The THREE exit the bar. Both FISHERMAN and TOURISTS walk back and forth in front of them on their ways to and from the pier.
TOM
So, where's a good idea for this interview, JACK?
JACK
At the end of the pier, maybe. Out where the deep sea fishermen stay.
JUSTIN
That's a great idea. Great ambiance for the shot too.
The FOUR of them start to walk down the pier. TOM hangs back a moment.
JUSTIN
(absently)
You coming, Tom?
TOM
Yeah, just gotta make a quick phone call. Mom texted.
JUSTIN and JACK walk down the pier. Tom pushes some buttons on his cell phone and raises it to his ear. After a few rings, the other end picks up.
CAYMAN (OS)
Kid, if this is a prank--
TOM
They're talking. Yes, now. I'll try to deflect, but if it comes out, it's your ass as much as it is mine.
TOM hangs up his RAZR phone and slips it into his pocket. He grins. JUSTIN and JACK have gotten way ahead of him and he starts to run to catch up.
EXT. END OF THE PIER -- DEEP SEA FISHERS ONLY
JUSTIN takes the selfie stick that he had, converts it into a tripod, and sets it down. The view we see through the CAMERAPHONE faces west into the beginning sunset. Pinks and oranges and yellowes are creeping in with the blues and the puffy whites of the clouds.
JUSTIN presses a button and takes a picture of said sunset.
At the bottom of the view of the vanishing sun, we see a greenish-blue railing around us with an opening to a second floor with signs that say "Area reserved for deep sea fishermen".
Leaning on that greenish-blue railing with both elbows is JACK. JACK is somewhat in the shadow so that his facial features are silhouetted.
JUSTIN stands next to him, facing him.
JUSTIN
(looking at the camera)
We are here with Joe -- obviously not his real name. Hi Joe and thanks for being here tonight.
JACK
(looking at the camera, voice has been modifed to sound deeper)
Hi Justin. It's a pleasure.
JACK shifts arouns a little bit, but stays in the shadows as much as possible.
JUSTIN
(looking into the camera)
So, you told me over the phone, you were a member of this... um, Cult of Cthulhu, right?
JACK
(in a modified voice)
I did.
JUSTIN
Has a cult been around here long?
JACK
(in a modified voice)
Long enough. Since the early times, I would imagine.
JUSTIN
Long enough to, maybe, remember--
TOM (O.S.)
(interrupting, out of breath from running)
Hey, guys!
JUSTIN
Hey, Tom, you finally caught up.
TOM (O.S.)
Yeah, ran all the way here.
TOM arrives next to JUSTIN, keeping JACK in the shadow. It's almost as they've done this type of interview before.
TOM (CONT)
So, did you ask a question? Is it my turn?
JUSTIN
(a litle frustrated)
I was going to ask about... about...
TOM
(kicks a rock)
Justin, man, it's been what? A year already... You know she's gone.
JACK
(interrupts)
I can--
JUSTIN
It's been a year and 4 days, 13 hours and 4 minutes. Don't you think I know how long it's been?
TOM
I thought you had let go. We're not going to find her like this.
JACK
(interrupts louder, looking from JUSTIN to TOM then back to JUSTIN)
Find who?
JUSTIN
(clears his throat)
Let's not discuss that here. Sure, it's your turn.
The sound of a PISTOL rings out. JUSTIN and TOM duck while, it seems the unknowing victim is JACK.
The first round goes in JACK's upper chest, most likely piercing a lung.
JUSTIN and TOM run their separate ways, bending down and trying to hide from an invisible shooter.
Another PISTOL shot.
Blood gushes from JACK's shoulder and throat.
JUSTIN
(screaming)
Goddamnit!
TOM returns to JACK while JUSTIN goes and looks for the shooter.
EXT. RUNNING DOWN THE PIER -- SUNSET
JUSTIN dashes in the direction he thinks the shots came from. Sees nothing but people. The pier has turned its lights on which makes it a little easier, yet harder at the same time. So many people are fishing tonight. It seems a bit ridiculous -- like the entire town is out fishing on the pier.
So many of the people have similar malformations to JACK. Their heads are more pointed than average, their eyes look flat and empty, their hands have the same slight webbing that JACK's did. He can't help but feel watched.
EXT. END OF THE PIER -- DEEP SEA FISHERS ONLY (CONT)
TOM watches JUSTIN run off and he turns to look at JACK. Trying not to panic, TOM checks for a pulse and doesn't find one. JACK has long given up the ghost, having had his throat torn out by a pistol shot.
TOM'S PHONE rings. Ignoring it, TOM looks at JACK'S CORPSE and, with one foot, he picks through the man's pockets, finding his WALLET. He picks up the wallet and dusts it off, opening it. A few dollar bills and a picture.
TOM
(a little shakily)
You didn't have to kill him.
EXT. BEGINNING OF THE PIER -- NIGHT
JUSTIN dodges one person and accidentally pushes another up against the pier's bait shop wall. He shuts his eyes because he doesn't want to see what the frog-like men look like up close. The smell of rotten fish washes over him and he gags a little before he gets himself under control and apologizes to the man.
At the end of the pier, JUSTIN looks. There are two ways to go: left down the road or right into OCEANSIDE SPRINGS. Neither seem as appealing as going back and finding out what's happened to JACK.
JUSTIN starts to head back the opposite way. Behind him, a Corvette Stingray with the license plate "MANTA" peels out of the parking lot for OCEANSIDE SPRINGS, but not before Justin spots the license plate under a streetlight.
JUSTIN
(confused, muttering)
Mark Cayman?
EXT. END OF THE PIER -- DEEP SEA FISHERS ONLY (CONT)
JUSTIN walks over to what makes him think of a slaughterhouse. JACK is obviously dead, splayed out in an inhuman manner. TOM's watching him.
TOM
I called the police and they should be here any minute.
JUSTIN
(punches the air in front of him)
I shoulda... I should have got the information when I had the chance.
(sighing)
Oh Lucy...
TOM
JUSTIN, it's okay. I would have gone nuts if my sister had disappeared too.
JUSTIN
(kicks a rock)
Yeah, but was he my only hope? I mean, do you know how many crazy idiotic people I have interviewed over the years and now... this one... (laughs slightly) this one was supposed to be able to tell me where she was. And now...
JUSTIN looks down at what is left of JACK. The first bullet had gone straight through his ribs to his lung. The second one ripped most of his throat out and he suffocated to death.
JUSTIN (CONT)
I mean, he told me her name.
TOM
Whose name?
JUSTIN
My sister's name, dumbass. Aren't you listening?
TOM
It was something like... Lisa?
EXT. HONEY ISLAND SWAMP -- NIGHT
It is NIGHT and the TRIBESMAN GIRLS have bedded for the night.
It is the only time LUCY KING is left alone in the CAMP. SECOND TRIBESMAN usually has his eye on her. He thinks she has tried to escape. He is wrong: she hasn't tried to escape. Once she watched someone else try to escape and the smell of the punishment caused her to be sick.
LUCY doesn't remember what happened to her or why she was with the TRIBESMEN.
She doesn't know what happened to her BROTHER whom she knew she _was_ with.
The sound of GUNS permeates the night as it usually does.
Lucy feels a nudge and hears a whisper.
MYRTLINE
(whispering)
LUCY, do you want to curl up with me? SECOND is gone, off with the LADY and GUNNERS.
LUCY
(whispering)
Do you think we'll ever be able to esc--
MYRTLINE put her hand over LUCY'S MOUTH.
MYRTLINE
(whispering even lower)
Not even the word.
LUCY curls up with MYRTLINE.
LUCY
(whispering)
I hope if, no, _when_ I see my family again, I'm still me and I don't want to eat them.
-----------------
So, I learned more in this draught. I've learned I like screenplay writing like this. I don't write very quickly but I like what I did this week. I took the draughts that came before and reread them then took notes on a couple things and figured some of it out. Some of this draught came from planning and some came from out of nowhere :)
I think I have Justin almost where I want him.
I hope I left it in a good spot. :)
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