by J. R. Rain
The slave master, ABDULLAH, speaks rapidly to her in Arabic. His words are SUPERIMPOSED across the screen.
ABDULLAH
Today you ride Sultan Shimbala’s camel.
If you value your life, you would do well not
to fall off this time.
TESSLA
Yes, Master Abdullah.
He finishes tying her down and whips her camel forward. It suddenly snorts and bucks violently. Tessla would have been thrown off if not for the securing leather straps. Instead, she’s tossed about like a rag doll. The slaver grins wickedly and tends to the other young jockeys.
When he’s gone, a young boy next to Tessla begins crying softly. The girl puts a comforting hand on his knee, and when she speaks, she does so in Bangladeshi, her words SUPERIMPOSED across the screen.
TESSLA
Do not cry, Shan’ji.
They will punish you if you cry.
SHAN’JI
I do not care.
Tessla looks around and then leans closer to the boy. She whispers conspiratorially into his ear.
TESSLA
I’m going home today, Shan’ji.
SHAN’JI
But...how?
TESSLA
My mother has found help. An American.
Do you remember the young Sultan
who visited the camels last night?
SHAN’JI
Yes. He was very kind. He gave me candy.
TESSLA
He was no Sultan. That was the American.
A boy, really. Just a few years older than me.
He is going to help.
SHAN’JI
Can I come, too, Tessla? Please!
I will be good.
TESSLA
Shh! I promise I will come back for you,
Shan’ji. I swear this. I will not let them
keep hurting you.
EXT. THE MAKESHIFT BLEACHERS – DAY
A man wearing a head cloth and robe is working his way beneath the crowded bleachers, hidden from view. He pauses briefly and looks out over the race track. He watches as Abdullah, the slave master, beats one of the children jockeys. As the man watches the brutal display, his eyes narrow to pinpoints of steel. This is no ordinary Omanian. In fact, this is our hero, twenty-year-old JACK ROME, son of an American colonel stationed at a nearby U.S. Army base.
EXT. AT THE STARTING GATE
Tessla, sitting high on her camel, spots Jack Rome in the distance. She smiles to herself.
EXT. BACK TO JACK
He slips under the bleachers and into a massive tent that doubles as the camel stalls. There’s a sign hanging on the tent flap, written in Arabic. Through the wonders of computer magic, we watch as the words rearrange themselves into English. It reads: STAY OUT.
EXT. BLEACHERS
A guard spots Jack slipping into the camel stalls. The armed man changes course and heads toward the stalls, calling for backup on his radio.
INT. CAMEL STALLS
Searching through the stalls, Jack finds a suitable camel. He opens the stable gate and, pulling it by its reins, he spends the next few seconds trying to get the creature out. But the camel will have none of it—and promptly spits a glob of snot in Jack’s face. The young man wipes his eyes.
JACK
Disgusting.
In the background, A RACE ANNOUNCER, speaking quickly in Arabic, announces the start of the race. Jack listens briefly, then kicks into high gear.
JACK
C’mon, you cranky old goat.
We don’t have much time!
Now the camel bucks violently, and Jack does all he can just to hang on to the reins. In a wonderfully athletic and dangerous move, the young American leaps onto the creature’s back. The camel bucks some more, but Jack is like a parasite and won’t fall off. Finally the beast settles down.
JACK
Now that’s better.
EXT. STARTING GATE
The camel jockeys/children are all gaunt and malnourished. In fact, they have been purposefully starved to achieve the lightest weight possible to race the rich sultans’ and amirs’ camels. As the race is about to begin, the camels are positioned by handlers into the starting gate...
EXT. OUTSIDE THE CAMEL STALLS
Two burly guards are now moving determinedly toward the stalls—
EXT. RACETRACK
A man raises a starting pistol. A beat. The camels seem anxious, ready to run. The children look nervous. The pistol fires—and the camels bolt forward in a thundering cloud of dust. The ground itself shakes with their passing.
WIDE CAMERA shot of the camels racing. The children look like Bobbleheads bouncing atop their respective camels. Only the leather straps seem to keep these kidnapped Bangladeshi children from falling off and being trampled to death.
Tessla is in the thick of the pack. She keeps her head down and uses her whip to urge her mount forward. Slowly, she pulls away from the rest of the camels.
EXT. IN THE BLEACHERS
SULTAN SHIMBALA, a middle-aged man dressed in a gold embroidered head cloth, looks on with imperialistic pleasure, grinning wildly as his camel takes the lead. Next to him, a young boy/slave fans him. Shimbala, caught in the moment, leaps to his feet, shouting, urging his camel forward.
INT. CAMEL STALLS
Jack Rome, who has gained some semblance of control over the camel, pulls aside the rear tent flap and watches as the race progresses. The camels, in fact, are coming toward him, and he sees little Tessla in the lead. He smiles.
JACK
Just one more minute, Tessla.
Suddenly a man’s voice speaks angrily from behind him.
MAN
(in Arabic, with subtitles)
You there! What are you doing
with the sultan’s camel?
Jack whips around. Standing there are the two Arab guards, each brandishing curved scimitars.
JACK
Shit.
(in perfect Arabic, with subtitles)
I am the the sultan’s trainer. Now go away.
I’ve got work to do.
Jack turns his back contemptuously on them, but in reality we see that he’s terrified.
EXT. FINISH LINE
Great clouds of dust hover over the desert floor, stirred up by the pounding hooves of the dozen or so camels. Tessla’s in the lead, hunkered down low, face set in grim determination.
The track is surrounded by tents and old trucks and camels and milling caravans. The charging camels are stretched out, as some lag far behind. The camels themselves run awkwardly, their ungainly legs never meant for sprinting, completely lacking the grace of thoroughbred horses.
INT. CAMEL STALLS
The armed guards advance deeper into the stalls. One of them raises his scimitar menacingly before him.
GUARD #1
Remove your headcloth.
Sweat drips steadily down Jack’s face. His panicked eyes desperately scan the cluttered stalls, which are filled with all manner of grooming tools and racing equipment. Suddenly, the crowd outside erupts in a wild cheer.
EXT. FINISH LINE
And we see why. Tessla easily wins. Her handler steps out to take her reins, but instead of slowing down, the little girl cracks her whip across the camel’s flank—
The remaining camels and riders cross the finish line behind her. One of the trailing jockeys, sitting high atop the camel, suddenly points, laughing. Others look as well, and soon a chorus of laughter and hoots and shouts erupt among the children.
EXT. THE BLEACHERS
With his race camel victorious, Sultan Shimbala waves a triumphant fist. He’s immediately congratulated by those in his royal entourage—until one of them suddenly points toward the finish line. Shimbala looks. His eyes narrow, and his wide grin turns quickly into a frown.
EXT. BEYOND THE FINISH LINE
And we see why. Tessla’s camel continues forward, thundering passed her Arab handler with no hint of slowing down. The man run
s out in front of her, raising his arms to stop her, but she whips her camel even harder, urging it forward, bearing down on the little man.
EXT. STARTING GATE
Slaver Abdullah steps forward, shielding his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. He turns to his men and barks an angry order to those around him.
ABDULLAH
(in Arabic, subtitles)
Get the trucks!
EXT. BEYOND THE FINISH LINE
Her camel slams into the handler, flinging him through the air. He lands hard, rolling. Tessla looks back over her shoulder, a look of extreme satisfaction on her dust-covered face. She whips the camel’s rear even harder, leaning forward.
TESSLA
HE-ahh!
INT. CAMEL STALL
The guards, distracted by the cheers, look away. As they do so, Jack springs into action. He grabs the handle of a shovel and swings it around hard, cracking it across the temple of the first guard . The man goes spinning away, out cold. The second guard, infuriated, lunges forward, thrusting his scimitar. Jack parries the blade instinctively with the shovel handle, and kicks the man in the face.
The camel rears up on its hind legs. Jack struggles to stay in the saddle, and through sheer force of will he gains some semblance of control over the humped beast.
And with a final look at the two guards sprawled across the stable floor, Jack pulls aside the rear tent flap, snaps the camel reins and digs his heels, and dashes out into the open air.
WIDE CAMERA SHOT on the camel race track, as young Jack tears across the desert, cutting across at an angle toward the finish line.
Now that he’s in the open, Jack throws aside his head cloth, revealing his boyishly handsome face. And because he’s moving at an angle from the bleachers and camel stalls, he’s soon upon the finish line. There, he weaves his way between the milling camels and young jockeys.
In the distance, far ahead of him, is little Tessla. She has a significant lead on him. Jack whips his camel hard, urging the beast forward.
EXT. STARTING GATE
A half-dozen off-road vehicles roar to life. Abdullah the Slaver stands in the passenger seat of a convertible Jeep. The vehicle takes off, tires spinning wildly, kicking up sand. Abdullah is almost thrown from the Jeep, but manages to hold on. He glares at the driver, who looks sheepish. And as they depart, Abdullah raises his voice loudly for all to hear:
ABDULLAH
(in Arabic, subtitles)
Remember, do not harm the Sultan’s camels!
EXT. DESERT, FROM JACK’S POINT OF VIEW
He still trails far behind Tessla. As he rides hard, he looks back over his shoulders and sees the off-road vehicles bounding over the desert like iron wolves on the hunt. Jack cracks his whip and snaps the reins. The camel hurls forward.
Ahead of him, Tessla turns and disappears behind a rocky protrusion. Jack, riding low and hard, angles his camel toward the same protrusion. As he rounds it, he immediately comes upon little Tessla waiting for him in the shade of a rock overhang. She has already tossed aside her helmet, now revealing a long mane of shiny black hair.
TESSLA
(halting English)
You came back for me.
JACK
I’m a man of my word.
Jack removes a long dagger, raises it, and SEVERS the leather cords that bind her legs to the camel. Then he takes her hand and swings her over onto his own mount, where she lands behind him, clutching him tightly around the waist. He snaps the reins hard, digs his heals into the camel’s sides, and they shoot off together. As they ride, Jack looks back at the girl.
JACK
You okay back there?
Tessla nods, smiling contentedly. She presses her cheek into his back and holds on for dear life.
BACK TO THE JEEPS: A dumfounded Abdullah watches one of the sultan’s racing camels trot off into the desert, empty of its rider. Perplexed, he orders one of his men to retrieve it.
Suddenly, darting out from the cover of the rocky buttress, dashes the second camel, now with two riders. Abdullah frantically motions to one of his men, ordering him to take the high road over a series of hills. The Jeep veers off and heads up a trail. Abdullah and the remaining vehicles continue forward, following the single camel with its two riders.
BACK TO JACK: Who’s riding hard directly down the center of the canyon. Sheer rock walls rise up high on either side. A shadow suddenly falls over him and he looks up and sees the Jeep bearing down on him from high above.
Jack spies a side alley in the canyon wall. He turns the camel hard to the right, except the creature doesn’t exactly turn on a dime. It brakes, stumbling, and then plunges into the small side opening. In here, boulders are strewn everywhere; luckily, the lumbering beast is able to pick its way carefully over them. The boulders could be a blessing, as they would surely block the path of the Jeeps...
They round a bend and come face-to-face with a sheer wall. Blocked.
JACK
Damn.
He pulls the reins hard and turns the unruly creature around. It snorts, fighting him. Tessla holds on tight.
EXT. IN THE MAIN CANYON
Abdullah and the others brake at the spot where Jack disappeared. Boulders block their way. In frustration, the head slaver curses colorfully in Arabic.
ABDULLAH
Son of a filthy whore—
Suddenly, a massive shadow falls over him. Abdullah looks up in surprise—and horror. Camel hooves slam down on Abdullah’s Jeep, completely crumpling the hood. The camel’s hooves kick furiously, trying to grab traction. One of the hooves shatters Abdullah’s window. Finally the camel leaps off, hitting the ground running. Steam issues from the Jeep’s engine. The vehicle’s been completely destroyed. The slaver hurries over to the second Jeep, and urges the driver forward.
EXT. ABOVE THE CANYON
The third Jeep, following high above, heads back down and circles back into the canyon from the far end. Jack and this vehicle are on a head-on collision course.
BACK TO JACK: He sees the Jeep coming at him fast. Except there’s no escape—and no where to run. The young adventurer reaches inside his robe...and removes an Army-issued pistol. He holds it before him, taking aim.
FROM THE JEEP: One of the slavers stands in the passenger seat, and takes aim with his automatic rifle. It’s a jousting match with guns instead of lances. Both men charging at each other. One in a Jeep, one on a camel.
BACK TO JACK: The young man pulls the trigger to his handgun rapidly. The gunshots echo through the canyon. Jack’s aim is surprisingly good, and the results are better than he could have expected. A bullet rips through a front tire, sending the Jeep careening out of control. It slams into a canyon wall, crumpling.
Whether those inside are hurt or dead, we’ll never know, and neither does Jack care. The young hero thunders by with barely a glance at the steaming vehicle. Tessla keeps her eyes shut and holds on tight.
WIPE TO: The canyon now opens up into a wide stretch of empty flat desert. Jack is riding low on the camel, urging it to run faster and faster. He occasionally looks back. Behind them, the remaining Jeep is gaining on him. Abdullah is riding high in the passenger seat, aiming at Jack with his own automatic weapon.
The young man reaches inside his robe and removes an Army-issued walkie-talkie. He clicks it on, speaks rapidly:
JACK
Crooney, you there?
But there’s no response.
WIDE SHOT on the desert, as we see that this particular stretch of sand will soon end in a steep cliff. Below is a thousand foot drop.
JACK
Crooney, you there?!
There’s some harsh crackling from his walkie-talkie, and then:
CROONEY
Keep your panties on, boy. If the Colonel knew
what I was doing he would have my hide.
JACK
I’ll deal with my dad later.
CROONEY
Where are you?
JACK
&nbs
p; I’m coming up on you fast.
CROONEY
You need a bird?
Suddenly, a bullet whizzes past Jack’s ear.
JACK
Hell, yeah, I need a bird!
But the walkie-talkie is shot out of his hand. He’s rapidly approaching the cliff’s edge—
Now a massive military helicopter rises up from the cliff like a black-winged angel. Jack grins broadly, relieved. The chopper hovers directly in front of him. Two soldiers are standing at its open side hatch. Jack pulls back on the reins hard, and the camel goes into a long screeching halt, kicking up dirt and rocks, which shower down over the edge of the cliff and into the gorge far below.
