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 t
he 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 skeeking, 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.
DOVE
I never talk when my mouth is full. Now get down here and shut me up.
Raintree watches from the woods. He tosses down a pill.
CUT TO:
EXT. ROCKY CREVICE. MORNING.
SKEEK—a creature’s shriek fills the sky. Castle peers out of the mouth of a cave. Suddenly a creature’s face swings upside down from above, fangs glistening, tongue hanging. Castle screams.
Castle’s eyes snap open—he has been dreaming. He awakes groggy, looks around where he had pressed himself into a rocky crevice to hide. He pulls Samford’s toboggan from his pocket and fingers the frayed rip in it. He grips the Glock, his face hardening as he gets to his feet.
He looks off the ledge to the UnegamaRiver churning below.
CUT TO:
EXT. RIVERBANK. MORNING.
Ace carries the backpack, Clara beside him as they walk along the river. They reach a shallow, quieter stretch.
ACE
I figure we’ll head downriver. It comes out at a lake. We can steal a car and head for Montana.
Clara, pale, only nods.
ACE (CONT’D)
What’s the matter? Sardines ain’t good enough for you?
CLARA
I don’t feel so good.
Clara falls to her knees and retches. Ace goes over to her.
ACE
Shit, we don’t got much food. Can’t afford to waste it.
(softer)
Oh, come on, honey. Keep the faith.
CLARA
I can’t walk any farther.
Ace glowers, then looks upstream. A canoe is headed toward them, a middle-aged couple, PETE, 40’s, chubby, and JENNY, 40’s, way too made-up for the outdoors, both struggling to paddle the canoe. They wear white helmets that glisten in the sun.
ACE
The Lord provides.
CUT TO:
EXT. CAMP BY RIVER. MORNING.
Bowie emerges from the woods. The camp is mostly broken, the tents packed, equipment and backpacks piled near the campfire. A thin thread of smoke rises from the charred pit.
The rest of the group—Dove, Farrengalli, Raintree, and C.A.—are gathered around Travis, who is gushing about the two deflated ProVentures kayaks laid out before him. Bowie saunters up during the presentation. Dove deliberately ignores him.
TRAVIS
The ProVentures Muskrat is the latest breakthrough in whitewater adventure, double-layer rubberized nylon. Inflatable, it weighs four pounds, making it easy to pack out to remote areas.
Raintree attaches a portable air pump and begins inflating the first of two kayaks.
C.A.
Like a rubber ducky in a bathtub.
Travis tosses C.A. a small tube. He opens it and unlocks a telescoping paddle handle.
TRAVIS
Lightweight titanium paddles. Seats three. Carrying capacity of 800 pounds.
Dove elbows Farrengalli.
DOVE
(to Farrengalli)
Just enough to float your ego.
FARRENGALLI
Ride with me, baby, and you’ll see what weighs 800 pounds.
TRAVIS
Focus. This is serious. Right, Bowie?
BOWIE
The UnegamaRiver has some of the most dangerous stretches of whitewater in the eastern United States. Water hazard rankings run from Class One to Class Six, with “six” carrying the risk of death. Unegama ranges from three to six.
Raintree has inflated the first kayak and Travis nudges it with his foot to check the air pressure.
TRAVIS
The perfect place to test out the Muskrat.
(nods to Dove)
Which is why Dove’s media coverage is so important.
FARRENGALLI
Better put me in the centerfold.
C.A.
Let’s see who makes it to the end first, Little Italy.
BOWIE
This isn’t a reality show. This is reality. Let’s get these in the river. We should make BabelTower by early afternoon.
TRAVIS
(claps his hands)
You heard the boss. Let’s make a splash.
As the
group disperses to get their equipment, Farrengalli goes to Raintree, who is inflating the second raft. Farrengalli taps him on the back.
FARRENGALLI
Looks like too many chiefs and not enough injuns, huh?
Raintree keeps pumping.
CUT TO:
EXT. FOREST PATH. DAY.
Castle finds signs of Ace’s and Clara’s bedding—a matted place in the leaves, the dead campfire, an empty sardine can. A pair of rumpled, stained panties lays in the dirt.
CUT TO:
EXT. RIVERBANK. DAY.
Ace stands at the water’s edge and waves to Pete and Jenny, who paddle through a calm stretch of water. The canoe wobbles and their strokes are uncoordinated.
The Gorge: The Screenplay Page 2
