Cell Page #3

---

- Good for you, Jordan.

Yes, sir.

That's what the Head

said, too.

Charles Ardai.

Headmaster.

Quite a problem these

cell phones have caused

now, isn't it?

( chuckles )

The devil's intercom

is what I used to call them.

Nice.

It's apt.

Clay:

What's with the music?

Did you ever play

musical chairs as a child?

- Yeah.

- Well, as long as the music

doesn't stop,

we've got nothing

to worry about.

We'll have a quick peek,

then we'll go over to

Cheatham Lodge for dinner.

It's not 200 yards to

Tonney Field, I promise.

( music continues )

Alice:

Holy sh*t.

Is the music coming

from their phones?

Charles:

Don't worry,

they won't wake up.

Tom:

How can you be

so sure of that?

Observe.

- What the hell

are you doing?

- ( c*cks gun )

Charles:

No, no, he's calm.

He's calm.

I could put my sword cane

right through his throat

and he wouldn't

try to stop me.

Nor would those around him

spring to his defense.

Of course, if I tried

it in the daylight,

they'd tear me limb

from limb.

The music comes from

their mouths, too.

It's not hardly a whisper,

but you can hear it.

- Come here.

- That's got to be

your imagination.

- There's no way that

they're actually talking.

- Come listen.

It's like

they don't breathe.

I can hear it.

I can hear it.

How is that even possible

without a transmitter?

They are transmitting.

It's a new skill they seem

to have picked up.

And they're changing

at an alarming rate.

Alice:

Can we please move

this conversation inside?

Please.

Charles:

We cannot overestimate

the developmental leaps

we're witnessing here.

They appear

to be eusocial.

Like a colony

of bees or ants.

They act for the good

of the group as a whole.

There's no competitiveness,

no selfishness.

In fact,

they may be the next

stage in human evolution.

Every human

on planet Earth

will be part

of one giant organism.

No individuality.

No privacy. Come on.

No war.

No resource depletion.

- No conflict.

- No, thank you.

As to what they're doing

at night as they lie

there so still,

open-eyed and listening

to their music,

we think

they're rebooting.

Yeah, I mean,

they might as well have

"software updating,

please stand by" blinking

on their foreheads.

You mean they had

their brains wiped?

Yeah, I mean,

what is a brain?

It's just a big

old hard drive.

Organic circuitry.

No one knows

how many bytes.

Like, giga to the power

of googolplex, let's say.

An infinity of bytes.

If your brain

were an info strip

on a hard drive,

it would say something like

2% in use, 98% available.

Holmes, you astound me.

- I love cybernetics.

- Ah.

Cyberpunk fiction, too.

William Gibson.

Clay:

Neal Stephenson,

you like him?

Neal Stephenson is a god.

Yeah, he's pretty good.

Right now

the nights are ours.

But what happens

if they decide that they

need less sleep?

What happens if they decide

to grow against their

digital lullabies?

What happens

when they're not

afraid of the dark?

What are you suggesting?

I think what's

happening now is more

than temporary anarchy.

I think it's the start

of a war.

It's going to be a short

but extremely nasty one.

But what does one

do in a war?

One kills one's enemies.

Well, even with

the guns we have,

it'll be slow work.

We have a gasoline pump

in our little motor pool.

Gasoline may serve

to end their lives.

Hold up.

You want to napalm them?

We have a sprayer truck

that we use

to keep our playing

fields very green.

I want to wipe them out.

I agree with him.

I think we should

wipe them out.

The ones

on the soccer field.

And I don't want to do it

for the human race.

I want to do it

for my mom.

As many as we can,

as fast as we can.

Before it's too late.

( music playing )

We sure we want

to do this?

Oh, yeah, for sure.

Let's go.

( engine starts )

I'm sure.

( music continues )

( squishing )

Whoa.

Holy cow.

( groans )

All right.

( exhales )

Do you like first-person

shooter games?

Yeah.

Pretty freaked out,

huh?

I'm fine.

How about you?

Freak city.

( truck engine revving )

- Oh.

- ( squishing )

Tom:

We have a problem?

No, no, no.

It's great.

Put it in a lower gear.

Yeah, it's not like

I've done this before,

all right?

Just put it

in a lower gear.

Yeah, we were just

on somebody's head

or something.

All right.

They're coming back.

( brakes squeal )

No, you've had

enough of that to be DUI.

You know that, right?

Yeah.

But it won't

really count

after the mass

murder, you know?

No one knows

better than me that

you can't stop progress.

But still, you're never

too old to fight it.

( howling )

- ( music stops )

- Uh-oh.

Holy sh*t.

Alice:

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

( gunshots )

Sh*t, the truck.

Get down!

( grunts )

Alice, you all right?

Yeah, yeah,

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

Sh*t.

Ardai!

Ardai!

( crying )

No!

Help.

Help him.

Somebody help him.

Tom. Clay.

Help him.

- ( sobbing )

- Okay.

No.

Come on, buddy.

Come on. It's okay.

All right.

( howling )

- Tom:
What is that?

- Yeah, I feel it, too.

It feels like rage.

We got to go right now.

Tom:

Do not withhold your mercy

from us, O Lord.

May your love and your truth

always protect us.

For troubles without number

surround us.

Our sins have overrun us

and we cannot see.

Our sins are more than

the hairs of our head

and our hearts

fail within us.

Be pleased to save us,

O Lord.

O Lord, come quickly

to help us.

May those who seek

to take our lives

as this life was taken

be put to shame

and confusion.

May those

who desire ruin

be turned back

in disgrace.

May all those

who say to us,

"Aha.

Aha..."

be appalled

by their own shame.

For here lies the dead.

The dust of the Earth.

( exhales )

( gasps )

( water dripping )

( man moaning )

( chuckles )

( gasps )

( breathing heavily )

Jordan:

Nightmare?

Clay:

Yeah.

- You, too?

- Yeah.

I thought when you get older,

the nightmares go away.

No, they still happen.

They just grow up, too.

There was this

really creepy,

disgusting guy

in my dream.

He was dirty. Yellow teeth.

He had on a red hoodie.

- What?

- Long hair.

Does he have

a tear on his cheek?

Alice:
In my dream,

he was poking my neck

with a knitting needle

and calling me insane.

In a red hoodie?

Pushed me in front

of a speeding train.

The guy in my dream,

that's the character

from my graphic novel.

You know, my comic book,

"The Night Traveler."

He's the guy

in the drawings on your

wall of your apartment?

Yes. He's a, you know,

prophet of the apocalypse.

So you saw

all this sh*t coming?

Hey, it was just

a comic book, man.

Unless this is just all

my goddamn dream.

You may have had it first,

but you're definitely

not the only one.

It's getting dark.

Let's get out of here.

- Alice:
Yeah.

- Yeah, I don't want

to sleep no more.

( phone ringing )

( phone ringing )

( ringing continues )

( ringing )

( crows cawing )

Clay:

"Kashwak equals No-Fo."

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes