Dark City Page #6

The Chinese woman's VOICE crackles over the speaker:

WOMAN O.S.

Fifty-six... Fifty six...

WIDEN ANGLE - The place is still empty.

Walker glances to the serving window. A DISH waits for him. He

gets up and retrieves it.

TIGHT ON - a bowl of soupy liquid with noodles sitting before

Walker.

WIDER - He eats ravenously, dispenses with the spoon, and gulps

straight from the bowl.

INT. BATH-HOUSE - NIGHT

Doctor Schreber paddles INTO FRAME and rests against the side of the

pool.

A P.A. VOICE CRACKLES - echoing through the bath-house which now

seems devoid of life apart from the doctor.

VOICE:

Closing time in five minutes...

WE NOW SEE, behind Schreber, the LARGE SHADOW of a man, cast

against a tiled wall.

SCHREBER:

It's not as if it's the first time

this has happened. There's always

a... stray or two. You've dealt

with this kind of thing before.

CAMERA PANS from the shadow TO REVEAL MISTER HAND.

MISTER HAND:

But this situation seems to be quite

uncommon, yes?

SCHREBER:

What makes you say that?

MISTER HAND:

There are strays. But we always

find them, wandering like lost

children. This one has evaded us.

SCHREBER:

I still don't understand what you

want from me?

Mister Hand does not answer. Two other strangers MOVE INTO THE B.G.

MISTER HAND:

He is your patient - he will comes

to you, yes.

SCHREBER:

Perhaps. Under the circumstances,

he might do anything...

MISTER HAND:

(cuts in)

He will come to you. It is a matter

of time. You will contain him and

notify us. This is of great concern

to us, Doctor. Mister Black will

be asking questions, yes.

Mister Hand goes to leave then turns back.

MISTER HAND:

(Cont.)

Next time we meet, we would prefer

it was elsewhere, you know how

uncomfortable all this moisture is

for us...

THE THREE STRANGERS STEP FROM FRAME - after a beat we hear a door

shut OFF CAMERA.

PUSH IN on Schreber - as the ANGLE TIGHTENS we see the fear in his

eyes.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Walker crosses the street.

HIS P.O.V. - Across an empty plaza is store. A sign above the

door:
DRUGS OPEN 24 HOURS and in smaller print, recently added

beneath:
SPECIAL: SHAVE & HAIRCUT $2.00.

INT. DRUG STORE - NIGHT

Walker paces between bare, dusty shelves. Only one shelf carries

products - BOX AFTER BOX OF "LUMP-O". He moves up to a small

counter. A BARBER, is seated there.

WALKER:

I need something for a head-ache.

BARBER:

Looks like you need a haircut to me.

WALKER:

Thanks anyway, but...

BARBER:

Only two bucks. Shave as well.

WALKER:

(annoyed)

Your sign says you sell drugs...

BARBER:

Sure! Relax.

He waves at a shelf above his head, crammed with bottles of all

sorts of different coloured capsules.

BARBER:

(Cont.)

Tell you what - let me cut yer

hair, give ya whatcha need half

price. Canít argue at that!

WALKER:

I donít want a haircut.

LATER:

CAMERA TRACKS OFF a clock on a wall - REVEALS WALKER in a barber

chair. The BARBER gleefully works on WALKERís hair.

A thin OLD GUY in a moth-eaten suit steps from behind a curtain,

playing a violin passionately but badly.

BARBER:

(talks fast)

Cut hair when I was in the navy,

yíknow - havenít lost the touch.

Betcha happy ëbout that, huh!

WALKER:

Know how I can get to the ocean from

here?

BARBER:

Ocean, huh? Vacation?

The old guy with the violin moves back and forth behind Walker,

smiling as he plays.

WALKER:

Something like that.

BARBER:

Nope. Never been there.

WALKER:

But you just said...

BARBER:

(cuts in)

Grandpa thought customers might like

some mood music.

He looks out the window as his hands busily trim hair.

BARBER:

(Cont.)

Cold lately.

(lathers Walkerís face)

That night, couple weeks ago. That

was real cold. Remember that?

WALKER:

No...

BARBER:

Yeah, Iím the same. Wife thinks I'm

going senile. But she canít

complain. Heh! The erector set

still works good.

(points to head)

And this ainít no rug! G'head!

Feel it! All mine!

Grandpa laughs and plays louder.

GRANDPA:

Yes. Feeeeel it!

PUSH IN ON WALKER - he smiles weakly.

EXT. DRUGSTORE - LATER

Walker steps out, sporting a hair-cut. He takes the cap off a small

bottle of pills in his hand and takes a couple.

He sees a phone-booth across the street, walks over and steps...

INSIDE - Walker dials the OPERATOR. A muffled voice over the

line.

WALKER:

Have a John Walker listed?...

Walker... How many?...

He's sweating. He wipes his brow with a trembling hand.

WALKER:

(under his breath)

Sh*t.

(under his breath)

Are the numbers listed by area?...

I don't know which area... Any of

them near the ocean?... The

ocean... Never mind... No. Forget

it.

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