Final Destination Page #18

Alex considers, mind racing... then realizes

ALEX:

After Billy... it's me. And then you.

Clear grabs Clear and touches her face.

ALEX (CONT'D)

(to Clear)

Hey, I won't let it happen, okay.

Carter turns to them; it's as far as he will go to admit he believes... or

will help...

CARTER:

Then, get out of here.

As she moves to Alex, Clear nods her acknowledgement and appreciation to

Carter. She takes Alex by the hand and the pair begin running away, off into

the woods.

In the DISTANCE, a TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS, eerie, as if Death was punctuating

the moment.

CUT TO:

EXT. CABIN - NIGHT

The windows are boarded. The front steps are worn and dilapidated. In the

early evening moonlight, the dwelling appears eerie and ghostly. CAMERA

CREEPS TOWARD the hose, a pre-storm breeze swaying branches and blowing

leaves. In the distance... LIGHTNING...

INT. CABIN - DAY - A SMALL TABLE

A final piece of duct tape is applied to the corner of the tabel, dulling

any sharp edges. Even thought it is sunny outside, all the shades are

pulled. The room sits in dark shadows broken by occastional bright shafts of

light.

CAMERA FOLLOWS a hand as it carefully picks up a Coleman lantern and sets it

atop an empty can placed in the center and above the water line of a large

metal tub; a fire protection moat.

ALEX:

finds his way to a chair in the center of the room, away from everything

except a nearby table holding a fire extinguisher and a first aid kit both

at less an arms reach.

Unshaven, a week and a half's growth, and unkept, Alex looks horrible. And

anxious zombie, especially in the dim glow of the lantern. Dark circles,

from lack of sleep. Thin, from lack of food. Pale, from lack of sunlight.

He places workman's gloves on his hands before picking up a can of Underwood

chicken spread. With some degree of difficulty, he works the gloves beneath

the tab and pulls. Careful not to cut himslef, he reaches out and drops the

lid into a small trash can.

Alex removes the gloves and, with a plastic spoon, begins to eat. CAMERA

PUSHES IN as he begins to chew methodically, chewing and chewing and chewing

with concentration until... after steadying himself... prepares to

swallow... then, carefully does.

Pause... he's alright. He takes the spoon. Scoops some more. And the process

begins again.

CUT TO:

INT. BATHROOM - CLEAR RIVER'S HOUSE - DAY

A pink circle fills THE ENTIRE FRAME

EXTREMELY CLOSE - CLEAR'S EYES

look downward, anxious and full of thought.

A HOME PREGNANCY TEST

the results are positive, two pink dots, confirming.

WIDER:

Clear sighs, frightened as she tosses the test upon a half dozen other

discarded tests. You can never be too sure. Outside, WIND of an approaching

storm blows. CMAERA tensely INCHES IN ON Clear...

CUT TO:

INT. CABIN - NIGHT - CRACK BENEATH DOOR

The resulting THUNDER RUMBLES. A breeze blows beneath the door, carrying

some autumn leaves. CAMERA FLLOWS the breeze across the floor to Alex's pant

legs which slightly flutter.

CAMERA RISES TO ALEX, sitting in his safe chair. Paranoid and obsessively

cautious, his eyes move towards the door, anticipating the consequential

events. Following the path of the breeze, Alex turns around...

ALEX'S POV - TRASH BAG

the brown shopping bag tips over. Amongst the trash spread on the floor, a

can rolls out and across the floor.

ALEX:

tenses. He doesn't look to where the can has been, but where it is going.

ALEX'S POV - CAN

rols across the floor and gently hits the end of a fishing pole, propped in

the corner. The pole teeters and falls over.

FISHING HOOK:

falls, hooking a closet door. The door begins to swing open.

ALEX:

is quickly out of his safe chair, hustling towards...

THE DOOR:

Alex slams the door shut before it can open. Behind the door, a CRASH as

something falls. Alex cracks a wicked half smile, cocky he has caught Death

before this attempt has brought to fruition.

Alex removes the hook from the door and places the pole on the floor. He

cautiously opens the door, REVEALING an old fish scaling knife embedded on

the back side of the door, unaware. Removing the knife and securing it, his

eyes turn towards the floor.

CLOSET FLOOR:

a tackle box has spilled thinck, rusted old treble and aberden fishing hooks

upon the floor. Alex bends down and examines them.

ALEX:

(as if to Death)

Rusted. Tetanus. Nice touch.

(defiant)

I overlooked it. You tried to

capitalize. But I caught you,

you f***. I can beat you. Not

forever, but I got this cabin

rigged to beat you NOW!

O.S., a sound. Like a THUMP near the cabin steps. He freezes, like an animal

sensing danger. THUNDER RUMBLES. The light around him begins to flicker and

sway.

COLEMAN LANTERN:

a draft creeps beneath the glass enclosure. The flame, dancing.

CUT TO:

INT. BEDROOM - CLEAR RIVER'S HOUSE - DAY

ENTERING FRAME, Clear peeks out the window, carefull not to be seen.

EXT. CLEAR RIVER'S STREET - DAY - CLEAR'S POV

The unmarked F.B.I. sedan maintains surveillance. Schreck and Weine sit

inside.

INT. BEDROOM - CLEAR RIVER'S HOUSE - DAY

Distant... APPROACHING THUNDER RUMBLES as she steps away. The weight of the

world on her shoulders, Clear paces, considering her options. She looks to a

bookshelf...

CLOSE - AN OLD PHOTOGRAPH

A man, early thirties, hold a six year old girl in his arms, waving at the

camera. Both appear happy and alive. They are standing before the cabin

surrounded by the thick woods.

The photograph is turned over. On the back is marked in a young girls

handwriting, "me and dad at the cabin. 1986."

CLEAR:

As CAMERA PUSHES INTO HER... considering life. Then, now and what is to

come.

CUT TO:

INT. UNMARKED CAR - NIGHT

Weine sits in the passenger seat looking through the pair of binoculars.

Schreck is behind the wheel.

WEINE:

She was up there a minute ago...

A figure steps into the drivers side window, from the rear. The two agents

are startled as Clear River's leans into FRAME. She pauses, gauging their

trustmorthiness, then...

CLEAR:

I'm not turning him in. There's

another life that needs him, now.

The two agents remain respectful...

CLEAR:

I go with you.

WEINE:

You can't.

She considers... and understands.

CLEAR:

Don't hurt him.

WEINE:

Tell us where he is. Wait at home, and

I promise... we'll bring him back safe,

in protective custody.

As she senses the agents' sincerity...

INT. CABIN - NIGHT

Distant THUNDER ECHOES. Alex kindles a fire in the fireplace, balling up old

newspapers. He begins to crumble the local news... then pauses.

A headline catches his attention. CAMERA INCHES IN ON HIM, tense, while

THUNDER RUMBLES. As he unrolls the paper, his expression is rocked...

anxious... he c*cks his head to consider... recalling... as CAMERA PUSHES

ALL THE WAY INTO...

HEADLINE - CRUMPLED NEWSPAPER

"PARENTS TO ESTABLISH MEMORIAL SCHOLARSHIPS." Besides the headline are two

yearbook photos; Christa Marsh and Blake Dreyer.

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