Highlander III: The Sorcerer Page #3

PUNK:

Hey -- you hear me?

CONNER MACLEOD slowly turns around. He is mid thirties,

handsome, his chin dotted with the stubble of a beard. He is

calm, detached -- yet under the surface there is a great

sadness from a lifetime of pain and loneliness. He stares at

the Punk wearily -- knowing both what is going to happen and

what the outcome will be.

MACLEOD:

(softly)

Yes -- I hear you.

PUNK:

Good. Now, give it up.

9

Macleod studies the Punk for a moment.

MACLEOD:

Go home -- while you still can.

Macleod turns his back to him and starts to walk away. The

Punk moves after him quickly. Macleod reaches into a trash can

and pulls out a piece of PIPE. The Punk stops and stares at

Macleod.

PUNK:

(amused)

What do you think you're gonna to do

with that?

Macleod raises the pipe, twirling it around expertly in his

hand.

MACLEOD:

(deadly calm)

Let's find out.

A beat. The Punk is losing confidence. He looks at Macleod.

CLOSE ON MACLEOD'S EYES

Deep. Confidant. They radiate an intensity that seems to burn

into the Punk.

The Punk is unnerved by Macleod's calm. Macleod waits, letting

him make the next move. A beat. The Punk backs away and

disappears into the darkness. Macleod stares him for a moment,

then drops the pipe to the ground and walks off in the other

direction.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Macleod stops at the mouth of the alley where it intersects

with the street. He stares across the street.

MACLEOD'S POV

An old building. A sign reads: RUSSELL NASH, ANTIQUES.

A sadness falls across his face -- his mind floods with

memories as he looks at the building.

Across the street the door of the antique store opens. RACHEL,

an attractive woman in her fifties exits -- locks the door --

walks down the street.

10

Macleod watches her affectionately -- painfully. As she

crosses the street, he steps back into the shadows of the

alley, hiding in the darkness. Rachel reaches the alley, then

stops -- thinks -- looks back at the Antique Store. She is

only a few feet away from Macleod.

CLOSE ON MACLEOD

Macleod struggles to make a decision. Slowly he raises his

hand -- reaches out -- but cannot bring himself to touch her.

Rachel starts to walk away.

MACLEOD (OS)

Rachel.

No more needs to be said. She recognizes the voice instantly.

She turns around slowly and looks behind her. In the b.g.

Macleod steps out of the darkness. He smiles at her weakly.

Confusion fills her face, but is quickly replaced by a wave of

emotion. She moves towards Macleod slowly, as if trying to

determine if he is really there. She cups her hands to his

face and stares deeply into his eyes. No words are spoken --

none need to be. The power of their feelings are shown in

their eyes.

CUT TO:

INT. ANTIQUE STORE - NIGHT

Crowded with tables, chairs, cabinets and other rare old

objects of furniture. Macleod is seated at a 17th century

dinning table. Rachel stands in the center of the room.

RACHEL:

You know it's not safe here for you.

MACLEOD:

I know.

RACHEL:

The police still have a lot of

questions for Russell Nash.

MACLEOD:

I can take care of myself.

Rachel's emotion builds.

11

RACHEL:

Why are you here, Conner? After

seven years without a word, why have

you come back? You went off to make

a new life with Brenda and that was

the last I heard--

A sadness falls over Macleod's face.

MACLEOD:

Brenda's dead.

Rachel is stunned.

MACLEOD:

(continuing)

Four years ago. I've nowhere else to

go. You're all I have, Rachel -- and

I'm just so tired of being alone.

His words touch her. She opens a cabinet and pulls out a

bottle of GLENMORGANGIE scotch. Macleod forces a weak smile.

In the light he looks tired. She pours him a drink.

RACHEL:

It isn't over, is it, Conner?

MACLEOD:

(wearily)

No.

RACHEL:

How can that be?

MACLEOD:

I don't know.

Rachel's face fills with compassion. She reaches out and holds

Macleod. He lays his head on her shoulder like a baby.

INT. LIBRARY - NIGHT

Every inch of wall-space is filled with shelves and BOOKS.

Macleod walks along a row studying the titles. A faint grin

falls across his face as he sees a selected works of poetry.

Rachel enters the room with a tea service and places it on the

table.

RACHEL:

Is there anything else you need?

MACLEOD:

No -- I'm fine. Thank you.

12

RACHEL:

I'm glad you've come home, Conner.

MACLEOD:

Me too.

Rachel leaves. Macleod takes a small book off the shelf and

looks through it. Outside a STREAK of LIGHTNING cuts across

the night sky. Macleod looks out the window concerned.

CUT TO:

EXT. FARM - DAY

Seventeenth century Scotland. The CAMERA rise over an old

stone wall. A charming farm house with stone walls and a

thatched roof sits in the distance. Smoke drifts lazily from

the chimney.

+IN THE FIELD

A man toils behind an ox, his arms straining as he guides a

plow through the soft earth. He stops, runs his hand across

his brow, then turns around. It is Macleod. His hair is

longer, but he looks exactly the same.

The FARMER and owner of the land, a kindly-looking man in his

fifties walks over to him. He picks up and handful of soil and

tastes it.

FARMER:

It will be a good harvest this year.

MCCLEOD:

Can you really tell from doing that?

FARMER:

What do you think?

MCCLEOD:

I think you just like to eat dirt.

They both LAUGH. SARAH, fifteen years old, with flaxen hair

and bright blue eyes approaches Macleod with a water pale.

SARAH:

(shyly)

Would you care for some water,

Conner?

MCCLEOD:

Aye -- that I would, lass.

13

Conner takes the ladle and pours it over his head. He scoops

out some more water and drinks, then WINKS at Sarah. She

blushes and runs off.

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