Jennifer 8 Page #42

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The Camera climbs higher revealing somber mountains. Plus mile

upon mile of road he has yet to travel. Still it ascends until

the Chevrolet is reduced to an insignificance by the landscape.

180:
EXT. SHASTA-TRINITY INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

A panoramic over the institute wide enough to include surround-

ing forest. Headlights approach down a wooded track and go out.

Just possible to see a tiny Figure moving towards the building.

181:
EXT. FIRE ESCAPE. INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

High on the fire escape looking down. A flashlight arrives bel-

ow. Eerie fragmentation of light as the Figure begins to climb.

182:
EXT. CHEVY SEDAN/ROAD. SHASTA VALLEY. NIGHT.

The highway is winding and narrowed with snow. Couldn't find a

lousier road on which to overtake. BERLIN is right up behind a

forty ton truck and he's trying to overtake. Hits the horn and

tries again. Halfway past the trailer when a bend suddenly rel-

eases headlights. An angry claxon and he's forced to pull back.

183:
INT. BEDROOM. APARTMENT. INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

Although curtains are open the room is in darkness. Someone on

the fire escape looking in. A flashlight snaps on and a circle

of light explores the room. Creeps across the floor and pauses

at the bed. Climbs slowly to illuminate HELENA's sleeping face.

144:
EXT. FIRE ESCAPE. INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

Close-up sound and close-up picture. A glass-cutter scores the

window. A nasty noise but you'd have to be wide awake and list-

ening to hear it. A gloved fist punches the section out. Falls

to the floor and shatters. And a hand reaches in for the catch.

145:
INT. BEDROOM/LIVING ROOM. APARTMENT. NIGHT.

HELENA is wide awake and listening. Hurrying into her dressing

gown with a similar urgency to get out. She arrives in the liv-

ing room as the FIGURE is clambering through the window. Panic

as she blunders for the front door. Tears it open and vanishes

into the corridor. He crosses the room and follows her outside.

186:
INT. CORRIDOR/STAIRS. INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

HELENA knows the building and moves faster than he may have ex-

pected. Green dressing gown and bare feet. White nightgown and

blonde hair. The man in black hurries after her. She's already

at the swing doors and he's virtually running to stay with her.

She bursts through the doors and rushes downstairs. He follows

only seconds behind. The wind groans down as they descend. HEL-

ENA turns a corner of the stairwell and momentarily disappears.

For a moment he loses her! Which way did she go? Downstairs or

along the corridor? His anxiety is immediately assuaged. Spots

what already looks like a ghost fleeing into shadows. He takes

off along the corridor. Getting breathless. But getting closer.

Near enough now to sense her fear. Near enough now to grab her.

TAYLOR:

Say night, night, dead girl.

As he reaches for her she turns. MARGIE wears a green dressing

gown and a blonde wig and has a very big f***ing pistol in her

hand. TAYLOR can't believe what he's looking at. And for an in-

stant neither does MARGIE. Their surprise is mutually stunning.

How can it be him? How can it be her? TAYLOR's still trying to

work out how they made the switch when the first bullet smacks

into his chest. Gets another as he goes down. He crumples in a

deadly heap and revenge is completed with two more in the back.

187:
INT. LANDING/STAIRS. INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

MARGIE barges through the doors. The MYOPIC Janitor is halfway

up adjacent stairs peering down. No time for introductions and

no time for explanations. "Call the Police. Do it. Now." Shout-

ing up at him she's already descending. "Tell em the gymnasium."

188:
INT. GYMNASIUM. INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

MARGIE patrols plate glass windows. Where are the f***ing cops?

She's shocked and looks strange indeed. Wig off but hair grips

all over her head. An overcoat and shoes but still wearing the

nightgown underneath. A couple of dreary lights in the ceiling.

HELENA sits numb under one of them all but hidden in a blanket.

MARGIE can't stand waiting any longer. "I'm gonna call them my-

self." HELENA nods and sure she's O.K. to stay here. The doors

settle and she is alone. Headlights cross the windows shifting

the shadows of everything. Swooping the walls they move attent-

ion back to the door. TAYLOR stares in and then pushes through.

Worse for wear but very much alive. Discarded his leather jack-

et revealing the bullet proof vest. Blood all over his T-shirt.

Looks like he caught one in the shoulder. A bad burn and blood

runs from his left hand. In his right hand he clasps the knife.

He cracks it open like a whip. HELENA hears it and stands. Ter-

ror as the footsteps approach. "Margie. Margie." But Margie is-

n't around. He's less than 30 feet away. She tries to back off

but is hindered by the blanket. Tries to scream but is stifled

with fear. Maybe six seconds to live but this refers to Taylor.

"Taylor" He swings around but this time he doesn't get time to

look surprised. BERLIN blows the f***er across the room. Solid

load slugs weighing an ounce each crash into him. BERLIN keeps

pumping the Remington and doesn't stop firing until the magaz-

ine is over. No conjecture now. This bastard is very much dead.

BERLIN throws the 12 gauge aside. And maybe it means something.

Maybe at last he accepts he's stopped living in that world and

ready to give himself a chance in this. HELENA in his arms and

this is his new world. Flashing lights and headlights flood in-

to the darkness. Their embrace goes on. And this story is told.

THE END:

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