Outlander Page #7

Season #1 Episode #1 - 'Sassenach'

---

FRANK:

What are you doing?

CLAIRE:

Looking for that plant. The one I

saw in the stone circle. It could

be in the Campanulaceae family, or

the Gentianaceae, the

Polemoniaceae, the Boraginaceae --

you know, Forget-me-nots. That’s

most likely. I don’t think it was

a gentian of any kind; the petals

weren’t really rounded...

FRANK:

Why not go back and get it? The

ritual’s complete, I doubt any of

the celebrants will be returning.

And if they did, there’s nothing

wrong with a visitor coming to

examine the site or gather the

local flora.

CLAIRE:

Care to go with me?

(CONTINUED)

31.

CONTINUED:

FRANK:

I have an appointment with the

Vicar.

(with relish)

Going through an entire box of

materials we found last night.

Bills of sale from Captain

Randall’s own quartermaster!

CLAIRE:

Much more exciting, I’m sure. Have

fun. Love you.

FRANK:

Love you.

They exchange quick kisses.

EXT. CRAIGH NA DUN - DAY

THE BLUE-FLOWERED PLANT is tucked next to the base of a huge

standing stone. Claire’s hand reaches down to examine it.

In the full light of day, the standing stones are far less

menacing and she’s relaxed as she takes some clippings from

the vine and folds them carefully in a handkerchief.

Gradually, she becomes aware of that SAME HUMMING, like what

a beehive might produce. Claire looks around, curiously.

After a few seconds, she zeroes in on the source, which is

not a hive, but actually the largest of the stones, the one

with a huge SPLIT running down the middle. Standing right

next to the stone, the humming is loud and Claire puts a hand

out to touch the smooth surface -

-- the stone SCREAMS. Claire backpedals, falls down. The

scream was unnatural, otherworldly. The world begins to

vibrate in Claire’s perception, as her senses are suddenly

aware of sound and movement not normally perceived in the

natural world. All around her, SOUNDS of BATTLE emanate from

the other stones on the hilltop: screaming men, musketry,

terrified horses, the clang of metal weapons.

Claire staggers to her feet, shaking her head in a vain

attempt to clear it, as the world starts to spin and tilt in

her mind. The cacophony grows more intense and her vision

blurs as Claire stumbles forward, trying to find escape in

any direction. Her uncertain footsteps take her to the cleft

stone and she reaches out with a hand once more -

(CONTINUED)

32.

CONTINUED:

DARKNESS SHOT THROUGH WITH BOLTS OF LIGHT

CLAIRE (V.O.)

Once, traveling at night, I fell

asleep in the passenger seat of a

moving car, lulled by the noise and

motion into an illusion of serene

weightlessness. Then the driver

took a bridge too fast and lost

control, and I woke from my

floating dream looking into the

glare of oncoming headlights and

the sickening sensation of falling

at high speed. That is as close as

I can come to describing what I

experienced... but it falls

woefully short.

The world is bursting with white noise and dark light, then -

Quiet.

EXT. CRAIGH NA DUN - DAY

Claire opens her eyes. She’s still lying at the foot of the

cleft stone. The sun still in the sky. She sits up and

immediately notices that the stones have ceased screaming.

But the noise of battle still travels through the air as

Claire gets to her feet, in a daze. Not sure what’s going

on, but sure that she wants to get away from these stones,

Claire scrambles away -

-- SLIPS and falls, ends up sliding and scrambling down the

hill.

EXT. WOODS/CLEARING - DAY

Claire finally comes to a stop in a small GROVE of TREES.

She sits there for a moment at the base of a tree, trying to

gather her wits. A commotion from o.c. causes her to look up

and see THREE MEN wearing kilts, running across a clearing in

the distance. The POP-POP-POP of gunshots echo across the

field just before SIX REDCOAT SOLDIERS, armed with MUSKETS,

come running in hot pursuit of the Scots.

Claire gets a little blearily to her feet. Rubs her head and

neck, checking for some kind of injury.

CLAIRE (V.O.)

When suddenly confronted with the

impossible, the rational mind will

grope in all directions, searching

for logical explanations.

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

33.

CONTINUED:

CLAIRE (V.O.) (cont'd)

I, myself, came to the quite

reasonable conclusion that I had

stumbled onto the set of a cinema

company filming a costume drama of

some sort -- one of those Bonnie

Prince in the heather things that

seemed to play in every theater in

London.

Just then, YELLING and SHOUTING from somewhere brings her

attention back to the clearing just as FIVE SCOTS on HORSES

come thundering from the opposite direction, yelling in

Gaelic and heading right toward her. Claire has the presence

of mind to step quickly and nimbly out of their way as they

charge into the clearing.

Suddenly there’s the sound of a couple of MUSKETS FIRING and

a split second later a random ball SMACKS the tree trunk

right next to her. She gapes at the tree for a second.

CLAIRE (V.O.)

But my mind could find no logical

explanation for actors to fire live

ammunition.

She turns and plunges into the woods.

ON CLAIRE’S LEGS

As she runs through the woods, the branches and underbrush

lashing at her, we suddenly realize that Claire was the woman

running through the woods at the top of the show.

She nearly falls, steadies herself against a tree and then is

GRABBED FROM BEHIND.

Taken unaware, she’s helpless for a moment, but when her eyes

focus on her abductor’s face, her expression turns to

outrage.

CLAIRE:

Frank! What the devil are you

about? You almost gave me...

But her voice trails off as she realizes that the man

standing before her is not, in fact, her husband although the

resemblance to Frank is uncanny [and is played by the same

actor].

CLAIRE (cont’d)

You’re not Frank.

(CONTINUED)

34.

CONTINUED:
(2)

CAPTAIN JACK RANDALL (30’s) wears a white shirt with cuffs,

his long hair tied back with a leather thong, his skin deeply

tanned, and a roughness about his features. He looks at her

with a searching, piercing gaze. There’s something innately

dangerous about an encounter with Jack Randall, like

stumbling onto a big cat alone in the woods.

JACK RANDALL:

No. I am not.

Claire backs up a couple of steps as Jack Randall eyes her

with interest, his gaze unabashedly taking in the clear

outlines of her body beneath the sheer summer dress and

lingering on her exposed legs. Claire bumps into a tree and

stops just as Randall turns away and picks up a coat -- a

REDCOAT. An 18th century British Army officer’s coat.

Ignoring her for the moment, he dresses and buckles on his

sword belt.

CLAIRE:

Who the bloody hell are you...?

JACK RANDALL:

I am, madam, Jonathan Randall,

Esquire, Captain of His Majesty’s

Eighth Dragoons. At your service.

Claire turns and RUNS headlong through the woods. She’s

slashed and whipped by branches and leaves, but pays them no

mind in her sudden, panicked reaction. But she doesn’t get

very far before she’s KNOCKED DOWN from behind by Randall,

who pursued her and now PINS her to the ground. She

struggles, but he’s much stronger and forces her back down.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes