Pitch Black Page #12

He makes a move for her. Riddick blocks. Johns' shotgun bumps

the underside of Riddick's chin.

RIDDICK:

Think about that reward, Johns.

JOHNS:

I'm willing to take a cut in pay.

RIDDICK:

How 'bout a cut in your gut?

Johns looks down. CAMERA DROPS to reveal the shiv Riddick holds,

poised for evisceration.

JOHNS:

Oh, Trash Baby, you're gonna regret this.

IMAM:

Please...this solves nothing...please....

Johns backs off first. The light grows dimmer.

FRY:

(to Audrey)

They're afraid of our light. That means

we don't have to be so afraid of them.

IMAM:

And you're certain you can find the way

back? Even in the dark?

FRY:

No, I'm not. But he can.

She's pointing, of course, to Riddick.

EXT. PLANET - NIGHT

The eclipsing planet dominates half the sky. In whatever coronal

light remains, we see clouds forming.

EXT. CRASH SHIP - NIGHT

Cargo doors crack open. Mixed for maximum flame, the cutter is

pushed outside and swept around. Fry appears behind it.

Moving like hostages, the survivors cross open ground, trying not

to heed the PRIMAL SOUNDS beyond their light. Soon they reach...

The main cabin. Blackness inside.

FRY:

Riddick.

He lifts his goggles.

RIDDICK'S POV:
Checking the cabin. Finding a lot of wreckage

but no life.

RIDDICK:

Looks clear.

Johns shoulders ahead and crawls in first. Just as he stands up

inside...

A PREDATOR BUZZSAWS over his head, fleeing the cabin, taking off

into the night.

JOHNS:

F*** me. You said "clear."

RIDDICK:

Said "looks clear."

JOHNS:

Well, what's it look like now?

RIDDICK:

(rechecking)

Looks clear.

FRY:

Just get the goddamn lights on....

They scramble aboard. Riddick TONGUE-CLICKS behind Johns.

He isn't amused.

INT. MAIN CABIN - CRASH SHIP - NIGHT

PREP MONTAGE:
We see the survivors powering up cabin lights...

yanking three more cells from the battery bay...threading nylon

cord through Paris' misting umbrellas, filling the reservoirs

with high-octane liquor...swapping out O2 canisters.

INT. MAIN CABIN - CRASH SHIP - NIGHT

Reloading his shotgun, Johns finds himself shaking again. He

unpockets a shell -- a red morphine shell -- and gives it a

lover's look. Behind him...

FRY:

Ready, Johns.

He palms the shell.

JOHNS:

He'll lead you over the first cliff.

You know that, don't you?

FRY:

We're just burnin' light here.

JOHNS:

You give him the cells and the ship --

and he will leave you. He will leave you

all out there to die.

FRY:

I don't get it, Johns. What is so goddamn

valuable in your life that you're worried

about losing? Huh? Is there anything at

all? Besides your next hype?

(no response)

Got no right to be so scared. Neither one

of us.

INT. BATTERY BAY - CRASH SHIP - NIGHT

As hands yank the last power cell.

INT. MAIN CABIN - CRASH SHIP - NIGHT

Cabin lights die. Still brooding, Johns finishes loading his

shotgun in the dark.

EXT. CRASH SHIP - NIGHT

CLOSE on a burning wick. Alcohol mist shoots across the flame to

create...

A FIREBALL. Two umbrella torches, fabric already burned away,

BELCH FIREBALLS into the night. By this light and more, we see...

Imam chained into the first harness of the drag-sled. Beside

him, Johns fumbles with a second harness. Hands help him into

the chains. The hands belong to...

Riddick. Both men recognize the irony of the prisoner helping

his captor into chains.

FRY:

(to all)

Keep the light going. That's all we have

to do to live through this. Just keep

your light burning.

Riddick loops a handlight over his neck, places it to shine light

down his back. A beacon.

RIDDICK:

(to Fry)

Be runnin' about 10 paces ahead. I want

light on my back -- but not in my eyes.

And check your cuts. These things know

our blood now.

CLOSE on Audrey. Overhearing, she goes stone-faced.

FRY:

Riddick...was thinkin' we should make some

kind of deal. Just in case, you know,

this actually --

RIDDICK:

(shaking head)

Had it with deals.

FRY:

But I just wanted to say --

RIDDICK:

Nobody's gonna turn a murderer loose.

I f***in' knew better.

It worries Fry. "If he doesn't expect to go free...."

RIDDICK (CONT'D)

Been a long time since anyone's trusted

me. That's somethin' right there.

FRY:

We can, can't we? Trust you?

RIDDICK:

Actually...

(completely genuine)

That's what I been askin' myself.

He walks away. HOLD on Fry -- wondering if she hasn't made a

terrible, terrible mistake.

EXT. NIGHT

The drag-sled begins moving.

SERIES OF TRACKING SHOTS: Riddick running point, goggles off,

eyes flashing. Johns and Imam pulling the drag-sled like

malamutes, handlights sweeping. Pilgrims #1 at the first side-

guard position, Fry and Audrey at the second, each position

carrying an umbrella torch, FIREBALLS BLAZING. Paris stumbling

along at rear-point, sweeping the cutter back and forth, every

shadow a threat. They are a train of light.

CLOSE on the sled. Holding four power cells and eight bottles

of booze.

CLOSE on Fry. Looking down. Noting sand-cat tracks underfoot.

EXT. NIGHT

Below us run the survivors. CRANE UP AND AWAY so that their

lights become insignificant...so that we include, in FOREGROUND,

the silhouettes of gliding predators. They're following from

above, awaiting their chance.

EXT. NIGHT

FRY'S POV:
Of the ground. The sand-cat tracks have vanished.

JOHNS:

So you noticed too?

FRY:

Riddick. Riddick.

The procession grinds to a halt. Everyone sucks hard on

breathers as they muster inside the light.

FRY:

Where are the sand-cat tracks? Why aren't

we still following them?

RIDDICK:

Saw something I didn't like.

JOHNS:

Such as.

RIDDICK:

Hard to tell, sometimes...even for me...

but looked like a bunch of those big boys

chewin' each other's gonads off. Thought

we'd swing wide. Okay by you?

Paris looks over his shoulder. "We went around what?" Nearby

CLICKING breaks up the confrontation.

FRY:

Let's move.

(to Audrey)

Just a detour. He'll get us there.

PARIS:

Can we switch?

FRY:

What, switch what?

PARIS:

I think I twisted my ankle running

backwards like that. And I'm not sure I

can....

(off their stares)

Okay, that's a lie. I just don't want to

be alone back there anymore. If you could

just give me a few minutes up front here --

JOHNS:

She's the pilot, she should stay close to

the cells.

PARIS:

Oh, so I'm disposable?

FRY:

I'll switch, I'll switch! Christ, just

get this train moving!

EXT. NIGHT

They trundle on, Fry the new tail-gunner.

At side guard, Paris relaxes a bit -- even though the CLICKING

never seems far from earshot. A weak FIREBALL SPEWS from his

torch. He checks the reservoir. Almost empty.

PARIS:

Light, please, need light here....

Still moving, Johns and Imam train lights on Paris while he

refuels. For a brief moment, Audrey strays from the light.

PREDATOR'S POV:
Dive-bombing the girl.

A HIGH-VELOCITY CLICKING: It's like an incoming missile. Imam

lunges at the last nanosecond...

And flattens Audrey to the ground. Scythe blades swing...

CHINKING the harness-chains on Imam's back.

Johns whirls, BLASTS. Light-beams leap around. But the predator

is long gone.

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