Suspect Zero Page #14

Tall wheat, whipped by wind and rain. A muzzle-flash. The

sound of a body slumping hard to the ground.

...and Mackelway, looking over us. Then:

80 EXT. BAPTIST CHURCH - RESUMING 80

We're back with O'Ryan. He leans against the door, his

torment constant.

He walks away from the church, into that heavy rain.

81 INT. FBI OFFICE - "FAX ROOM" - RESUMING 81

The fax tray has overflown onto the floor - 200 more photos,

200 more HAVE YOU SEEN ME's. Forgotten victims. We hear a last

rumble from that 18-WHEELER. END INTERCUT...

CUT TO:

82 INT. FBI OFFICE - "O'RYAN ROOM" - LATE NIGHT 82

Now there are 800 YELLOW PINS stuck in this map - one for

every single FAX or LETTER that's been received in the past

weeks.

800 faces. 800 HAVE YOU SEEN ME's, represented by 800 pins in

800 cities. It's like a national plague.

Mackelway sits, examining it soberly. His chest-wound is

killing him. (We see a thick bandage beneath his shirt.)

In his pocket now is a bottle of PRESCRIPTION PILLS. Percodan.

He slugs one down without water, his eyes never straying from

that map.

Beside it is a COMPOSITE DRAWING from O'Ryan, taken from

Mackelway's description. It's dead-on...

CUT TO:

83 EXT. LONGHORN DINER WICHITA FALLS - NIGHT - ESTABLISHING 83

This is the lone source of light on an otherwise dark stretch

of road. Mackelway's Yukon pulls up.

84 INT. LONGHORN DINER WICHITA FALLS - MOMENTS LATER 84

Hardly a sound in here. Mackelway stands at the register,

paying for his TAKE-OUT. Another night with nothing but his

thoughts for company. Great. Then:

A YOUNG WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)

Agent Mackelway?

It's Katie, the receptionist from his office - sitting by

herself in a nearby booth. Mackelway smiles.

KATIE (CONT'D)

Hi.

CUT TO:

85 INT. KATIE'S APARTMENT - BEDROOM - LATER NIGHT 85

Inexpensive, but furnished with all the touches that

Mackelway's apartment lacks: flea-market stuff, lace, antique

books, photos from other eras. Character.

And candles. Lots of candles. They throw SHADOWS of Mackelway

and Katie all over the walls.

An odd MUSIC fills the room, coming from a BOOM-BOX on the

floor. It's a rhythmic Navajo CHANT, with Native-American

drums providing the pulse.

It's eery, tuneless, but awfully authentic... and it fits the

intensity of the moment: Mackelway and Katie, coupling madly,

their eyes locked. She's breathless.

First time we've seen him shirtless since his injury in that

furnace room. A FAT BANDAGE covers a quarter of his chest.

Dried blood can be seen beneath it.

There's an intensity in his eyes. The chanting, the candles,

Katie's body, his wound... they've conspired to bring an

intensity into his eyes. It's dark, primal.

And he's been expressing it for an hour without relent...

which is why Katie gasps one last gasp, then rolls to the edge

of the bed, exhausted.

She reaches for that boom-box, lowers the volume. The chanting

dies down into silence. She catches her breath.

KATIE:

(softly)

I can't anymore.

Mackelway eyes her, then reaches past her, and turns the

VOLUME on that boom-box back UP. The chanting fills the room

again.

And just like that, he has pulled her back onto him, urgently.

That primal side hasn't been sated yet...

CUT TO:

86 INT. KATIE'S APT. - BATHROOM - LATER NIGHT 86

Mackelway stands at the mirror, changing the dressing on that

wound across his chest. He unwraps the gauze over that fat

bandage soaked through with blood.

He pulls the bandage off, giving us a better look at the deep

gash. Dried blood, torn skin, bruising. Looks like hell. But

Mackelway eyes it calmly.

He slugs down some beer from a nearby bottle, then cleans the

wound with some Hydrogen Peroxide... as Katie appears in the

doorway. She eyes him.

KATIE:

Can't sleep?

He shrugs, turns.

MACKELWAY:

What was that music?

KATIE:

It's Navajo. A song for dead warriors. I

never played it for anybody before.

(a beat)

Just had a feeling you'd like it.

MACKELWAY:

How?

KATIE:

I dunno. The way you stare when you think

nobody's looking.

She shrugs. Silence hovers...

CUT TO:

87 INT. KATIE'S APT. - BEDROOM - PRE-DAWN 87

4:
30 a.m. Rain pounds the window and roof, a real storm out

there. The boom box is still. The candles are down to their

nubs. Katie continues to sleep. Mackelway too.

Then his eyes SNAP OPEN.

Something just hit him, something huge. One of those 4:30-in-

the-morning ideas that has to be expressed. Now.

CUT TO:

88 INT. HOTEL HALLWAY - 5 A.M. 88

Mackelway stands outside Room 217 at a Mariott. He's just

knocked on the door.

Fran opens it, in a robe. Very confused. He looks manic.

FRAN:

What're you--

MACKELWAY:

I can't get a read on this guy.

Two minutes ago, she was sound asleep.

FRAN:

Huh?

MACKELWAY:

Why is he sending us all this sh*t? I've

got 800 pins in that map, 800 missing

people. What's he telling us?

She gets it now:
he's on a combination of painkillers and lack

of sleep. Or maybe she can sense where he's been...

MACKELWAY (CONT'D)

(rapid-fire)

He kills a travelling salesman, then a

school-teacher. Then Starkey? It doesn't

connect.

FRAN:

You're a mess...

MACKELWAY:

I'm fine. I'm clear. I just didn't think

this could wait. Fran, this guy is trying

to point us at something. Starkey's part

of it. But the other two don't connect.

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