The Abyss Page #22

---

TIGHT ON BUD, rigid, staring. Catfish puts his hand gently on Bud's shoulder.

Suddenly Bud tears Catfish's hand away and sets upon Lindsey like a madman,

renewing his efforts in spades... totally manic.

BUD:

No! NO! She's not... her heart is strong,

she wants to live... can't you see that? Come

on, Lins. Come on, baby! Zap her again! Do

it... DO IT!

They do. And Bud works, feverishly. He lock his lips over hers and starts

mouth-to-mouth. It is frantic, passionate... the kiss of life.

BUD:

Come on, breath! Goddamn it, you b*tch, you

never backed down from anything in life... now

fight!

He slaps her face, hard. Her head lolls. He smacks her the other way.

BUD:

Fight, Goddamnit!

LINDSEY's POV, from the bottom of the great well. The circles of faces and

light rockets toward us in the blackness, as we soar upward from the pit. We

see Bud yelling, but his voice is distant, windlike.

BUD:

FIGHT!!

TIGHT ON LINDSEY, still. Then something incredible happens. Something they

will never forget as long as they live. Lindsey coughs once, weakly, and her

hands clench in a spasm.

Bud see it and his expression becomes beatific.

BUD:

Come on, Lins. You can do it... fight your

way back, baby...

The others look on in wonder as Bud wills this woman back.

She starts to cough, weakly at first... then more violently as she draws air

into her lungs. Bud crouches over her, rubbing her limbs... trying to re-

establish circulation. It is like a difficult birth. Lindsey comes hacking

and howling back into the world, wet and naked and fighting for breath.

Bud puts the oxygen mask over her face and she draws breath after agonized

breath. He pushes her wet hair back from her face with his trembling hands,

and watches her breathe. Color is returning to her skin as she lies there,

gasping weakly.

ONE THE GROUP... Catfish, Hippy, One Night, Jammer, the others... they're

all grinning, crying, beaming... gazing at the miracle of her rebirth.

ON BUD... tears are streaming down his face.

BUD:

(a whisper, fierce and harsh)

You did it, ace.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. DEEPCORE/QUARTERS -- LATER 196

TIGHT ON LINDSEY, sleeping peacefully. WIDER shows Bud hovering over her,

attentive. They are alone in Bud's tiny cubicle. Perhaps twenty minutes

have passed. She is completely swaddles in blankets, except for her face,

and looks like a waif.

Lindsey's eyes flutter and open. The first thing she sees is Bud, bending

over her. He can't help himself. The tears break again and roll down his

cheeks. She seems terribly fragile, but bright and aware. She smiles,

faintly... touches his cheek.

LINDSEY:

Hey... big boys don't cry, remember?

BUD:

Hi, lady.

LINDSEY:

Hi, tough guy. I guess it worked, huh?

BUD:

'Course is worked. You're never wrong, are you?

How d'you feel.

LINDSEY:

I've been better. Next time it's your turn,

okay?

Bud's expression turn inexplicably grim.

BUD:

Well, you got that right.

CUT TO:

INT. SUB-BAY197

TIGHT ON BUD'S EYES, as Monk's fingers insert acrylic scleral lenses under his

eyelids so he can see in the fluid helmet.

WIDER reveals Bud is wearing the SEALs' deep suit. Everybody is grouped

around, buckling and zipping. He is hyperventilating with an oxygen mask,

part of the procedure for transitioning from air to fluid breathing. Monk,

on his stretcher, is presiding. The resident expert. Lindsey is wrapped in a

blanket, still looking wan and frail. She doesn't have the strength to resist

Bud's will, but she's trying.

LINDSEY:

No, Bud, no... not you.

BUD:

Who then?

She looks around at the others. Sees their eyes. The fear. Has her answer.

He lowers the helmet over his head. Catfish clamps it down. We see what's

driving him... his sense of responsibility for these people, for not being

able to prevent this situation.

He touches her cheek, one last time. She sees his fingers are trembling.

Then he puts on the gloves. Catifsh is strapping a KEYPAD UNIT onto Bud's

forearm. Lindsey wants to scream... to stop this madness.

BUD (muffled)

So I'll hear you, but I can't talk?

MONK:

The fluid prevents your larynx from making

sound. It'll feel a little strange.

BUD (muffled)

Warning you now, folks, I'm a lousy typist.

(a beat)

The moment of truth, huh?

His breathing is shallow and tense. He looks at Lindsey. The eyes of a

condemned man. She squeezes his hand. He takes a deep breath.

BUD:

Okay. Let's rock and roll.

Monk gently cracks a valve on the suit's feed line. The breathing fluid (3M

fluorocarbon emulsion FX-80) swirls into the helmet. Bud reflexively raises

his chin. The liquid fills toward his mouth.

MONK:

Relax now, Bud. Just keep breathing as it

fills... don't fight it. Take it in. Just let

yourself take it in.

Suddenly, there's nothing in there to breathe but liquid. His eyes go wide,

instant panic. He starts to thrash. Chest heaving.

MONK:

Hold him. Hold him. This is normal... it'll

pass in a second. You're gonna be okay. We all

breathe liquid for nine months, Bud. Your body

will remember.

Lindsey grabs Bud's shoulders, steadying him. He finds her eyes, the look

calming him. He's passed into a realm from which she has already returned.

His spasms subside. He begins to "breathe" normally. He gets a goofy look

of wonder on his face, not really believing what he's experiencing. He is

alive, alert and quite completely drowned inside the FBS helmet. He grins.

Gives a big thumbs up. Lindsey picks up a microphone.

LINDSEY:

Can you hear me okay?

(another thumbs up)

Try your keypad.

Bud taps out a brief message. FEELS WEIRD - YOU SHOULD TRY THIS prints out

on their portable monitor.

LINDSEY:

I already have, moron.

They help Bud to the edge of the dive platform. Jammer and Hippy lower Little

Geek into the water and Bud grabs onto it. Hippy yells right up next to his

helmet.

HIPPY:

I redid Little Geek's chip the same as Big Geek!

He should take you right to it. All you gotta

do is hang on!

Lindsey crouches at the edge to watch Bud submerge.

He looks up at her as he drops away.

In a few seconds, she can't see him. Her chin quivers, minutely.

EXT. DEEPCORE/THE WALL198

FROM FAR BELOW, Deepcore is a faint tiara of lights, above in the blackness.

A single moving light appears above, at the edge of the cliff, and starts

down. It grows large, resolving into Bud, free-falling down the wall.

He gathers speed as Little Geek's vertical thruster drives them down.

Bud looks down. Between his feet he can see a short way down the wall in the

glow of his single light, and beyond that an unfathomable blackness. The wall

unrolls upwards out of the darkness like a convoluted gray drapery. He looks

up. The lights of Deepcore are gone. He feels more alone than he has ever

felt. He types out: CANT SEE YOU

Rate this script:5.0 / 2 votes