The Crazies Page #6

A BLACK CHEVY SUBURBAN WITH TINTED WINDOWS idling at the

corner by the bank. Not a car that belongs to Ogden Marsh.

David approaches, hand drifting instinctively toward his gun.

It tears off down the road. Fantastic acceleration. David

stares for a moment, baffled. As he dashes back to his

cruiser to give pursuit, a panicked WOMAN jogs across the

street from the pizza shop.

WOMAN:

Sheriff, we heard something from

the funeral home little while ago.

DAVID:

What'd you hear?

WOMAN:

Screamin'.

28.

A frozen moment. David turns his gaze to the funeral home up

the street. Grabs his CB handset from the cruiser. Brings

it to his mouth and clicks the button. Dead.

DAVID:

Lizzie, run down the station, tell

Russell what you just told me, tell

him I need him asap.

She takes off running as David heads up the street to the

funeral home, unholstering his weapon for the second time in

three days.

EXT. FINLEY FUNERAL HOME - DAY

Closed for business. David tries the front door. Locked.

He goes around the back.

INT. REAR ENTRANCE, FUNERAL HOME - DAY

Where the bodies are brought in. David enters, nervous, gun

drawn. He stops and faces

A WHITE TILED CORRIDOR

Sterile. Eerily silent. A few gurneys and unopened boxes of

odorless body bags and cotton shrouds in the hall.

DAVID:

Charlie?

No reply. David comes slowly along, white-knuckled grip on

his gun. The hall is lined on both sides with closed doors.

David comes to a door, turns the knob, opens it to reveal

THE EMBALMING ROOM

Stainless steel embalming tables. Sinks. Sluices. Rinse

hoses dangling from the ceiling. No bodies. No Finley.

David continues down the hall.

Comes through a door into the front of the shop. The FUNERAL

HOME. Pink-hued walls. Liver-colored carpet. David pushes

open another door.

A ROOM OF CASKETS

darkly polished. On display. David steps in, scans the

room. All the caskets are open except

THAT ONE.

He crosses to it. With a silent two-count throws open the

lid and takes aim at

29.

A SILKY WHITE PILLOW

Empty casket. David closes it. To his immediate left A

CURTAINED ALCOVE

runs the length of the wall. Coming past it to the door,

David suddenly steps back and levels his gun.

SOMEONE IS HIDING

behind that curtain. The tips of his shoes poking out

underneath.

DAVID:

Charlie?

No reply. But there’s definitely a man in black shoes

standing there. David steps closer. Takes hold of the

curtain. Whisks it open to reveal A

ROW OF MANNEQUINS IN FUNERAL SUITS AND SHOES

David almost puts a bullet in one. Curses under his breath.

Suddenly hears something. Very faint. Coming from behind

him. Down the white-tiled hall he just exited...

Is someone WEEPING?

David c*cks the hammer of his gun. Follows that FAINT

MUFFLED WEEPING down the hall to a closed door.

Opens it.

THE MORGUE:

No sign of Finley. Just sheet-covered CORPSES on autopsy

tables. The weeping HAS STOPPED.

David enters. Autopsy scales hang beside the bodies.

Closets and refrigerated shelves along the walls. David

yanks open a closet door, gun trained, expecting to find

Finley. Nothing but medical supplies.

A faint WHIMPER turns his head. He stares at the FIVE

COVERED BODIES.

DAVID:

Charlie, if that's you, say

something!

No reply. Gun in hand, he steps closer to the bodies. Peels

back the covers one by one:

30.

RORY HAMILL'S CHALK WHITE CORPSE.

THE DECOMPOSING PILOT.

DEARDRA FARNUM'S CHARRED CORPSE.

HER SON'S.

David stares at the LAST COVERED BODY. We can see the

outline of a face. The sheet expands and contracts at the

nostrils. Slightly. As if from breath.

DAVID:

Charlie?

No answer. Gun levelled, David takes the edge of the sheet,

whisks it back to find

THE TOWN PASTOR:

Weeping through sutured eyelids. The sutures on one eye have

loosened, a ghastly eye peers out through the slit. His

nostrils and lips are sewn shut, arms and legs bound to the

table with gauze.

DAVID:

Jim - ?!

The Pastor goes into violent CONVULSIONS. David grabs a pair

of surgical scissors from a tray and, pinning the writhing

body with one hand, cuts the sutures sealing the mouth.

The Pastor's lips come apart like a deep fleshy wound, his

convulsions subsiding only because death is imminent. In his

last tortured breath:

TOWN PASTOR:

Behind... you...

What? David turns.

WHIRRRR!! - THE BLADE OF A BONE SAW coming right at his face.

Finley swinging it at arm's length with psychotic calm.

David goes down and Finley pounces, driving the blade at his

throat. David catches Finley's wrists, barely keeping the

saw at bay, forces the spinning blade against the leg of the

autopsy table. SPARKS FLY as it cuts into the steel.

Finley counters. Finding his knees, he brings the saw above

his head for a final plunge. But David catches him with a

thrusting kick to the gut. Sends Finley crashing into the

storage cabinets.

31.

As he jumps up for more - BANG! - David shoots him. Finley

falls in a heap. But in death he has launched perhaps his

most lethal attack, dropping the SAW.

Locked in the 'on' position, it COMES SKIP-BOUNCING ACROSS

THE FLOOR AT DAVID, propelled by the spinning blade. David

scrambles backwards on his haunches, but can't outrun it.

Just as it's about to hit him in the face

A BOOT:

stomps on the saw's cord, leashing it like a wild dog. The

deadly instrument hops and skips around at the end of its

tether, inches from David's face. Until

Russell, owner of the boot, yanks the plug from the wall. He

comes over, helps David to his feet. And only then sees the

Pastor's sad fate.

RUSSELL:

Christ almighty.

A DEAD EYE staring back at them through the sutured slit.

INT. TOWN HALL - NIGHT

Emergency town meeting. Worried TOWNSFOLK abound. David and

Judy trying to manage everyone's fear and anger.

CONCERNED MOTHER

What are we supposed to drink while

the water’s turned off?

DAVID:

The A & P has plenty of bottled.

Bruce’s agreed to sell it at cost

till we work out another source.

Thanks again, Bruce.

The A & P Manager nods.

BANKER:

And it just so happens while all

this is going on none of the phones

are working?

DAVID:

I know, Nathan. Russell’s on his

way to Wichita right now, see if we

can get some answers.

FARMER:

Where the hell's Mayor Hobbs?

32.

HIGH SCHOOL KID:

Hightailin' it to Kentucky.

DAVID:

(shock and disgust)

What - ?

HIGH SCHOOL KID:

Saw him on the way out of town.

Fat bastard practically ran me

over.

The kid’s mom swats him for talking like that. David and

Judy exchanging a look about Hobbs. De facto town leaders.

ANOTHER FARMER:

So whoever drank it's gonna go the

way of Rory and Bill? I drank it.

My wife drank it. My kids.

JUDY:

We don't know that it's going to

affect everybody the same,

everybody’s body reacts a little

diff -

EERIE LAUGHTER cuts her off. A woman in the back. Horn-

rimmed glasses. Ten-dollar wig. Going red in the face she's

laughing so hard. It's creepy, she can't stop. Everybody

just stares as this demented old lady laughs and laughs.

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