The Ghost and the Darkness Page #5

-it's hard, brutal work-

-but gradually, the wooden structure part is finished- two huge

skeletons facing each other across the Tsavo River- and now work

on the roadbed is going full blast and in the river, the three

foundation pillars are taking shape-

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TONS OF RED ROCK- being shoved into the wooden skeleton to

complete the embankments. As this goes on-

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PATTERSON AND SAMUEL in the river- the foundation pillar work is

going very quickly.

Patterson stops working, looks across the river-

-movement in the grassy area on the far side.

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SEVERAL NANDI TRIBESMEN as they rise out of the grass, gesture to

Samuel who gestures back. The Nandi are a tribe of powerful little

men, primitive, with teeth that have been sharpened to points.

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PATTERSON AND SAMUEL watching them.

PATTERSON:

What are they looking at?

SAMUEL:

You- they cannot believe you're

still here.

PATTERSON:

Nonsense.

SAMUEL:

You don't know what Tsavo means, do

you?

(Patterson doesn't)

It means "slaughter"...

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THE NANDI TRIBESMEN, staring at Patterson, shaking their heads.

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THE TWO EMBANKMENTS, as more and more red rock is shoved and

pushed into shape.

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THE THREE FOUNDATION PILLARS- almost finished.

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THE ROADBED. The same.

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THE NEAR EMBANKMENT as still more rock is forced in and

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THE FAR EMBANKMENT done at last-

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-and Singh stands on the top of the near one while across the

river, Patterson pulls Starling to the top of the other.

And they all look at each other- the embankments are both

finished- THE THREE OF THEM are flying-

-and what they do is this: hold their hands out toward each other,

in Singh's gesture. It's kind of become their password.

HOLD. A big moment for them all!

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SINGH'S TENT AREA

He sits around a fire and the man is exhausted. His dinner plate

is beside him, untouched. He's too tired to eat.

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PATTERSON'S TENT AREA

Starling is there, getting ready for bed. He's wiped out, too.

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SINGH, going into his tent, lying down, breathing deep.

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STARLING is in his tent, turning out his lamp, half asleep

already.

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PATTERSON in his tent, closing his eyes.

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SINGH, deep asleep in his tent-

-he shares it with a dozen others and they're all deep asleep.

They lie on the floor of the tent, heads together toward the

center pole, feet toward the edges of the tent.

HOLD ON SINGH. It's very dark. HE AND HIS MEN just lie motionless,

breathing deeply.

KEEP HOLDING.

Now the CAMERA moves up, high into the center of the tent, looking

down at the circle of men.

KEEP HOLDING.

They don't move, not even an inch. The steady breathing is the

only sound.

YES, KEEP HOLDING.

KEEP HOLDING.

Nothing is going on down there. Nothing at all.

KEEP HOLDING.

Not a goddamn thing.

KEEP ON HOLDING. KEEP ON HOLDING.

And now two things happen at the same time- Singh's eyes go wide-

-and he starts to slide out of the tent, as if being pulled by

some giant invisible wire-

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SINGH. CLOSE UP. Screaming.

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THE OTHER MEN IN THE TENT, waking, staring around and

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SINGH as he slides out of the tent into the night and his screams

grow even louder as we

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THE OTHER MEN IN THE TENT and it's like a bomb just went off, they

rise, spin, cry out, stare-

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THE NIGHT OUTSIDE AND SINGH'S BODY sliding along the ground. It's

pitch black, and he's going head first now, face upwards and he's

going ast tremendous speed and whatever the hell it is that's

making this happen is something we can't make out- because it's so

dark and because it's on the far side of the man, and his body is

in our way and

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UP AHEAD, some bushes and

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SINGH, his body going faster than before and his cries are

weakening-

-CUT TO

THE NIGHT and his body and there is no sound at all coming from

him now and there is no sound from whatever it is that is making

this happen- all we see, barely, is the limp body of the big man

as it skims along and-

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UP AHEAD NOW, a low clump of bushes.

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SINGH'S BODY, coming closer and

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THE BUSHES and as we get in on them we can tell they are thorn

bushes and now-

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SINGH, suddenly rising magically in the night, his body flying

over the bushes and gone!

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PATTERSON AND STARLING, early morning, their rifles held in front

of them, racing along, suddenly stopping, staring down and

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THE GROUND. At first we can't make out much. Then we can- a spot

of red.

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PATTERSON AND STARLING, hurrying on again.

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THORN TREES, and as they force their way through them-

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A LARGE VULTURE, wings spread wide as it floats slowly to earth-

-HOLD-

-as it lands we can see A DOZEN OTHER VULTURES are already there,

surrounding something-

-but we can't make it out. We are in an area of grass and shadow-

-and specks of blood.

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PATTERSON, cries out in shock and fury, fires his rifle, races

forward.

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THE VULTURES screeching and screaming, taking off, and as we watch

them soar into the morning sky-

HAWTHORNE'S VOICE (over)

What the lion must have done, once

he'd killed Singh, was lick his skin

off so he could drink his blood-

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THE HOSPITAL:

Hawthorne is examining Singh's body, trying to be professional,

but he's clearly upset- it's awful.

HAWTHORNE:

-then he feasted on him, starting

with his feet-

STARLING:

(evenb more upset)

-please- you needn't be so graphic-

HAWTHORNE:

You intend "sorting this out" tonight?

PATTERSON:

I'll try- but this feels so different-

that old lion I killed could never

carry off a man Singh's size.

STARLING:

(maybe a little alarmed)

But you said they were always old.

PATTERSON:

That's what the books say...

(Now from that-)

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FLAMES RISING IN THE DARKENING SKY. NOW-

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ABDULLAH in tears. Where are we?

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

This is Singh's funeral pyre.

Singh's body is being burned.

A LOT OF INDIANS are there. We've caught sight of some of them

before- they worked with Singh on the embankment or lived with him

in his tent.

There is a terrible sense of shock.

Patterson stands at the rear. He is terribly moved. Now, unseen by

the others, he holds his hands out in Singh's gesture one final

time.

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THE FLAMES; they continue to rise...

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SINGH'S TENT

Night. The flaps that were open when Singh was alive are now shut

and tied.

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PATTERSON, the middle of the night. He is alone, fifteen feet up

in a tree near Singh's tent. He holds his rifle, ready for

anything. He cannot get comfortable.

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THE AREA- nothing, no movement.

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SINGH'S TENT. As before.

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THE AREA. No sign of movement of any kind. Dead.

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THE MOON. Lower in the sky. The night is growing to a lose but

there is still darkness.

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PATTERSON. Battling fatigue- but now, for a moment, losing- his

eyes, against his will, start to close, and as they do-

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