The Monster Squad Page #13

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EXT. SUNNY SIGN COURT

Lize's legs are no match for Liam's gait, and she begins to

stumble. Liam pauses and hefts her up, his stride still

favoring his uninjured leg. Chud is panting and seems to be

about six steps from passing out; Deacon looks over his

shoulder in mid-run, and yells back at the others.

DEACON:

SPLIT!

Liam breaks left, and Chud goes right. Their divergence

narrowly avoids the dive-bomb SWOOPING of the vampire bride,

who screeches as she spirals past. Liam and Lize leap over

the curb and through the shadowy stretch of a neighbor's

front yard, continuing over the autumn leaves strewn on the

lawn and through to the backyard.

80.

EXT. NEIGHBOR'S BACKYARD

The Cross siblings pick their steps through the gloomy

darkness of the backyard. It's been thoroughly neglected,

with seasonal debris and branches laying thick on the ground,

a sagging woodshed and a huge pile of unused firewood. Liam

runs to the shed and tests the door; it's padlocked shut. He

tugs Lize over to the woodpile, but she balks and tugs on his

arm.

LIZE:

Liam, there's spiders…

LIAM:

Yeah, and they've got LITTLE fangs,

Lize. I'll go first, okay?

Liam crouches and begins to duck into the hole within the

sagging pile of timbers, but is stopped by the sudden

MOVEMENT of a shadowy form. It pushes him back, clutching his

jacket's collar.

DEACON:

Of all the f***ing places on the

street to hide, you pick THIS one!

Deacon's wedged in tight, hood pulled over his head. Liam

lets out a sharp breath and pushes him BACK.

LIAM:

Can we debate this later? MOVE.

Deacon edges back on his knees and elbows, several logs

shifting in the process. Liam lets his arm slip off of Lize's

shoulders, going low and leading the way into the makeshift

hiding place.

.

LIAM:

Alright, once I get in, you take my

hand and…

81.

Crunch. Crunch. The sound of feet on gravel averts Liam's

attention. Lize turns around slowly, only to find the

backyard empty and quiet; or, it is for the scant few seconds

before the VAMPIRE BRIDE touches down from the home's

rooftop, landing in a sleek crouch and scuttling forward. Red

eyes wide, fangs bared, moving too fast to avoid. The little

girl SCREAMS.

BOOM. A single round thunders through the night, hitting the

creature square in the hip. The bride twists around, as do

the huge eyes of the kids; standing there beneath the glow of

the porch light is none other than the CAFETERIA LADY. She's

dressed to impress nobody in a baggy sweatshirt and jeans,

feet bare, a four-barreled SHOTGUN smoking from its cradle in

her arms.

The vampire lurches forward, changing direction. The woman

doesn't flinch, but instead raises the gun again, and begins

firing.

CLICK. BOOM. CLICK. BOOM. CLICK. BOOM.

The vampire powers through the impact of the blasts,

staggering forward. The cafeteria lady pulls the trigger once

more; it makes a hollow click. No more rounds. The bride

licks at her lips, mere steps away.

BRIDE:

All out of bullets, b*tch?

CAFETERIA LADY:

Looks like.

The bride CHARGES, snarling. There's a sharp flurry of

movement; with one fell swing, the cafeteria lady pulls a

short wooden stake from the shotgun's butt, and POUNDS it

into the creature's sternum. The vampire contorts violently

and falls backwards, limbs curling in like a dead bug and

steam rising from its gurgling mouth.

82.

The kids can do little more than GAWK at their rescuer. Chud

and D'Juan come piling around the side of the house, slicked

with sweat and completely out of breath. They take in the

scene with a blank state of disbelief, as the woman cracks

the shotgun open and lets the shells spill out.

.

CHUD:

How did she… get here… with that?

CAFETERIA LADY:

(Sarcastically)

I'm the f***ing cafeteria lady.

INT. DOCTOR MACBETH'S OFFICE

We cut abruptly to the meditative face of Kaziglu Bey, seated

in doctor Macbeth's office. His dark eyes snap open suddenly,

the firelight from the hearth reflected in them.

INT. THE SHROUD HOUSE

CLUNK. The shotgun thuds dully atop a coffee table, as the

cafeteria matron has a seat in an overstuffed armchair. The

inside of her home is cozy, filled with antiquated drapes and

old furniture, and oil paintings on the walls. She strikes a

match and lights a fat cigar, kicking her bare feet up.The

five kids sit on an old couch across from her, stark-still.

Crammed in shoulder-to-shoulder, they simply stare at her in

a state of shock, barely breathing.

CAFETERIA LADY:

So. You got questions. Start

asking.

The kids exchange looks.

D'JUAN

Was… what just happened out there

real?

83.

CAFETERIA LADY:

(Pained)

No, it was done with computers. For

Christ's sake. Anybody got a real

question?

CHUD:

You're the cafeteria lady.

CAFETERIA LADY:

That's not a question, and I've got

a goddamned name. Angeline Shroud.

D'JUAN

I'm D'Jua-

MRS. SHROUD

Yeah, I know who you are. All of

you. I punch you little shits' meal

cards every day, remember?

She glances to Lize.

MRS. SHROUD

Except you, sweetie. What's your

name?

LIZE:

Lize. I'm his sister. Um, was that

lady another vampire?

MRS. SHROUD

"Another"?

All eyes go to Liam. He glares back, and sullenly speaks.

LIAM:

When that thing showed up, I was

telling a story about… this guy who

seemed to be a vampire. I saw him

at Cherrymount asylum last night.

84.

He was there with another guy and

they saw me, then the next thing I

know this f***ing mummy thing

they've got comes to life and tries

to kill me.

LIAM(cont'd)

CHUD:

You kinda left that part out.

LIAM:

Yeah, because you a**holes were

totally hanging on every word?!

MRS. SHROUD

Alright, cork it before you leave a

piss-stain on my couch. The mummy.

Was it the same one that was stolen

from the maritime museum?

LIAM:

Probably. I think so.

MRS. SHROUD

No. Was it the EXACT same mummy?

Yes or no?

DEACON:

Lady, how many f***ing mummies are

there in Seatonville proper?

.

MRS. SHROUD

Hopefully, there's more than one,

because if the bastard you saw IS

Colton Darrow's corpse, then we're

all in a handbasket full of

bullshit.

Shroud rises and moves across her living room, fingers

tracing along the spines of books packed tightly in an old

cabinet.

85.

MRS. SHROUD

Now, I'm going to talk. Whether or

not you believe me isn't any of my

concern, but seeing as you little

shits have gone and stuck your

heads on the chopping block…

She drags a book out and returns to her seat.

MRS. SHROUD

… you deserve to know what you're

up against. Short story made long,

mankind's been waging a guerilla

war against the powers of darkness

for the last two thousand years.

The Dark Ages marked the last time

that humans had their balls in a

sling by the creatures of the

night, and they didn't take too

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