They Page #12

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The

wind HISSES through the trees, mussing Paul's hair.

Paul

drops the piece of skin on the ground.

The

birds abruptly stop singing in unison. The WIND CEASES.

Paul

looks around the forest. The sudden quiet has got him spooked. His arms and

legs stiffen. Paul can't even bring himself to move or breathe ...

UNTIL:

SOMETHING DROPS ON HIS SHOULDER ...

Paul

freaks and whirls around, grabbing his shoulder to find

A:

PIECE OF SKIN ...

Clinging

to him. He rips it off and sprints for the footpath.

EXT. WOODS - FOOTPATH - DAY

Paul

sprints out of the forest, running with blinding speed and adrenaline. He

doesn't look back.

Behind

him, the wind HISSES through the trees again.

INT. CABIN - LIVING ROOM - DAY

Julia

comes up from the basement. She hears COUGHING coming from the bathroom.

INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT

Julia

enters the bathroom. Paul is retching and coughing into the toilet. Hair

plastered to his forehead. Pale as death. Shaking badly.

JULIA:

Paul?

What's wrong?

PAUL:

(feeble)

Sick.

She

goes to him. Rubs his shoulders as he COUGHS again.

JULIA:

Oh

baby ...

Julia

brushes the hair from his forehead. She freezes.

Just

above his temple is a SCAB. No bigger than the head of an eraser. Identical to

the one on Julia's finger.

JULIA:

(cont'd)

Paul?

Where did this come from?

PAUL:

What?

JULIA:

This

scab.

Julia

runs her finger over the scab. Paul immediately reels from her touch, pain

shooting through his head, furious.

PAUL:

Jesus! F***!

Julia

is shocked by the severity of his reaction.

JULIA:

I'm

sorry.

Paul

holds his head tight. Almost near tears. Fighting pain.

PAUL:

Just

don't touch it.

JULIA:

How

long has it been there?

PAUL:

Ever

since my head started to hurt.

(then)

I:

think I'm hallucinating.

JULIA:

What

did you see?

PAUL:

Skin

... like it was shed ... and all of these metal pieces ...

Julia

is terribly concerned now. His description frightens her, but she maintains a

visage of calm.

JULIA:

Do

you want to see a doctor? I know there's one in Santa Mira.

PAUL:

I:

can see a doctor in Los Angeles.

(then)

Look,

I want to get out of here, okay? Let's go home.

Beat.

JULIA:

Okay.

She

squeezes his shoulder and walks into --

INT. CABIN - BEDROOM - DAY

Julia

pulls out their duffle bags and suitcases.

Paul's

cell phone RINGS on the table. Julia snatches up the phone and answers.

JULIA:

Hello?

... Yes? ...

(then)

Wait

a minute ... slow down, I can't understand what you're saying ...

Complete

astonishment storms Julia's face. Paul wanders in.

PAUL:

Who

is it?

JULIA:

It's

Terry. Something went wrong.

EXT. SAN FRANCISCO - ESTABLISHING - DAY

Gloomy

and overcast. Storm clouds are brewing.

EXT. SAN FRANCISCO - STREET - DAY

The

Range Rover pulls down a crowded street.

INT. RANGE ROVER - DAY

Julia

is sitting behind the wheel. Navigating traffic.

Paul

sits on the passenger side, leaning against the window, his face pressed

against the glass. Somber and weak.

THROUGH:

THE WINDSHIELD:

The

twisted remains of a car accident has brought everything to a near standstill.

Police are everywhere. An ambulance is parked along the curb, lights flashing.

Julia

leans forward to get a better look.

JULIA'S

POV:

A:

TEEN ACCIDENT VICTIM presses a white towel against his thigh. Blood gushes from

it. A huge metal ROD sticks out of his leg.

EXT. SAN FRANCISCO - STREET - DAY

The

Range Rover moves past the shredded cars involved in the accident. Twisted

metal covers the street.

EXT. PACIFIC HEIGHTS - LATE AFTERNOON

Summer

rain is falling. THUNDER ROLLS overhead.

The

Rover pulls up to the sidewalk, directly in front of an extremely opulent

upper-class house.

INT. RANGE ROVER - LATE AFTERNOON

Julia

turns to Paul who sits silently in the passenger seat. He doesn't move.

JULIA:

Sure

you don't want to come with me?

PAUL:

I'm

too sick. I need to stay someplace.

JULIA:

I'm

worried about leaving you here.

PAUL:

(shrugs)

It's

not like he'll disown me.

JULIA:

I:

know.

PAUL:

And

I really need him right now.

More

THUNDER. Julia kisses his cheek.

JULIA:

I'm

taking the cell phone. You call me.

PAUL:

Promise.

JULIA:

See

a doctor.

PAUL:

I:

will.

Paul

opens the passenger door and steps out into the rain. Julia watches him

approach the house. Then, she pulls away from the curb.

INT. PACIFIC HEIGHTS RESIDENCE - FOYER - LATE AFTERNOON

A:

nice house. Large and affluent.

The

DOORBELL CHIMES.

A:

few moments pass before a sullen FIGURE arrives at the front door and pulls it

open, revealing ...

PAUL:

standing

on the front porch. His wet hair plastered to his forehead, rain streaming off

his cheeks, his handsome face turned pallid and colorless.

He

manages a sheepish smile.

PAUL:

Dad.

Standing

at the door is a man in his mid-fifties, MR. LOOMIS. A severe presence with a

soured and weathered face. He stares at Paul without any sign of emotion.

Paul

notices the slight. He presses onward. A bit haltingly. Still hopeful and

trying to connect.

PAUL:

(cont'd)

I:

was hoping we could talk ...

(beat)

I:

know we haven't done much of that recently, but still ...

(beat)

I:

was hoping.

Beat.

PAUL:

(cont'd)

I'm

in a lot of trouble. I'm getting sick ... and I was hoping ...

(beat)

I:

was hoping you could help.

Paul

is having difficulty speaking. He's almost reduced to tears as he stands in the

cold, stinging rain.

PAUL:

(cont'd)

I:

want to come home. Please Dad.

(desperate)

Please

let me come home.

A:

moment of silence.

PAUL:

(cont'd)

Please?

His

father stands steely eyed. His voice is icy and distant.

MR.

LOOMIS:

I:

don't know you.

Paul

is devastated. He can barely utter a sound.

PAUL:

I'm

your son.

Agonizing

beat.

MR.

LOOMIS:

I:

don't have a son.

(then)

I:

don't know you.

He

slowly closes the door. Paul begins weeping openly.

PAUL:

Dad

...

The

door is shut in his face. Nothing can be heard except for the rain falling

outside.

EXT. SAN FRANCISCO - MARKET - LATE AFTERNOON

Julia is standing near the entrance. Waiting

patiently.

A figure across the street catches Julia's

attention -- a HOMELESS MAN stumbling down the sidewalk, talking to himself,

shaking a rattle.

VOICE:

(O.S.)

Julia?

Julia

turns around, searching, not immediately recognizing the figure that briskly

approaches her --

It's

Terry. But her once perfect appearance has become harsh and drawn. Her blonde

hair has been colored dark brown. There are sagging circles under her eyes. Her

skin is colorless. She moves quickly. Nervously.

Julia

is shocked.

JULIA:

Terry?

Terry's

hands tremble.

TERRY:

I'm

glad you came. You don't have any idea how scared I've been.

JULIA:

Why

did you change your hair?

Terry

is about to answer when a BABY starts crying in the market. Fear takes control

of her face.

TERRY:

We

can't stay here.

JULIA:

Why?

TERRY:

Where

are you parked?

JULIA:

On

the street.

TERRY:

Good.

If we keep moving, they might have trouble tracking us.

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