Untraceable Page #11

The Task Force hurries down the hall. Marsh has managed to

get up alongside Brooks-

55.

MARSH:

But this is exactly what he wants!

Anything we say, any publicity

helps him!

BROOKS:

We’ll see about that.

Before she can protest, Brooks bursts through doors into-

INT. BALTIMORE CITY HALL PRESS ROOM -- CONTINUOUS.

Marsh tries to regain his attention-

MARSH:

Please, just hear me out!

Too late. Brooks is greeted by colleagues and associates.

The rest of the Task Force enters around her.

INT. BALTIMORE CITY HALL PRESS ROOM -- LATER -- AFTERNOON.

Under the glaring lights of media cameras, Chief of Police

Beckett speaks at a lectern to a room packed with national

press-

CHIEF BECKETT:

We’re gathered here to share some

information in regard to criminal

conduct that has originated in the

Baltimore metropolitan area, but

which has far-reaching implications.

ANGLE ON BOX AND BROOKS, standing at Beckett’s side. They

hear clicking. They look over and sees Marsh seated, clicking

away at her laptop.

.

CHIEF BECKETT (cont’d)

Because of the uniqueness of the

crimes and because the FBI is able

to provide resources critical to

this investigation, I have asked

them to lead the inter-agency task

force assigned to the case.

BACK TO MARSH, who studies killwithme.com. The Viewer

counter is still fairly low -- 5,406,000. The Estimated Time

Of Death is still at over 11 hours.

The blood from the letters cut in Carver’s chest and from his

nose runs faster. He still struggles to free himself.

56.

Marsh screen-captures and magnifies a detail off the site.

It’s the killer’s muted TV, showing Beckett’s face live at

the press conference, perfectly in sync with the words we are

hearing in the background:

CHIEF BECKETT (O.S.) (cont’d)

Now let me turn it over to Special

Agent in Charge of the FBI’S

Cybercrime Division -- Wynn Brooks.

BACK TO SCENE, as Marsh goes back to her full screen and

Brooks, grim-faced, steps to the microphone.

.

BROOKS:

Thanks, Chief.

(beat)

Two weeks ago, a man was killed in

cold blood on the Internet. This

sadistic murder, streamed live, was

facilitated by individuals who

visited the killer’s website,

believing, no doubt, that what they

were watching was a mere stunt.

(beat)

I can assure you that it wasn’t.

ANGLE ON MARSH, staring at her computer screen. Her eyes

react as the Viewer counter begins to fly upward at a much

faster rate.

BROOKS (O.S.) (cont’d)

Now, today, a second individual has

been taken hostage, and his life,

too, is in jeopardy.

The counter moves even faster. Marsh looks over at Box, her

eyes urgent. Box sees the screen, looks over at Brooks.

Decides whether to intervene. With every word Brooks says,

the Viewer counter spins faster-

BROOKS (cont’d)

Mr. Carver is known to many of you.

But he is more than a distinguished

reporter, he is also a doting

father to two sons, Eric and

Jesse...a loving husband to his

wife Louise...a devoted son to his

mother Beatrice. This is not a

hoax. Not a video game. It’s

real. All-too-real. Any visit to

this site...to this criminal

enterprise...will hasten the demise

of Mr. Carver, something that none

of us could possibly wish for.

57.

Brooks clearly feels that he has accomplished something. He

looks down and sees Marsh’s screen. His face twists with

disbelief.

The Viewer counter spins wildly. Blood pours down from the

letters on Carver’s chest. Carver screams as the swelling

and pain builds. Brooks, shaken, looks at Marsh, then back

at the press, then at the camera-

.

BROOKS (cont’d)

Your government is asking you to

say away from this website! And to

spread the word to your family,

friends, and neighbors!

Marsh watches in horror, as on the screen, IN SLOW MOTION,

Carver arches his back and screams into his gag. Blood

squirts from his eyes and runs down his cheeks.

REAL-TIME. Marsh gasps. Brooks looks, sees the nightmare,

and is at a complete loss.

Seeing the look on his face, the Press begins to murmur and

grow uneasy. Box, unable to help himself, leans down to the

microphone-BOX

If you visit the site...you’re an

accessory to murder! You may not

believe it, but it’s the truth!

You’re his murder weapon!

Marsh stares in horror, as ON THE SCREEN, Carver looks as

though he will explode. He is in absolute agony, flopping

like a fish on a line.

Blood pours down his chest and from his ears, eyes, mouth,

nose. He arches his back and lets out a final muted scream.

Abruptly, it explodes into GUT-WRENCHING SOUND, which we can

only hear because now we are in-

INT. OWEN’S BASEMENT -- SAME -- EVENING.

Suddenly, Carver slumps, too weak even to lift his head. His

bleary, bloody eyes slowly rise and stare at us.

An accusation?

Suddenly, a lightning-fast MONTAGE starts, flashing around

the country, from COMPUTER TO COMPUTER, showing the vast

spectrum of people watching Carver.

58.

It includes people from every walk of life, of every age,

class, and race; some are tearful, some morbidly fascinated,

some disgusted, others laugh.

FINALLY WE LAND ON ANOTHER ANGLE, and we see that Carver

isn’t staring at us. He’s staring at Owen who, moving behind

the blinking camera, calmly adjusts one of his lights.

.

Carver’s bloody gag slips a few inches. Surprised, seeing a

glimmer of hope, Carver works his tongue, trying to make it

fall farther. But then a fresh wave of pain hits him and his

pants are suddenly drenched with blood.

INT. CITY HALL CONFERENCE ROOM -- LATER.

The Task Force surrounds Marsh, who sits at a City Hall desk

with her laptop.

BECKETT:

Good God!

GRIFFIN:

His lips are moving!

Marsh screen-captures and magnifies Carver’s mouth. The gag

has fallen farther. We can see his lips. Marsh barks at

Griffin-MARSH

Get Tim on the phone! Tim Wilks,

hurry!

(to all)

His gag slipped! He’s trying to

tell us something!

Griffin hands Marsh the phone-

MARSH (cont’d)

(into the phone)

Tim, are you at the site?

INT. DIAL-UP ROOM -- RIVERTON -- DAY.

Wilks sits at his desk in front of a “Speak and Read”

telephone for the deaf.

WILKS:

Yes.

Across the telephone screen, whatever Marsh says spits out in

typed text.

59.

MARSH (O.S.)

Capture Carver’s mouth. Magnify

it. What’s he saying?

Wilks captures the image, magnifies it, leans down close to

the screen to read Carver’s lips.

WILKS:

Eight....Eight...Eight....wait...

then....Green something. He’s

trying again. Oh, I get it. Okay.

It’s an address, I think. Eight...

Eight...O...Eight... Greenleaf-

INT. CITY HALL CONFERENCE ROOM -- LATER.

The Task Force can’t believe their luck.

.

PETERSON:

There’s a Greenleaf in Silver

Springs, three blocks from his

mother’s nursing home.

WILKS (O.S.)

(from the phone)

He’s trying again!

Everyone turns to look at Carver on the screen, but, almost

immediately, he vomits what looks like coffee grounds all

over himself, and then, a moment later, like a giant spider,

a hand appears over the lens, holding a lens cap, and the

screen goes black.

Rate this script:4.5 / 2 votes