Wyvern Page #6

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- This is Beaver Mills.

Thank God.

- This is Alaska Security

on approach. Over.

- Tell them to stay away!

Do not approach!

- Why?!

(suspenseful music)

(snarling)

- Eighty days of day

is almost over.

- Yeah, this solstice

was a real b*tch, wasn't it?

- Mm-hmm.

- Yeah.

Maybe we should give ourselves

something to celebrate.

(wheezing)

- Eggs.

- Hey, David.

David, it's Claire.

Listen, honey, it's past 11:30.

I'm not even serving eggs

anymore.

- No. It has eggs.

- What'd he say?

- He said that it has eggs.

- Tell me exactly what you saw,

David.

- It has eggs.

Three.

- That nest.

- Kill it.

- David, honey, what was that?

- Kill it.

(groaning softly)

- David, come on, stay with us,

David.

- Jake, we still got

no real plan for sure.

- For sure we gotta kill it.

Claire, keep trying the CB

every few minutes.

- What? I'm going with you.

- What? No, it's too dangerous.

- Too dangerous for who?

Would you look at yourselves?

A truck driver, a DJ,

a retired colonel and hillbilly.

- Hey,

who you callin' a hillbilly?

- Hass,

you made your own fur jacket.

- Answer's no.

- Jake.

She is a hell of a shot.

- Okay, fine, let's go. Come on.

- Edna, you gonna be okay

here with Maggie?

- Yes, of course.

Better leave me a gun, though.

- Yeah, okay.

- Edna, stay quiet,

stay away from the doors,

and keep on trying that CB.

Let's go, come on.

It's just a little bit farther

down here.

Okay, it's right here. Stay low.

- Oh, my God.

- It's unreal.

- Colonel, you see that?

- There.

- That genny making you think

what I'm thinking?

We run a current

to electrify the nest.

When that thing comes back,

it dies.

- Are you sure

you can jerry-rig this thing?

- More or less.

- Just make sure...

it starts with one pull.

- It's a Power Supreme 5000.

She'll start.

- Oh... hell!

(roaring)

(growling)

(roaring)

- The cable!

(snarling)

(snarling)

(roaring)

Hit it!

(motor starting)

(snarling)

- Hass?!

(Claire crying)

- Colonel! No!

- Why?

- The eggs are bait.

- Jake, Jake...

What is that?

Jake?

- I dunno.

- Jake...

what is this?

- Jake, what are we doing here?

- It's my claim.

- What?

- It's my replacement rig.

Poor guy drove in to all this.

- Great.

So what now?

- Jake!

- We're a bit pressed for time

here, son.

- Jake, what are you thinking?

- I need two things.

I need the GPS from Doc's car

and I need that egg

strapped into the truck here.

(rock music)

You guys get back in the truck

and hightail it over to Edna.

- And then what?

- Wait for me.

GPS set?

- Get you where you wanted.

Don't know what you're gonna do

when you get there, but...

... hope to see you again.

- You will.

- You sure you don't want

some company

on this one?

- No.

I gotta go do this one alone.

(rock music)

(music fading)

(truck horn blowing)

(horn blowing)

(GPS):
Three miles

until destination.

(horn blowing)

(horn blowing)

(horn blowing)

(snarling)

(suspenseful music)

(snarling)

(roaring)

(roaring)

Two miles

until destination.

(snarling)

(suspenseful music)

(roaring)

One mile

until destination.

(roaring)

Destination.

(guitar music)

(music)

- There he is.

Jake!

(music)

- Is it over?

- It's all done, Colonel.

It's over.

Maybe we all

can get some sleep now.

- Your new rig?

- Yeah, I didn't need it anyway.

I like it just fine here

in Beaver Mills. Come on.

Hey, Edna...

got Maggie with you?

- Jake, Maggie passed away

a year ago.

- Good for you, Edna.

Good for you.

(slow western music)

(music fading)

(rock music)

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