FADE IN:
EXT. THE FULL MOON, CLOSE NIGHT
It nearly fills the screen, swimming mysteriously in the
warm late summer air.
SOUND: Crickets.
THE CAMERA PANS SLOWLY DOWN TO:
EXT. TRAIN TRACKS IN THE COUNTRY NIGHT - AND MOONLIGHT
CREDITS BEGIN.
A rail-rider comes chugging along the tracks. Aboard is
ARNIE WESTRUM, a big man in a strappy T-shirt and chino
pants. He is drinking beer.
ARNIE (sings)
My beer is Rheingold the dry beer...
Think of Rheingold whenever you buy beer...
He drains the rest of his own bottle of Rheingold and tosses
it to one side. Up ahead we see a switching point.
ARNIE throws the rail-rider into neutral, opens the toolbox
on the back, and brings out a big five-cell flashlight. He
shines it on the switch.
He gets a crowbar from the toolbox, plus a big wrench, a
pair of pliers, a hammer, and a pair of work gloves. He also
gets another bottle of beer and sticks it into his back
pocket.
ARNIE jumps down and approaches the switch.
CREDITS CONTINUE.
EXT. ARNIE, AT THE SWITCHING POINT NIGHT
He drops his tools, pulls on his work gloves, and trains the
light on the switch for a moment. During this:
ARNIE (sings)
It’s not bitter, not sweet, it’s a real
frosty treat, won’t you try, won’t you
buy Rheingold beer...
He tries the switch. No go. It’s frozen.
ARNIE
Stuck tighter’n dogshit in a deep freeze!
He takes the bottle of beer from his back pocket and fishes
a churchkey from one of the front ones. He pops the cap and
drinks deeply. He burps. Then he screws the half-empty
bottle of beer into the cinders so it won’t fall over. Then
he picks up his crowbar.
CREDITS CONTINUE.
EXT. THE RAIL-RIDER NIGHT
There’s a SOUND of bushes shaking. Something comes out -
something huge. It leaps limberly onto the rail-rider. It is
a werewolf with greenish-yellow eyes. Tatters of clothes
still hang from it.
What kind of monster, exactly? It is humanoid as well as
wolfish... and when we learn who it is in its human form, we
should be able to spot the resemblance at once...and kick
ourselves for not knowing earlier.
It crouches there, huge and bushy and fanged and deadly, on
the whole rail-rider.
CREDITS CONCLUDE.
EXT. ARNIE NIGHT
He’s working the crowbar into the junction point just as
hard as he can. Swearing at it under his breath. Suddenly,
both the tracks and the switch move.
ARNIE
Hot damn! Now... a little oil...
He turns back toward the rail-rider.
EXT. ARNIE, ARRIVING AT THE RAIL-RIDER NIGHT
ARNIE
It’s not bitter, not sweet... it’s
a big fuckin’ treat...
A NOISE - bushes rattling; cinders clinking and rattling.
ARNIE looks around.
EXT. THE RAILS AND THE SWITCHING POINT, ARNIE’S POV NIGHT
Nothing there. His bottle of beer stands by the litter of
his tools.
EXT. ARNIE, AT THE RAIL-RIDER NIGHT
He’s rooting around in the toolbox, back to the switching
point.
EXT. ARNIE’S BOTTLE OF BEER, CU NIGHT
A hairy hand/paw closes around it - we see huge curved claws
on that hand.
EXT. THE WEREWOLF’S FACE, CU NIGHT
Glaring green-yellow eyes; a savage, beastial face which is
still half human. That’s all we see. The rest is in shadow.
It opens its mouth and upends the bottle of beer. Foamy
Rheingold begins gurgling down the werewolf’s throat.
EXT. ARNIE AT THE RAIL-RIDER NIGHT
He comes up with an old-fashioned oilcan, the kind with the
long spout. He starts back to the switching point, waving
the can.
ARNIE (sings)
My beer is Rheingold the dry beer...
Think of Rheingold whenever you fry beer...
He arrives, looks down... and stops singing. His eyes widen.
EXT. THE CINDERS BY THE TRACK, ARNIE’S POV NIGHT
We can see the hole where ARNIE put his beer, but it is of
course empty. Beside it are two huge prints in the cinders,
half wolf, half human.
EXT. ARNIE NIGHT
He’s beginning to be afraid. Beginning to look around to see
what might be out here with him. Beginning to realize he is
in extremely deep shit.
SOUND: A SHATTERING, SNARLING ROAR
EXT. THE WEREWOLF NIGHT
It rises up on its hind legs, eyes glaring an ugly yellow
green. Its snout wrinkles back, revealing those teeth.
EXT. ARNIE NIGHT
He’s craning back to look at the thing, his face a grue of
horror.
ARNIE
Oh n-
A huge clawed hand/paw comes sweeping down. ARNIE’s head is
granted an immediate Reno-style divorce from the rest of his
body.
EXT. THE RAIL-RIDER NIGHT
SOUND of the beast approaching. A hairy arm and taloned hand
reaches into the toolbox bolted to the back and rummages.
The hand is dripping blood.
It comes up with a bottle of Rheingold.
The WEREWOLF begins to sing. It is a bizarre funny-horrible
grunting, the words hellishly recognizable.
WEREWOLF (gutteral; subhuman)
My beer is Rheingold the dry beer...
No bottle opener for this thing; it brings the neck of the
bottle down sharply on the edge of the toolbox. Beer foams
out.
EXT. THE WEREWOLF’S FACE, IN DEEP SHADOW NIGHT
He/It rams the jagged neck of the bottle deep into its mouth
and drinks. Foam drizzles down its pelt. It’s grinning.
WEREWOLF (snarling voice)
Think of Rheingold whenever you buy beer...
EXT. THE WEREWOLF, CU NIGHT
The bottle is empty. There are CRUNCHING SOUNDS as it begins
to eat the bottle.
Blood begins to run out of its mouth; its face wrinkles in
pain and fury. It spits out broken, bloody jags of glass.
Looks up. It HOWLS.
EXT. TARKER’S MILLS NIGHT - MOONLIGHT
We’re looking at Main Street of a small country town - might
be New England, might be mid-South. Might be 1984, might be
1981. This is Tarker’s Mills, and in places like this, time
moves more slowly. Cars - not too many - move back and
forth. No one is in a hurry.
We see the Methodist church (and the parsonage next door);
Andy’s Sporting Goods; Owen’s Pub, with its Narragansett
neon sign. We see a barber shop with a striped pole; we see
the Holy Family Catholic Church and the rectory next door.
We see the Gem Theater, which is showing a revival of Sophia
Loren in "Two Women."
It’s Our Town, U.S.A.
JANE (voice-over)
This place is Tarker’s Mills, where I
grew up... and this is how it was when I
was fourteen - a place where people cared
about each other as much as they cared
about themselves. This is how my town
looked as, all unknowing, it approached the
rim of the nightmare. The killing had begun.
SOUND: The HOWL of the WEREWOLF - distant, a bit dreamy.
EXT./INT. TARKER’S MILLS MONTAGE NIGHT
a.) VIRGIL CUTTS, owner of Virgil’s Texaco, is filling up a
car. We hear the HOWl... and VIRGIL looks up uneasily.
b.) In the barber shop, BILLY McCLAREN, the barber, is just
taking the apron off the Methodist minister, REV. O’BANION.
They both look around.
c.) Folks are coming out of the Gem Theater. They pause at
the sound of that HOWL and look toward the edge of town.
EXT. THE SETTING MOON, CU NIGHT
As JANE speaks, we see the moon sink below the horizon.
JANE (v-o)
The killing had begun, but at first no
one knew it. Arnie Westrum was a chronic
drunk, and what happened seemed like an
accident.
EXT. THE RAIL-RIDER AND ARNIE’S HEADLESS BODY NIGHT
Slowly the view improves, grows lighter, as we TIME-LAPSE TO
DAWN.
SOUND: A train is approaching. We hear its horn.
CAMERA MOVES IN. Here is a shattered Rheingold bottle. There
is a litter of ARNIE’S tools. And here, on the cheek of
ARNIE’S severed head, a few ants are checking things out.
SOUND: The train’s horn, MUCH CLOSER.
JANE (v-o)
The county coroner concluded that Arnie
passed out on the tracks. There wasn’t
enough evidence to conclude anything else.
And suddenly the train comes smashing into the frame, horn
blaring. The rail-rider goes flying. ARNIE’S body disappears
underneath. We see something flopping and moving under
there. It could be a bundle of rags. Could be... but isn’t.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. TARKER’S MILLS TOWN COMMON DAY
The common is more or less in the center of town, either
surrounded by Main Street commerce or backed by it. THE
CAMERA MOVES SLOWLY IN on a big tent that’s been erected on
the Common - looks like a revival meeting tent, almost, but
the banner draped over the entrance reads: SUPPORT THE
TARKER’S MILLS MEDCU DRIVE!
Behind or to the side, on the grass, picnic tables have been
set out end-to-end. Women are putting salads and home-baked
breads on these - just about the whole town is going to sit
down to a meal when the meeting’s over. Further off, men are
tending barbecues, roasting corn, etc.
JOE HALLER (amplified voice)
I’d like to give you Father Lester Lowe,
of Holy Family Catholic Church!
Enthusiastic applause greets this.
INT. THE CROWD DAY
Most of the town is here, seated on folding chairs. We’re
looking particularly at three people - NAN COSLAW, her
husband BOB, and their fourteen-year-old daughter, JANE. It
is JANE - a slightly older JANE - who we have heard
speaking. She is now a bit bored with the meeting, which has
been going on for some time. As the APPLAUSE CONTINUES, she
leans toward her mother.
JANE
I’m going out for a while, ’kay?
NAN
All right. Stay close. And make sure your
brother’s all right.
As JANE gets up, the applause starts to fade a bit.
NOTE: JANE is wearing a silver crucifix, and will continue
to wear it through the whole movie.
INT. THE PODIUM DAY
To one side is a big black-and-white photograph on an easel.
It shows a van which has been customized into an emergency
medical unit.
Behind the podium are four chairs. REV. TOM O’BANION sits in
one of them. ANDY FAIRTON sits in another, red-faced and
beaming. JOE HALLER, the town constable, is just returning
to his; LESTER LOWE is just approaching the mike as the
applause dies. LOWE’S face shines with love and goodwill.
LOWE
For the last ten years...
No amplification. He taps the mike.
INT. JANE
She is making her way down the row to the aisle (the people
should be seated in folding chairs). She passes a GIRL of
about her own age who has overheard NAN’S parting shot.
GIRL (mocking)
"Make sure your brother’s all right."
JANE (low)
Marty’s a booger.
She reaches the aisle and starts out.
INT. THE PODIUM, FEATURING FATHER LOWE
He taps the mike again.
INT. THE CROWD, FEATURING BOB AND NAN COSLAW
BOB (good-natured)
Just pretend you’re in your own church
askin’ for money, father! It’ll work fine!
Good-natured laughter greets this.
INT. LOWE AT THE PODIUM
A bit flustered, he taps the mike and is rewarded by a BRIEF
SCREAM OF FEEDBACK.
LOWE
For the last ten years, I have had a
dream. A dream of a time when modern
medical care would come to this small
community, which sometimes seems so far
from Durham, with her lifesaving
hospitals. I hope that this meeting, at
which I see so many of my friends
gathered, will be the start of making my
dream come true.
SOUND: Enthusiastic applause.
EXT. A SNAKE IN THE GRASS, CU
It’s a blacksnake... harmless, but big. It goes wriggling
through the grass toward a stream. In the b.g. - SOUND OF
APPLAUSE.
MARTY (voice)
Holy...! Brady, are you sure they’re
not poisonous?
BRADY (voice)
Little old blacksnake? Hell, no!
Hands - the rather grimy hands of a boy bent on mischief -
grab the blacksnake.
EXT. MARTY AND BRADY, CU
BRADY holds the snake up. Both boys gaze at it with
respectful wonder.
NOTE: MARTY is wearing a silver St. Cristopher’s medallion,
and will through the whole movie.
MARTY
Lemme hold him!
BRADY hands it over. As MARTY looks at the snake, BRADY
sees:
EXT. JANE, COMING OUT OF THE TENT DAY
JANE (v-o)
I was almost fifteen that summer. My
brother Marty was eleven. Marty and his
friend Brady Kincaid were the crosses I
had to bear. Brady was actually the worse
of the two, but I was rarely disposed to
see that. Not when my younger brother was
so constantly thrown in my face by my
parents.
LOWE (v-o from the tent)
$32,000 is a lot of money. But when you
think of the lives this unit might save, it
seems very inexpensive indeed.
Applause greets this.
EXT. MARTY AND BRADY
Again we are fairly tight on the boys - we see them from
waist or chest height. BRADY snatches back the snake.
BRADY
I got an idea.
MARTY
What?
BRADY looks toward JANE. MARTY follows his gaze. His eyes
widen.
MARTY
You wouldn’t.
BRADY grins. MARTY assesses the grin.
MARTY
You would.
INT. THE PODIUM, WITH LOWE
LOWE
An endeavor like this seems to me to be
the very definition of community - all
of us pulling together as one, farmers
and merchants... Protestants and Catholics...
EXT. JANE
She is walking slowly toward the picnic area, and is passing
under a tree. There’s more applause from the tent.
BRADY (teasing voice)
Jane... Jane...
She looks up. The blacksnake dangles down toward her, almost
touching her upturned face.
JANE shrieks and bolts. She gets a little way, trips over
her own feet and falls down hard. She’s wearing what was a
nice jumper and nylons. Now the jumper is torn and the hose
shredded at the knees.
EXT. THE TREE, WITH BRADY
He’s lying over a limb with the snake in his hand, laughing
wildly.
EXT. JANE
She gets up, looks at her clothes, her bloody knees. She’s
near tears.
EXT. MARTY, AT ONE SIDE OF THE TREE, FAIRLY TIGHT
The shot’s from the chest up. He looks sorry he was a part
of this little stunt, as he ought to be.
MARTY
It was just a blacksnake, Jane-
EXT. JANE
She looks around at him in a fury of embarrassment and
something very close to hate.
JANE
Look at my knees! Look at my dress!
I hate you!
EXT. BRADY, UP IN THE TREE
BRADY
Did wittle Janie make wee-wee in her
teddies?
EXT. MARTY
MARTY
Stop it, Brady.
EXT. BRADY, UP IN THE TREE
He throws the snake.
EXT. JANE
She dodges the snake with a little scream. She’s beginning
to cry, but she flips BRADY the bird just the same.
EXT. BRADY, IN THE TREE
BRADY
Ooooh, naughty!
EXT. MARTY
He moves toward JANE - there is something queerly unnatural
in this movement, and in a moment we’ll understand, but for
the time being we must be puzzled.
MARTY
Jane, I’m sorry. It was just a joke. We
didn’t mean-
He’s reached her. JANE is sobbing now, hysterical.
JANE
Oh, no! You never mean to! I hate you,
you booger!
She runs away.
EXT. THE TREE, WITH BRADY
He swings down and comes over to MARTY.
BRADY (with satisfaction)
Really got her goat that time.
EXT. MARTY
He’s in a wheelchair, looking glumly after JANE.
MARTY
Oh, shut up, Brady. You’re warped.
EXT. NEAR THE BANDSTAND, FEATURING JANE DAY
She’s walking slowly along, still crying a little. Now she
steps behind some bushes, looks around, hikes up the skirt
of her jumper, and wriggles out of the wrecked panty hose.
STELLA RANDOLPH (voice)
Wait! Don’t go!
Startled, JANE looks around, instinctively yanking her dress
down. No one in sight.
MAN (voice; rough)
Just leave me alone!
Now she looks toward:
EXT. THE BANDSTAND, JANE’S POV
A man who looks like he might be a traveling salesman who
has just stepped whole and breathing from a dirty joke about
the farmer’s daughter comes striding down from the
bandstand.
STELLA RANDOLPH, a plump but sweetly pretty girl, comes to
the stairs but does not descend them. She is also crying -
but these are real tears, folks. STELLA is a human Niagara
Falls.
STELLA (calls)
Please! You have to help me!
EXT. THE GAY DECEIVER
DECEIVER (keeps walking)
It’s your oven, but it ain’t my bun
you’re baking in there. Sorry, babe.
B.g. SOUNDS: More applause.
EXT. JANE
We can hear STELLA sobbing as JANE walks slowly toward the
bandstand with her panty hose still balled up in one hand.
JANE looks suddenly aware that she’s not the only one in
this sad world who has troubles. She reaches the foot of the
stairs going up to the bandstand and tosses the hose
absently in a litter can.
JANE mounts the steps timidly.
JANE
Stella? Is that you?
EXT. ON THE BANDSTAND
STELLA has retreated to one of the benches, where she is
bawling into a handful of Kleenex. Pudgy and twenty-two, she
is both funny and terribly sad. She looks around at the
sound of JANE’s voice.
STELLA (alarmed)
Who - ?
JANE (approaching closer)
It’s Jane, Stella. Jane Coslaw.
STELLA sees it is, and turns away from her, still weeping.
JANE stands, uncertain what to do next. After a moment she
approaches closer and touches STELLA’S turned back timidly.
JANE (tenderly)
What’s wrong?
STELLA (weeping)
He’s going away. I know he is.
JANE
Who’s going away?
STELLA turns to her, weeping still and distracted.
STELLA
What am I going to tell my mother? If
he won’t marry me, what am I going to
tell my mother?
JANE (bewildered)
Stella, I don’t know what-
STELLA
Oh, leave me alone! Just leave me
alone, you stupid thing!
STELLA lumbers across the bandstand and down the steps. JANE
stares after her, bewildered and perhaps even a little
frightened.
INT. THE PODIUM, WITH REV. O’BANION
O’BANION
Let us pray.
INT. THE TOWN HALL GATHERING
Most of them bow their heads.
INT. REV. O’BANION, AT THE PODIUM
O’BANION
May the Grace of God shine upon those
gathered here... and lift them up... and
grant success to the endeavor to which
they have so openheartedly declared their
support. Amen.
INT. THE GATHERING
They raise their heads. Some echo the "Amen." Others cross
themselves.
EXT. THE PICNIC AREA
People are coming out and getting ready to chow-down.
EXT. THE COSLAW STATION WAGON DAY
Traveling along a country road. Headed home.
INT. THE STATION WAGON DAY
BOB and NAN COSLAW are sitting up front. MARTY and JANE are
in the backseat. JANE is as far from MARTY as she can get.
She’s still mad as hell. Band-Aids crisscross her knees.
MARTY’S wheelchair is collapsed in the cargo area of the
wagon.
NAN turns around to look at the kids - and it’s really JANE
she’s mad at.
NAN
I want you two to bury the hatchet.
You’re being very silly, Jane.
JANE (hot)
Did you see my knees?
MARTY
Jane, I-
NAN
I think you’re being mean as well as
silly. Your brother has never had a
scraped knee in his whole life.
Well, here it is - the chief source of JANE’S animus against
her brother and the source of most of the tension in the
COSLAW family.
MARTY winces and turns away a little, embarrassed - this
always happens. He doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t know how
to make his parents - his mother in particular - quit it.
JANE
You always take his side because he’s a
cripple! Well, it’s not my fault that he’s
a cripple!
MARTY
Come on, Jane- it was Brady’s idea. I
couldn’t stop him.
JANE
Brady’s a booger and so are you!
NAN
Jane Coslaw!
BOB (roars)
Stop it or I’ll throw the whole bunch of
you out!
In this traditional family unit, BOB is the Voice of
Authority. They all heed, although the atmosphere remains
thundery.
INT. THE STATION WAGON DAY
Train tracks run near the road.
INT. THE STATION WAGON, ENSEMBLE DAY
BOB (points)
That’s where poor old Arnie Westrum
pitched his last drunk.
He crosses himself and they all look toward:
EXT. THE GS&WM RAILROAD TRACKS (STATION WAGON’S POV)
INT. THE CAR DAY
BOB
They had to pick up what was left of
him in a peach basket.
JANE
Oh, Daddy! Gross!
MARTY
Did he really get his head cut off, Dad?
That’s what Brady said.
JANE
If you don’t stop it I’m going to vomit.
I mean it.
NAN (no sympathy)
You’re not going to vomit, Jane. And I
think we’ve all had quite enough of this
horror-movie talk.
INT. MARTY, CLOSER DAY
Craning back to look at the spot where ARNIE bit the dust.
His face is thoughtful, solemn.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. THE COSLAW HOUSE NIGHT
JANE is lying in bed, her face to the wall. Dim light falls
on her unhappy face as the door is opened.
MARTY (v-o)
Janey?... Are you awake?
JANE says nothing.
INT. THE DOOR TO JANE’S BEDROOM, WITH MARTY NIGHT
He is in his "house wheelchair" - not the Silver Bullet (he
was in the Bullet during the Common scene, but we didn’t get
a very good look at it). He has some stuff on his lap. A
box, for sure.
MARTY
Can I come in?
INT. JANE
Her eyes are open but she says nothing. Just looks at the
wall.
INT. MARTY
He rolls across to her bed and puts something on her night
table. SOUND of change and a rattle of paper. She rolls over
and sees he’s put about three bucks on the table. Plus a can
of mixed nuts.
JANE
What’s the money for?
MARTY
A new pair of panty hose. Is it enough?
JANE
I don’t want your money. You’re a booger.
MARTY
It was Brady’s idea, Jane. Honest to God.
Please take the money. I want to make up.
She looks at him and sees he’s sincere - honestly contrite.
She softens. There’s hope for these two kids yet, maybe.
JANE
I can get a pair of L’Eggs down at the
pharmacy for a dollar forty-nine. Here.
She pushes the rest back to him, then looks at the can. She
picks it up, curious.
MARTY
That’s for you, too. Uncle Al gave it
to me-
JANE (scorn)
That drunk!
MARTY
-but I want you to have it.
He gives her a warm, melting smile. When your little brother
is being good to you it’s time to watch out - but JANE has
been lulled. She starts to open it, then looks questioningly
at him.
MARTY
Yeah, go ahead.
She opens it. A long paper snake - the kind with a spring
inside it - leaps out. She shrieks.
JANE
You booger!
MARTY backs up the wheelchair so he’s out of her reach.
MARTY (grinning)
It really is for your birthday, though -
try it on Brady. He’ll wet his pants.
JANE
Go to hell!
INT. MARTY, BY THE DOOR
MARTY (smiling)
I love you, Janey.
INT. JANE, IN BED
She tries to be angry with him... and cannot (this is a
response, we’ll find, that both MARTY and his UNCLE AL
evoke). She smiles at him a little.
INT. MARTY
He reverses his wheelchair, also smiling a little, and
leaves.
EXT. TARKER’S MILLS, UNDER THE MOON NIGHT
We’re looking down at a brave little nestle of lights.
SOUND: A HOWL.
EXT. A HOUSE SOME DISTANCE OUT IN THE COUNTRY
There’s one light on upstairs and another downstairs... also
downstairs is the bluish flicker of TV light.
An ivy trellis climbs one side of the house.
SOUNDS: Canned laughter; TV dialogue.
INT. THE LIVING ROOM OF THE RANDOLPH HOUSE
STELLA’S MOTHER, asleep in front of the TV.
INT. A PRETTY CHINA DISH, CU
A whole bunch of capsules are dumped into it.
THE CAMERA DRAWS BACK to show us STELLA, sitting by her
vanity mirror. The rest of the room is reflected in the
mirror, including the window - we are upstairs.
[NOTE: It would be nice to see that fat moon floating in the
window!]
There’s a framed picture of STELLA’s ex-boyfriend on the
vanity beside the dish of pills. STELLA sets down the empty
prescription bottle the pills came from beside this picture.
We can clearly read the word "Nembutol" on it. There is also
a large glass of water on the vanity table.
STELLA turns the picture facedown. She might be crying but
probably she’s not. She takes about five of the pills,
starts to lift them to her mouth-
A HOWL outside... closer.
STELLA looks around for a moment, then takes the pills with
some water. She pauses, looking at herself.
STELLA
Suicides go to hell. Especially if
they’re pregnant. And I don’t even care.
She takes another five pills. And another five.
SOUNDS: Rattling foliage.
EXT. THE IVY TRELLIS NIGHT
Claw-hands are seizing it and climbing. SOUNDS of hoarse,
guttural breathing.
INT. STELLA AT THE VANITY TABLE
She takes another handful of pills... and the window behind
her shatters inward. There is a bellowing roar as the
werewolf throws itself through.
INT. THE LIVING ROOM, WITH MOTHER
She sits up, startled awake.
From upstairs: ANOTHER SHATTERING ROAR... FOLLOWED BY A
SCREAM.
INT. STELLA’S ROOM, WITH STELLA
She runs... and a huge claw-hand rips through the back of
her nightgown.
INT. THE LIVING ROOM, WITH MOTHER
MOTHER
Oh my dear God... Stella!
She runs for the doorway and the hall. From upstairs comes a
confusion of SOUNDS: roars, breaking furniture, shattering
glass.
INT. STELLA’S BED, CU
One of those deadly claw-hands sweeps down the bed, ripping
through the sheets... the mattress... the spring itself.
Hairy, muddy feet with protruding talons leap onto it.
EXT. STELLA’S WINDOW, EXTREME UP-ANGLE
The werewolf leaps out - it’s graceful, savage, animal.
SOUND: A TRIUMPHANT HOWL.
INT. THE UPSTAIRS HALL, WITH MOTHER
She’s found an ancient pistol somewhere and is lugging it
gamely along.
MOTHER
Stella!...Stella!
She reaches the closed door of STELLA’s room, vacillates
there for a moment... and then pushes it open and goes in.
A long beat of silence as we hold on the door.
MOTHER SHRIEKS.
INT. MOTHER’S FACE, ECU
She shrieks again.
INT. STELLA’S ROOM, WIDE
It’s a total shambles; blood is splattered everywhere; the
mirror is broken, the picture of DAN the gay deceiver is
broken; the bed is torn in two. There are big, muddy
wolfprints on the remnants of the bed.
STELLA lies propped in the corner with Nembutols all around
her. Suicide may have been what she planned, but it sure
isn’t what happened.
MOTHER SHRIEKS.
EXT. TARKER’S MILLS MONTAGE MORNING
a.) MR. PELTZER puts out his paper rack - just the
"Press-Herald" this morning. He looks shocked and grim. The
scare headline: BRUTAL MURDER ROCKS WESTERN MAINE. We can
see STELLA’S photograph.
b.) Through the window of Robertson’s Luncheonette, we see
the proprietor, BOBBY ROBERTSON, talking earnestly with a
bunch of men. Among them: MILT STURMFULLER, ALFIE KNOPFLER,
VIRGIL CUTTS, BILLY McCLAREN, and ELMER ZINNEMAN, a farmer
we’ll meet later.
c.) At Andy’s Sporting Goods, ANDY FAIRTON is putting a big
hand-lettered sign in the window. It reads: REMINGTON
SHOTGUNS SINGLE ACTION DOUBLE ACTION PUMP PROTECT YOURSELF
AND YOUR FAMILY!
d.) At the Methodist parsonage, a ’53 Dodge pulls slowly out
and MOTHER RANDOLPH gets out, weeping. As she approaches the
parsonage door, LESTER LOWE comes out and embraces her.
EXT. A SMALL BRICK BUILDING ON MAIN STREET
The sign reads: TARKER’S MILLS TOWN OFFICE.
INT. A HALLWAY, FEATURING A DOOR WITH A PEBBLED-GLASS PANEL
Neatly lettered on the panel: TARKER’S MILLS CONSTABULARY.
And below this: JOSEPH HALLER.
JOE HALLER (voice)
Okay...yes...Oh, fuck off!
INT. THE CONSTABLE’S OFFICE, WITH HALLER AND PETE SYLVESTER
HALLER slams the phone down with an angry bang. He looks
like a guy who has been up all night. PETE, his pudgy
deputy, looks like a high school athlete who has suddenly
found himself batting in the World Series.
PETE
What’d they say, Joe?
HALLER
They said they’d be here by noon.
PETE (nervous)
Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea telling
that Smokey Bear from the Detective
Division to fuck off, Joe.
HALLER (morosely)
I waited until he hung up. Jesus, what a
mess. I wish I’d stayed in the army. Let’s
go on out there.
He gets slowly up.
EXT. TARKER’S MILLS CONSOLIDATED SCHOOL AFTERNOON
It’s a comfortable red-brick building on a side street. Ivy
climbs up the sides. Two or three rows of bikes stand along
one side of the building.
SOUND: The bell rings.
A beat or two, then the doors bang wide and a billion kids
spill out. It’s the end of the first day of school, and they
are excited. They range from Grade 1 to Grade 8. Most kids
book it for home as fast as they can, getting on their bikes
and riding or just running.
Everyone has a pink report card.
EXT. A BUNCH OF KIDS, WITH BRADY KINCAID AND TAMMY
STURMFULLER
BRADY and TAMMY are riding bikes. Now there is the SOUND of
a gasoline engine, and MARTY catches up. He’s got the Silver
Bullet’s motor running for the first time in the movie.
Later on it will sound extremely powerful, like a racing
car, but now it just sounds like a big lawnmower engine with
a muffler on it. It’s pretty cool, though - a bright
metallic silver with flame decals on the motor housing.
Looks sort of like something Big Daddy Roth might have
thought up. On the back is a license plate which says SILVER
BULLET.
BRADY
Look out! Look out! It’s Madman Marty and
the Silver Bullet!
TAMMY laughs.
BRADY
You glad to be back in jail, Marty?
MARTY
Sure - I like school.
TAMMY
You booger.
MARTY
That’s what my sister says, too. Pretty
soon I’m going to start checking the
mirror to see if I’m turning green.
BRADY
I gotta split - see ya, Marty... Tammy.
EXT. THE CORNER OF MAIN AND WALNUT, A WIDER SHOT AFTERNOON
TAMMY and MARTY watch as BRADY zooms off toward home on his
bike.
MARTY pushes in a hand clutch and moves a small lever. He
bumps down over the curb and they cross the street side by
side, TAMMY on her bike, MARTY in his wheelchair.
EXT. MARTY AND TAMMY FROM THE FAR CURB, REVERSE
He pops up over the curbing with a bounce. He shoves in the
little hand clutch and revs the engine. Va-room!
MARTY
Not bad, huh? My Uncle Al took off the
regular muffler and put on a Cherry Bomb.
TAMMY
What’s that?
MARTY
Glasspack. He said he’d come over sometime
this summer and we’d soup up the engine...
but now I dunno. He’s getting a divorce and
he’s in the doghouse with my mother.
TAMMY
For getting a divorce?
MARTY
Well... it is his third.
EXT. A STREET ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF TOWN, WITH MARTY AND
TAMMY
The other kids are gone; they are alone. The sidewalk has
ended and they roll slowly along the dirt verge of the road.
They look toward:
EXT. THE RANDOLPH HOUSE, MARTY AND TAMMY’S POV
The driveway is blocked off with a sawhorse bearing the
stenciled words POLICE INVESTIGATION. The yard is filled
with cop cars - HALLER’S constable car, plus a number of
state police vehicles. Uniformed men come and go.
We can see a large black wreath on the door.
EXT. MARTY AND TAMMY
TAMMY
Thanks for coming with me, Marty- I was
scared to go past her house by myself.
MARTY (matter-of-fact)
Yeah... it is a little scary.
TAMMY
I mean, I saw her. All the time.
TAMMY stops her bike. She’s on the verge of tears.
TAMMY
I used to see her every day, and she never
knew what was going to happen to her, and
neither did I! I mean I know how stupid
that sounds, but...
MARTY
Hey, take it easy. I know how you feel.
He gets the Silver Bullet moving again, and she has to pedal
along to catch up.
EXT. THE STURMFULLER DRIVEWAY, WITH MARTY AND TAMMY
They stop at the end.
TAMMY
There’s something else scary.
MARTY
What?
TAMMY (points)
That.
EXT. OLD GREENHOUSE, MARTY AND TAMMY’S POV
It stands a bit behind the house itself. A creepy place.
Many of the glass panes are broken; some of these - not many
- have been blocked with cardboard. The inside is a jungle
of plants that have run to riot. In the f.g. is a
mucky-looking garden patch where nothing much is growing.
EXT. MARTY AND TAMMY
She is quite deeply troubled.
TAMMY
I’ve been hearing noises in there.
MARTY
What kind of noises?
TAMMY
Rattling. Rustling.
MARTY
Rats...
TAMMY
And my dad says it’s kids. But it’s not
rats and it’s not kids. It’s-
EXT. THE STURMFULLER HOUSE, WITH MILT
Oh my suds and body, here is the Great American Alcoholic
for sure - the rural version. MILT is wearing a suit of
pee-stained thermal underwear. He’s wearing a baseball cap
with the word "Caterpillar" on the front and has a bottle of
beer in one hand (I’m pretty sure that his beer is Rheingold
the dry beer). With his other hand he is busily scratching
his crotch.
MILT
Tammy, you get on in here and do some
dishes!
EXT. THE GREENHOUSE
Sinister...spooky.
TAMMY (voice)
I’ve got to go.
EXT. MARTY AND TAMMY
MARTY
I’d go out and take a look myself, but I
think the Bullet’d get stuck in the garden.
It looks sorta greasy.
She smiles at him, bends over, and kisses him on the mouth.
MARTY is stunned... but happy.
TAMMY
You would, wouldn’t you?
MARTY (Joe Cool)
Sure. No sweat.
TAMMY
Well, it’s probably nothing. I’m just spooked
since... you know.
MARTY
Yeah... but if you hear any more noises,
tell your father. Okay?
TAMMY
Okay. Have you got enough gas to get home,
Marty?
MARTY (Startled)
Jeez!
EXT. THE WHEELCHAIR "DASHBOARD," MARTY’S POV
There’s a gas gauge here, and the needle is almost on "E."
EXT. MARTY AND TAMMY
MARTY
I’m always doing this! I gotta go, Tammy.
MILT (voice)
TAMMY!
TAMMY (calls)
Coming Daddy! (To MARTY) Bye... thanks
again for coming home with me.
She waves and goes biking down the driveway as MARTY motors
back onto the street and turns toward town.
EXT. TAMMY
She brings her bike to a stop by her father.
MILT
’Bout time. Why you want to hang around
that cripple?
TAMMY
I like him.
MILT
Goddamn cripples always end up on welfare.
Ought to electrocute all of ’em. Balance
the fucking budget.
Having delivered this pearl of wisdom, MILT goes inside, now
scratching his ass. TAMMY pauses a moment and looks toward
THE CAMERA, her face troubled and scared.
EXT. THE DESERTED GREENHOUSE, TAMMY’S VIEW
DISSOLVES TO:
EXT. MARTY
He’s buzzing along toward downtown, which is still some
distance away - but at least he’s made it back to the
sidewalk again.
MARTY (prayerfully)
Come on, baby-
He looks down at:
EXT. THE WHEELCHAIR GAS GAUGE, MARTY’S POV
Now the needle is lying all the way over on "E."
EXT. VIRGIL’S TEXACO LATE AFTERNOON
MARTY pulls in. The wheelchair motor starts to pop and lug
and misfire. The chair makes it to the first pump on the
island closest to the street and then stalls as VIRGIL CUTTS
comes over.
VIRGIL
Well, Marty! I see you lucked out again!
MARTY
Yep. Would you fill it up, please, Mr. Cutts?
VIRGIL
Want me to check the oil?
MARTY
Sure!
VIRGIL
Wipe the windshield an check the driver’s
bullshit level?
MARTY laughs; VIRGIL starts carefully pumping gas into the
Silver Bullet’s small tank.
EXT. THE COSLAW HOUSE NIGHT
Overhead is the moon, three days past the full.
UNCLE AL (voice)
I’ll see your Carlton Fiske and raise you
a George Brett... a Dave Kingman... and a
Rod Carew.
INT. THE KITCHEN DOORWAY, WITH NAN COSLAW NIGHT
She’s wiping her hands with a dishtowel and looks like she
just bit into a lemon.
INT. THE DEN, WITH UNCLE AL AND MARTY NIGHT
UNCLE AL is the family’s sheep of a darker color. He’s
thirty, good-looking, raffish. He’s also drunk. He’s got
both whiskey and beer. An ashtray beside him overflows with
butts.
He and MARTY are playing draw poker for MARTY’S baseball
cards. Each has a pile in front of him.
MARTY really loves UNCLE AL... his eyes just glow when he
looks at him.
MARTY
Okay, okay. I call.
He tosses in three baseball cards.
UNCLE AL
Wait a minute, wait a minute!
He grabs one of MARTY’S cards, looks at it, and tosses it
back.
UNCLE AL
Ralph Houk! You can’t bet a manager!
Stone the crows!
MARTY
Okay, okay. Dwight Evans.
UNCLE AL
Piss on him. Piss on all the Red Sox.
He swallows whiskey and chases it with beer.
INT. THE DEN, A WIDER ANGLE
NAN comes briskly over. She’s seen and heard enough. She
favors UNCLE AL with a glare and then looks protectively at
MARTY.
NAN
Come on, Marty- bedtime.
She starts to wheel him away.
MARTY
Mom-!
UNCLE AL
Let the boy finish the game, Nan.
He means it, drunk or not. She reluctantly rolls MARTY back
to the table.
NAN
Make it quick.
UNCLE AL lays down his hand.
UNCLE AL
Three kings.
MARTY (delighted)
I got a straight to the queen!
UNCLE AL
Bullshit luck!
NAN (outraged)
That’s enough!
MARTY (as his mother wheels him away)
Aww, Mom-!
INT. THE STAIRWELL OF THE COSLAW HOME
MARTY is sitting in a stair chair that rises slowly to the
second floor. He looks dejected and glum.
SOUND of NAN hectoring her brother AL. I don’t think we can
make out all of what’s going on, but we’ve all known women
like NAN and I think we can fill in the blanks. "Christian
household... you come here drunk and expect... can’t even
bother to call ahead..." Etc., etc.
A wheelchair stands on the second-floor landing. This one is
no Silver Bullet, only the more humble sort that moves by
arm power. When the stair chair clicks to a stop, MARTY
hoists himself from it into the wheelchair and rolls down
the hall toward the bathroom.
Below, NAN’S rant is still going on.
INT. THE DEN, WITH NAN AND UNCLE AL NIGHT
UNCLE AL is clearing up in a kind of drunken stupor- and I
mean he is really drunk. He’s smoking one cigarette; another
is smoldering away in the heaping ashtray. He drops a pile
of baseball cards on the floor and bonks his head on the
table bending down to pick them up.
NAN
I don’t want you drinking around Marty.
That’s too much. If you can’t stop it,
you better stay away.
AL straightens up. There is a sort of command force in this
man, and here he is partly able to rise above his abysmal
drunkenness so we can see it.
UNCLE AL
I come here because Marty needs a friend.
NAN
Yes... you’ve always been that to him.
But if you can’t leave your booze in
whatever dump you call home, you better
just stay away.
She leaves the room, almost crying. UNCLE AL looks after
her, and then his attention is drawn to the smoldering
ashtray. He pours beer over the mess, putting out the fire
but creating something that looks even worse. He begins
drunkenly picking up again.
UNCLE AL (to himself)
Another wonderful time at Sister Nan’s
house! Heeyyy!
INT. THE UPSTAIRS COSLAW BATHROOM
MARTY, now in pj’s, is brushing his teeth.
JANE comes in- she’s wearing a nightie.
MARTY
Mom was really mad at him this time,
wasn’t she?
JANE
What do you expect, when he comes in
smelling like a brewery and looking like
an unmade bed?
MARTY
Stop it!
He lunges at her, but JANE steps back easily. MARTY
overbalances and falls out of the wheelchair. His toothbrush
clatters across the tile.
BOB COSLAW (sleepy voice)
Hey! That you, Marty?
JANE
He’s okay, Dad!
She looks around swiftly, then bends down.
INT. MARTY AND JANE, A MUCH CLOSER SHOT
One of MARTY’S cheeks is pressed against the floor. His eyes
are shut. He’s weeping.
JANE (low)
Marty, are you all right?
MARTY
Yes. Go away.
JANE
Let me help you up.
NAN (voice)
Marty?
SOUND of her climbing the stairs.
JANE throws a quick look back over her shoulder and then
helps MARTY up in his chair. He helps by pulling on the sink
counter. JANE has time to give MARTY one quick look- "Please
don’t tell on me," it says.
NAN comes in.
NAN
Jane, have you been teasing your
brother again?
MARTY
She wasn’t, Mom- I dropped my toothbrush
and fell over when I tried to get it. Jane
helped pick me up.
He bats his eyes at her.
MARTY (syrupy voice)
Jane’s wunnnderful.
JANE picks up his toothbrush.
JANE (hands it to him)
Here. Brush them good, Marty. Some of that
shit in your head might leak down into your
mouth and poison you.
NAN
Jane Coslaw!
But JANE stalks off. MARTY is grinning. It was a good
put-down.
EXT. THE STURMFULLER HOUSE NIGHT
We can see the moon in the sky beyond the ruined greenhouse.
THE CAMERA MOVES SLOWLY TOWARD the greenhouse. We begin to
pick up SOUNDS: RATTLING...RUSTLING...and low animal GRUNTS.
INT. TAMMY’S BEDROOM NIGHT
She’s deeply asleep.
INT. THE LIVING ROOM NIGHT
"Big-time Wrestling" on the TV. SOUND of a refrigerator door
closing. MILT STURMFULLER comes into the living room from
the kitchen. He’s wearing his long johns with the designer
pee stains and has a quart bottle of Rheingold the dry beer
in each hand. He sits down, looking at the TV.
MILT (drunk)
Give him the airplane! Wring his neck!
EXT. THE GREENHOUSE NIGHT
More noises. There is a beat of silence, and then something-
one of those earthen plant pots, I think- falls over and
SHATTERS.
INT. THE LIVING ROOM, WITH MILT
He looks up briefly- he’s heard something- but the crowd on
the TV is loud and the match is reaching its climax.
MILT (all eyes again)
Give him the sleeper, you fuckin bugwit!
EXT. THE GREENHOUSE, CLOSER
A LOW SNARL. Plants shake and shiver. Another crash, LOUDER.
INT. MILT, IN THE LIVING ROOM
Looks toward the window. He gets up, goes over, and looks
out.
EXT. THE GREENHOUSE, MEDIUM-LONG (MILT’S POV)
SOUND of another crash. Plants move.
INT. THE HALL, WITH MILT
He takes a shotgun from the wall, breaks it, and looks
inside.
MILT
Let’s see if you want to come back and
break my pots all to shit after I put
some rock salt in your asses!
INT. THE STURMFULLER GREENHOUSE NIGHT
The door at the end SCREECHES OPEN and MILT, still holding
the shotgun at port arms, comes cautiously in. This place is
really overgrown.
MILT advances slowly into the jungle of plants, and the
director will shoot it as he likes to build the suspense.
I’m sure that plants brush his face, and a bug or two- maybe
even a big plump spider- will land on him.
He hears a SCUTTERING SOUND and whirls.
MILT (shouts)
Who’s there?
INT. GREENHOUSE FLOOR, MILT’S POV NIGHT
A mouse goes running across the warped boards (which have
pulled apart from each other, showing deep cracks between).
INT. MILT NIGHT
He relaxes and starts forward again. We keep expecting it to
happen, but it keeps not happening.
Then, as MILT is starting back toward the door, two big,
hairy arms come up through the floor- bursting through two
of those cracks and shoving the splintered boards upward-
and grab MILT’S legs at the knees.
SOUNDS: BESTIAL ROARS.
MILT screams and triggers off the shotgun- unfortunately, it
is pointing straight up. Glass showers down on him. He is
pulled down into the shattered hole- now we can see him only
from the knees up.
INT. TAMMY STURMFULLER’S BEDROOM
She sits up in bed.
SOUNDS of ROARS and MILT SCREAMING from the greenhouse.
MRS. STURMFULLER, in a nightgown with her hair done up in
rollers, comes into Tammy’s room.
MRS. STURMFULLER
Tammy, where’s your father?
SOUND: Another SCREAM from the greenhouse.
INT. THE GREENHOUSE, WITH MILT
He’s now waist deep in the hole in the floor, surrounded by
broken, splintered boards.
SOUNDS: RIPPING FLESH, CRUNCHING BONES. MILT SHRIEKS.
He is abruptly jerked downward again. He is being eaten from
the feet up. As he’s jerked down, one of the leaning,
splintered boards rams into his chest. MILT collapses over
it like an old Roman collapsing on his sword.
A hairy arm reaches up and grabs his neck. MILT is jerked
all the way into the hole, board and all.
EXT. THE GREENHOUSE, FROM TAMMY’S BEDROOM WINDOW
SOUNDS of SNARLS, GROWLS, GRUNTS.
INT. TAMMY AND MRS. STURMFULLER
They are hugging each other, terrified, by the window.
EXT. THE STURMFULLER PLACE, MEDIUM-LONG DAY
The police cars are now here. There’s also a meat wagon. As
we watch, a number of cops- JOE HALLER and PETE SYLVESTER
are among them- approach the wagon. Many are carrying canvas
bags.
EXT. THE STURMFULLER YARD, FEATURING PETE SYLVESTER
He drops the blood stained bag he’s carrying, runs to the
bushes, and noisily blows his groceries.
EXT. TARKER’S MILLS MONTAGE #3 DUSK
a.) On Oak Street, MRS. THAYER is hurrying toward home,
obviously spooked. She keeps looking behind herself and
nearly flies up the steps to her house. Then there is the
endless business of fumbling with her keys. Finally she
lurches inside and slams the door.
b.) On Main Street, at the Holy Family rectory, FATHER
O’BANION is closing the shutters...and locking them.
c.) On a residential street, a kid is playing with some
plastic trucks outside of a picket fence. Except for him,
the street is deserted. His mother comes out and hauls him
in.
d.) ANDY FAIRTON, in the sporting-goods store, checks an
automatic pistol and then holsters it on his hip. He has a
pugnacious, unpleasant look.
e.) BILLY McCLAREN turns the sign on the door of his barber
shop from OPEN to CLOSED, looks out warily at the street (to
make sure there are no psycho killers out there for trims, I
guess), then leaves and locks the door behind him. THE
CAMERA FOLLOWS him down a couple of store fronts to Owen’s,
where he also goes in.
f.) The paper rack in front of Peltzer’s Drug/ The
"Press-Herald" headline is a sixteen-pointer: MANIAC CLAIMS
SECOND VICTIM.
EXT. MARTY AND BRADY KINCAID MAGIC HOUR
They’re flying kites on the common. Some distance in the
b.g. is the bandstand. MARTY is of course flying his kite as
he sits in the Silver Bullet. The boys are having a blast.
THE CAMERA SLOWLY MOVES AWAY from the boys, centers on
Owen’s Pub across the street, and ZOOMS IN.
In the window is a poster. It reads: $10,000 REWARD FOR
INFORMATION LEADING TO THE CAPTURE OF THE MAN (OR ANIMAL)
WHO KILLED STELLA RANDOLPH AND MILTON STURMFULLER. And, at
the bottom: TARKER’S MILLS CITIZENS’ COMMITTEE.
Along comes ANDY FAIRTON. He goes into the pub.
INT. OWEN’S PUB
At a f.g. table: VIRGIL CUTTS, BOBBY ROBERTSON, ELMER
ZINNEMAN, and his brother PORTER ZINNEMAN. Behind them, at
the bar, we see PETE SYLVESTER having a beer with BILLY
McCLAREN. As we look around the bar, we will also see FATHER
LESTER LOWE, sitting at an unobtrusive corner table, nursing
a beer and listening closely to the conversation.
ELMER (to VIRGIL)
Don’t tell me an animal can’t rip a man
up the way Milt Sturmfuller was ripped up!
VIRGIL
But the woman’s bed was ripped right down
the middle, Elmer- it’s take a chainsaw to
do something like that!
PORTER
Damn straight!
ELMER
Shut up, Porter. (To VIRGIL) What about the
tracks?
ANDY FAIRTON has joined the group. He sits down uninvited.
VIRGIL
That could be something to throw off the
cops. And it ain’t animals that try to
confues the law; it’s people do that.
ANDY FAIRTON
Law around here don’t need much confusing.
PETE looks around at this. Being the deputy constable and
ineffectual by nature, he’s pretty sensitive.
ANDY (deep disgust)
Joe Haller couldn’t find his own ass if
someone rammed it full of radium and gave
him a Geiger counter.
PETE SYLVESTER (comes over)
Could be I know a fella who’s still PO’d
over getting fined two hundred bucks for
that little fender bender out on the Ridge
Road last year.
ANDY
Could be I know a fat old fella who ought to
take care of his mouth before someone comes
along and turns it inside out. I pay Joe
Haller’s salary to keep the people in this
town safe, and he ain’t doing it.
INT. BILLY McCLAREN, AT THE BAR
He’s looking toward the table where the Fairton group sits.
BILLY (mildly)
Last town report said you was in arrears
your taxes, Andy. Guess you must have paid
up, huh?
INT. THE FAIRTON TABLE
ANDY
What are you, trying to be smart?
OWEN KNOPFLER comes over.
OWEN
You guys turn down the thermostat or I’m
gonna turn you all out. Now who’s drinking?
ANDY (sulks)
Bring me a Schlitz.
EXT. A TREE, WITH BRADY’S SMILE-KITE STUCK IN IT DUSK
SOUND of panting.
MARTY comes into the frame, pulling himself up by the arms.
His arms are very strong, although his legs trail limply
behind him (like the tail of a kite). He sits on a branch,
untangles the kite and the string, and looks down.
MARTY (calls)
Here it comes!
EXT. THE FOOT OF THE TREE, WITH BRADY
BRADY
Drop it!
As the kite flutters down, JANE comes biking up.
JANE
Marty Coslaw, you get down out of
that tree!
EXT. MARTY, IN THE TREE
He descends, then hangs from the lowest branch.
MARTY
Push the Bullet over, Jane, okay?
EXT. MARTY AND JANE
JANE (makes no immediate move to do so)
Supper was an hour ago, Dumbo.
MARTY (hanging)
Oh, Jeez! I forgot! Is she mad?
JANE
They both are. At me, for not getting you
sooner. I ought to let you fall.
But she pushes the chair over and MARTY drops into it. He
pushes the starter and the Silver Bullet fires up.
EXT. BRADY, FLYING HIS KITE ON THE COMMON DUSK
MARTY (voice)
Hey, Brady! You coming?
BRADY (looking into the sky)
In a while!
BRADY could give a shit if MARTY’S in trouble. He just waves
vaguely. He’s into the kite-flying experience, as the folks
in Marin County might say.
EXT. MARTY AND JANE
He’s looking toward the common, frowning and uncertain.
JANE
Come on, Marty.
She starts biking away. MARTY starts after her, pauses, and
looks at:
EXT. BRADY, ON THE COMMON DUSK
CAMERA PANS SLOWLY UP to the yellow smile-kite in the
bluish-purple sky.
INT. OWEN’S PUB LATE DUSK
The former patrons are still here, with the exceptions of
LOWE, BILLY McCLAREN, and BOBBY ROBERTSON. Many others have
appeared; this is Happy Hour. Among them we see MR.
ASPINALL, the principal, and PELTZER, the druggist. A
barmaid, NORMA, circulates with drinks and beers.
Speaking of beer, ANDY FAIRTON has gotten through a fair
amount of Schlitz. It hasn’t mellowed him, however; he’s
more belligerent than ever.
ANDY (holding forth)
This whole investigation has been as
efficient as a Polish fire drill! It-
PETE (bravely)
I’ve heard enough out of you, Andy. If
you don’t shut your mouth, I’m going to
shut it for you.
INT. THE DOOR OF OWEN’S PLACE
It opens and a man in a business suit- HERB KINCAID- comes
in. He is carrying a briefcase and he looks worried.
INT. THE GROUP AT THE FAIRTON TABLE
ANDY (astounded)
What did you say?
INT. THE BAR, WITH OWEN KNOPFLER
OWEN
Jesus wept.
He reaches under the bar and comes out with a baseball bat.
Burned into the side of the bat, so it reads vertically
toward the handle, is the word "peacemaker." OWEN hurries
around the bar with it.
INT. THE FAIRTON GROUP
PETE is standing in front of ANDY, fists balled up, fat face
trembling with determination.
PETE
You heard what I said, motormouth.
ANDY gets up, infuriated. There’s apparently going to be a
brawl. Behind them, HERB KINCAID has approached the table.
HERB hasn’t even noticed what’s going on; he’s got problems
of his own.
INT. HERB KINCAID
He clears his throat. This is a mild, timid man- he doesn’t
like to speak in public, particularly not in a bar, but the
imperatives of the situation demand it right now.
HERB (quite loudly)
Has anyone in here seen my son Brady?
INT. THE PUB, A NEW ANGLE
Everyone looks at HERB. Conversation stops. ANDY and PETE
freeze with their fists balled up, like little kids playing
statues tag. OWEN is caught a little distance from ANDY and
PETE, with the "peacemaker" still in his hands.
EXT. THE TOWN COMMON, LONG
Now it is almost completely dark, and a large reddish summer
moon is rising over the horizon.
SOUND: A LONG, WAVERING WOLF HOWL... LOUD.
INT. OWEN’S PUB
All conversation has stopped. All have turned toward the
door and the windows; all hear the HOWL. Deep fright
overlies each face.
NORMA drops her tray. Glasses and bottles shatter.
INT. THE MAIN CORRIDOR OF THE TOWN HALL
JOE HALLER comes out of the constable’s office in a hurry,
letting the door bang the wall. He’s buckling on his gun
belt.
EXT. THE BANDSTAND
BRADY’S kite, torn in a couple of places, flutters on the
steps leading up to the bandstand. The yellow smile face
grins eerily in the darkness. It is streaked with blood.
INT. OWEN’S PUB
HERB
Brady!
He breaks for the door. ANDY FAIRTON grabs him.
HERB
Get out of my way!
He pushes ANDY aside. HERB is out the door, chased by PETE
and several of the others.
EXT. THE BANDSTAND NIGHT
JOE HALLER (low voice)
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with
thee. Blessed art thou among women...
He comes out of the shadows, his drawn gun dangling by his
side. This man has had an extremely bad shock. The legs of
his uniform pants are splashed with blood. He makes it down
two steps and then sits heavily by the remains of BRADY’S
smiling, bloody kite. He looks straight ahead. He looks at
nothing.
HALLER (low)
...and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb.
Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for
us sinners now...now...
He looks at the kite, then looks away. He puts a hand over
his face and starts to cry.
EXT. THE COMMON, LOOKING BACK TOWARD MAIN STREET NIGHT
A number of men - not all that were in Owen’s but quite a
few of them - are running toward the bandstand. HERB KINCAID
is in the lead, screaming his son’s name over and over.
SOUND: A LONG HOWL, now at some distance.
EXT. THE BANDSTAND, WITH HALLER AND KINCAID
As HERB KINCAID approaches.
HALLER
Stay off the bandstand, Herb.
HERB
Is it my boy? Is it Brady?
HALLER
Don’t go up-
HERB (lunges past him)
Brady! Brady!
Disappears into the dark. HALLER looks down at his lap.
HERB
Br-(CUTS OFF)
The other men arrive, PETE in the lead. HALLER doesn’t look
up.
PETE
Joe, is it-
HALLER (not looking up)
Shhh.
PETE
Is it the Kicaid b-
HALLER (not looking up)
Shhh, I said.
The men look uneasily at HALLER, at each other. ANDY FAIRTON
shoves forward.
ANDY
What the fuck is going on h-
SOUND: HERB SCREAMS. A pause. HERB screams again. The men
flinch back. HALLER doesn’t look up. Now, from the darkness
on the bandstand, HERB begins to LAUGH. The men shrink back
further, looking more uneasy than ever.
HERB (voice; laughing)
We’ll bury his shoes.
Now HALLER gets up and joins the other men.
HERB (voice; laughing)
That’s what we’ll have to do; we’ll bury
his shoes. Maybe in a couple of Roi-Tan
cigar boxes.
EXT. THE BANDSTAND, MEN’S POV NIGHT
HERB KINCAID appears. He is laughing. He is smeared with his
son’s blood. In each hand he holds one of his son’s shoes.
HERB
We’ll bury his shoes because his feet are
still in them and they’re the only part of
him that makes sense anymore.
HERB laughs harder.
HERB
It’s gonna be the cheapest funeral this
town ever saw!
HERB SCREAMS LAUGHTER. THE CAMERA DOLLIES IN TO CLOSE ON
BRADY’S KITE.
EXT. THE MOON, CU
SOUND: HERB SCREAMING.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. HOLY FAMILY CHURCH DAY
SOUND: An organ is playing that sweet old hymn, "Bringing In
The Sheaves."
There are lots of cars parked in front of the church, but
there’s a space left just big enough for UNCLE AL’S MG.
MARTY’S Silver Bullet is strapped to the back.
JANE (v-o)
My mother and father- my mother in
particular- did not much care for Uncle
Al...
INT. HOLY FAMILY CHURCH DAY
MARTY’S chair is at the back of the church. Most of the
mourners are crying. MRS. BOWIE is playing the organ.
BRADY’S coffin is on a bier at the front - closed of course.
There are lots of flowers.
JANE (v-o continues)
...but when it came to such unpleasant
duties as taking Marty to the funeral
of his best friend...
INT. UNCLE AL, MARTY, TAMMY, AND MRS. STURMFULLER IN A PEW
As we look at them, from left to right: UNCLE AL, MARTY,
TAMMY, MRS. STURMFULLER.
UNCLE AL unobtrusively takes a small silver flask from his
hip pocket. Engraved on it in Old English letters is the
word "rotgut." He spins the cap and takes a quick knock. He
pauses and glances at MARTY, who looks deeply stunned.
JANE (v-o continues)
...they didn’t at all mind drafting him.
As to the sort of comfort Uncle Al may
have been able to offer him...
UNCLE AL hands the flask to MARTY. MARTY looks at him
questioningly for a moment, and then drinks. MARTY looks at
TAMMY, who looks frankly terrible. Her mother is looking
away. MARTY nudges her. She looks around at him. He offers
her the flask. Her eyes widen.
JANE (v-o continues)
...I now believe that was best kept between
the two of them...
After a brief moment’s consideration, TAMMY takes the flask
and has a deep swallow. She hands the flask back to MARTY,
who hands it quickly back to UNCLE AL as TAMMY coughs. Her
mother looks at her... then at MARTY and UNCLE AL. UNCLE AL
smiles sympathetically, hiding the flask with one hand, as
if to say, "Isn’t it a terrible thing?" MRS. STURMFULLER
looks distractedly back toward the service.
JANE (v-o concludes)
...or among the three of them.
UNCLE AL pockets the flask just as the organ stops playing.
INT. THE PODIUM, WITH FATHER LOWE
LOWE
Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid have asked that there
be no mass said here this afternoon. There
will be a requiem mass for Brady Kincaid
this Sunday. They did ask me to say a word
of comfort to you, if I could.
He looks out at them.
INT. THE CONGREGATION
They look back at LOWE, hoping for some help in
understanding this awful thing.
INT. LOWE, ABOVE THE COFFIN
LOWE
If there is any word of comfort I can give
you, it’s just this: the face of the beast
always becomes known; the time of the beast
always passes.
He is struggling with this, trying dreadfully hard.
LOWE
If there are times when we feel alone and
afraid, only small creatures in the dark,
then these are the times when we must turn
to one another for our comfort and our hope.
To our neighbors. To our community. To our
love for each other. I alone cannot ease
the pain for Herb and Naomi Kincaid, nor can
I ease your pain, nor you ease mine. But if
I believe anything it’s this: we can comfort
each other. We can heal each other. We can
go on together.
INT. THE CONGREGATION, WITH MARTY AND TAMMY
The kids are crying. MARTY puts an arm around TAMMY and she
puts her head on his shoulder.
INT. FATHER LOWE
LOWE
The Bible tells us not to fear the terror
that creepeth by night or that which flieth
by noonday, and yet we do... we do. Because
there is much we don’t know, and we feel
very small. But we must not be alone. We must
not allow ourselves to be alone, for there is
the wide gate to the hell of terror. Turn to
each other. Join hands in your sorrow and try
to remember that the face of the beast always
becomes known. (Pause) The time of the beast
always passes. (Pause) Let us pray.
EXT. THE MOURNERS, WITH MARTY
MARTY and TAMMY look at each other miserably. TAMMY begins
to cry- for her father as much as for BRADY, one would
think- and she and MARTY embrace.
EXT. UNCLE AL, CU
He looks at the kids with deep sympathy and deep love.
EXT. A COUNTRY ROAD AFTERNOON
UNCLE AL’S sports car passes THE CAMERA. He’s taking MARTY
home.
INT. THE CAR, WITH MARTY AND UNCLE AL
UNCLE AL
You all right, Marty?
MARTY
Yeah.
UNCLE AL
There’s a saying- so-and-so was better than
a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. You
ever hear that one?
MARTY
No.
UNCLE AL
Well, I’m not sure that was. Christ! They
better get the guy.
MARTY
Uncle Al, what if it’s not a guy?
UNCLE AL
Huh?
MARTY
What if it’s some kind of monster?
UNCLE AL (laughs)
Jesus, Marty! Come off it!
EXT. UNCLE AL’S CAR, ON MAIN STREET
It cruises past Owen’s Pub. There are cars parked out front,
but there are also lots of pickup trucks.
INT. THE CAR, WITH MARTY AND UNCLE AL
MARTY
What’s going on at Owen’s, Uncle Al?
UNCLE AL
A bunch of men getting ready to pretend
they’re Clint Eastwood... Marty, didn’t
anybody ever tell you that the only monsters
are in comic books and drive-in movies?
EXT. THE COSLAW HOUSE LATE AFTERNOON
UNCLE AL’S car turns in and parks.
INT. THE CAR, WITH MARTY AND UNCLE AL
MARTY
Tammy said she’d been hearing noises in
that greenhouse. Growling noises, like a
big animal. Her father was killed that night.
UNCLE AL looks at him doubtfully for a moment, as if almost
believing. Then he shakes his head.
UNCLE AL
Marty, you have to get this idea out of
your head. Psychotics are more active
when the moon is full, and this guy is a
psycho. He’s going to turn out to be as
human as you or me. (Pause) In a manner of
speaking. Now let’s get you inside.
He opens his door and gets out.
INT. MARTY, CLOSER
He would like to believe UNCLE AL... but he doesn’t.
INT. OWEN’S PUB LATE AFTERNOON
ANDY FAIRTON
Okay, you all know what group you’re in and
what area you’ll be covering, right?
PORTER ZINNEMAN
Damn straight!
ELMER ZINNEMAN
Shut up, Porter.
The men are all dressed in hunting clothes-
red-and-black-checked shirts, orange caps, etc. They all
have guns. Among their number are a few women as well,
looking tough and determined. We see almost everyone we’ve
met up to this point. LOWE is there, looking deeply
troubled.
ANDY FAIRTON is standing on the bar. These are his
vigilantes; he has organized them. ANDY radiates male macho
football-coach confidence. He’s mesmerized the crowd: they
really believe they are going to go out and Shoot One for
the Gipper.
ANDY
Groups one through four are in the woods
north of the Sturmfuller place. Five and
six west of Carson Creek.
The door at the back opens; HALLER and PETE come in. JOE
HALLER is in extremely bad shape. He hasn’t come back much
from the murder of BRADY. I believe he is having some sort
of spiritual crisis, and while it is not our purpose to
explore what it might be- this is, after all, a horror movie
and not a John Cassavetes film- we can see that it has
seriously weakened his authority.
ANDY (continuing)
Moonrise at 8:52 p.m.
Some nervous laughter greets this. Meanwhile, HALLER and
PETE are working their way to the front, where they end up
next to a grim-faced HERB KINCAID.
ANDY (continuing)
If he comes out to stroll in the moonlight
tonight, we’re going to get the sorry sucker.
INT. THE VIGILANTES, WITH ELMER AND PORTER
PORTER (happily)
Damn straight!
ELMER
Shut up, Porter.
INT. ANDY FAIRTON
ANDY
Just remember, it’s the psycho we want, not
each other. So look before you-
INT. THE CROWD, FEATURING HALLER
HALLER
I want all of you folks to go home!
A disgruntled murmur meets this. HALLER moves forward a bit,
and turns to face them.
HALLER
I can’t remember deputizing a single one
of you!
INT. ANDY FAIRTON
ANDY
That’s right, Joe- the only deputy you got is
that fat shitbag beside you, and neither one
of you has done a damn thing about solving
this case.
There is a mutter of agreement.
INT. A SLIGHTLY WIDER SHOT, FEATURING ANDY AND HALLER
ANDY hops off the bar to face HALLER directly. In the b.g.
we see HERB KINCAID (KINCAID, by the way, should be wearing
a black armband- he’s come directly from his son’s funeral).
HALLER (without much force)
We’ll catch him.
ANDY
You couldn’t catch a cold.
HALLER looks at him for a moment, then turns to look at the
crowd. They look rather like a lynch mob; on their faces we
see an uneasy mix of shame and eager determination. HALLER
speaks with a kind of haggard, fading desperation.
HALLER
The law has a name for what you men are
planning. It’s private justice, and private
justice is about a step and a half away
from lynch mobs and hang ropes. I’m no
J. Edgar Hoover, but I am the law in Tarker’s
Mills, and I want you men to go home.
They shuffle their feet uneasily; many look down. He is
getting to them.
ANDY
Don’t let this guy scare you! What’s he done
since this thing started but hang his face out?
It’s not working. Many of the men look disgusted with both
ANDY and themselves.
ANDY (louder)
He ain’t got so much as a fingerprint!
OWEN KNOPFLER
Ah, shut up, Andy.
ANDY
Don’t tell me to-
HERB KINCAID steps forward.
HERB
Yes. Correct. Shut up.
ANDY, surprised and bewildered, does. HERB turns and looks
grimly at JOE HALLER, who can barely meet his gaze.
HERB (quietly)
I just came from my boy’s funeral.
HALLER
Herb...I know how upset- how grief-stricken
you must be...but-
HERB (quietly)
He was torn apart.
Utter silence in OWEN’S place now. The others are staring,
rapt.
HALLER
Yes. Yes, but-
HERB (still quiet)
Upset, you say. Grief-stricken, you say.
Constable, you don’t know what those words
mean. My son was torn to pieces. To pieces!
HERB turns to the others in the pub. Tears stream down his
face.
HERB
My son was torn to pieces!
(turning back to HALLER)
You come in here and talk to these men
about private justice. You dare to do that.
Constable Haller, why don’t you go out to
Harmony Hill and dig up what’s left of Brady
and explain to him about private justice.
Would you want to do that?
HALLER makes no reply. He looks down at his feet.
HERB
No. I thought not.
(to the others)
You folks stay here if you want. I wouldn’t
ask anyone to do anything that runs counter
to his conscience. As for me... I’m going out
and hunt up a little private justice.
ANDY FAIRTON has swelled up again. He grins poisonously at
the slumped HALLER. He pushes off after HERB KINCAID. Other
men start to follow.
EXT. OWEN’S PUB
Men are streaming out, getting into station wagons and
pickup trucks. Engines roar into life. They begin backing
out even as more men come out of the pub. We even hear some
high-spirited yells; they are on their way and their blood
is up.
INT. OWEN’S PUB
LESTER LOWE, looking more distressed than ever, pushes his
way through the men toward the door, and THE CAMERA FOLLOWS.
He grabs BILLY McCLAREN.
LOWE
Billy... Billy, this is a bad idea. Joe can...
BILLY (not looking at LOWE)
Joe’s had his chance, Father. Leave me be.
He pushes outside. LOWE looks around wildly; his face says
he can’t believe this is happening. He grabs PORTER
ZINNEMAN, then, as PORTER shoves by him, at a couple of
others with mounting desperation.
HALLER makes his way to LOWE through the thinning crowd and
draws him aside.
HALLER
Let them go.
LOWE
But-
HALLER
This is that spirit of community you were
talking about. Grand, ain’t it? Maybe they’ll
shoot a hitchhiker or something and Andy can
mount the head and raffle it off. To benefit
the Medcu van, of course.
HALLER laughs.
LOWE
But can’t we do anything?
OWEN KNOPFLER hurries past them; he has a rifle over one
shoulder in a sling. In his left hand he carries the
peacemaker bat.
HALLER
Sure. We can pray to Christ that none of them
get killed.
EXT. OUTSIDE OWEN’S
More cars and trucks pull away. There’s a big old Ford
"woody" wagon still there, with ANDY FAIRTON standing
impatiently by the driver’s side door. BILLY McCLAREN and
BOBBY ROBERTSON are with him, and a big, solid-looking woman
named MAGGIE ANDREWS.
OWEN comes out and crosses to the woody.
ANDY
Well, it’s about frigging time! They’ll
have his hide tacked to somebody’s barn
door before we get out there!
They pile into the car, ANDY behind the wheel. He throws it
into gear and backs out onto Main Street.
EXT. MAIN STREET, A NEW ANGLE
We see a parade of cars and pickup trucks headed out of
town.
EXT. FATHER LESTER LOWE
He’s standing on the curb and watching them leave town in
procession, some honking their horns, others yelling
cheerfully. The expression on his face is dark and brooding.
EXT. THE FULL MOON, CU NIGHT
EXT. ELMER AND PORTER ZINNEMAN NIGHT
ELMER is lying on his belly, stuck halfway under a
barbed-wire fence. The seat of his pants is badly snagged.
The brothers are on the verge of a wooded area. We can see
ground mist creeping around the bottoms of the trees.
ELMER
Help me Porter, goddammit!
PORTER grabs ELMER’S right arm and pulls. There’s a RIPPING
SOUND. ELMER screams.
ELMER
Don’t pull me! You want to rip the right
cheek of my ass right off?
PORTER
Well, Elmer, there are folks that’d say
you’ve been half-assed most of your-
ELMER
Are you going to unhook me or be a wise guy?
PORTER begins to pick the barbed wire out of ELMER’S pants.
EXT. IN THE WOODS, WITH REV. O’BANION AND VIRGIL CUTTS
NIGHT
O’BANION looks rather amusing in his hunting gear- like that
priest from "The Exorcist" on safari.
SOUND: A HOWL, FAIRLY LOUD
VIRGIL
Jesus, that was close. Uh, pardon me, Rev’runt.
O’BANION
Come on. Be careful.
They move slowly ahead, O’BANION still a bit in the lead.
THE CAMERA FOLLOWS as the reverend pushes into some
knee-high brush.
SOUND: A RUSTY METALLIC CLANG, followed by a FLESHY CHOMP.
O’BANION begins to scream and struggle.
VIRGIL
Rev’runt! What is it?
O’BANION (screaming)
My foot! My foot!
VIRGIL lunges to him and looks down.
EXT. O’BANION’S FOOT, VIRGIL’S POV
A medium-sized trap- something in which one might reasonably
catch a wild cat or a coydog, let us say- has its rusty
teeth sunk deeply into the reverend’s ankle.
EXT. O’BANION AND VIRGIL
O’BANION (SCREAMING)
Get it off me! Get it off me!
VIRGIL (flustered)
Sure...okay...
He kneels down.
EXT. VIRGIL
He muscles the trap open, a little at a time.
EXT. O’BANION
Relaxing.
SOUND: THE WOLF HOWLING CLOSE.
EXT. VIRGIL
Startled and unnerved by the HOWL, the trap slips out of his
hands and snaps shut on O’BANION’S mangled ankle again.
EXT. REVEREND O’BANION
He screams.
EXT. THE MOON, CU
It slides behind a cloud.
SOUND: THE WOLF HOWLING.
EXT. ANDY FAIRTON’S GROUP
ANDY, BILLY McCLAREN, BOBBY ROBERTSON, OWEN KNOPFLER, and
MAGGIE ANDREWS have been joined by two other men- MR.
ASPINALL and EDGAR ROUNDS.
They have drawn close together, listening as the HOWL FADES.
We can tell by their uneasy faces that some of the joy has
gone out of the evening.
They are standing on one side of a ravine. The bottom is
filled with a still ground mist. A few bushes poke out of
it. There are woods on the far side.
ANDY (pointing across)
It came from over there.
BOBBY ROBERTSON
As far as I could tell, it could have come
from anywhere.
ANDY
We’ll spread out in a skirmish line. If the
bastard tries to go around us, we’ll hear him.
BOBBY
I dunno-
MAGGIE
I think Bobby Robertson here’s making lemonade
in his pants. That lemonade got ice cubes in
it, Bobby?
ANDY FAIRTON and EDGAR ROUNDS laugh. ASPINALL and BILLY
McCLAREN smile a little.
OWEN (quietly)
Let off him, Maggie. I’m scared, too.
BOBBY (stoutly)
I ain’t scared! Let’s go!
ANDY
Okay. Spread out on me. Five feet apart.
EXT. ANDY’S GROUP, FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE RAVINE
Reading from right to left: OWEN KNOPFLER (his gun is still
over his shoulder; it is the peacemaker baseball bat he is
holding), BOBBY ROBERTSON, ASPINALL, ANDY FAIRTON, BILLY
McCLAREN, EDGAR ROUNDS and MAGGIE ANDREWS.
They come slowly down toward THE CAMERA, alert and ready for
anything- at least, they think so.
EXT. ANDY’S GROUP, ANGLE SHOT
They reach the bottom of the ravine and begin to make their
way across it. The mist is waist to chest deep. They push
toward the other side. Now they are about halfway.
SOUND: A STEADY, LOW GROWLING, CLOSE.
They all stop, scared.
BILLY McCLAREN
Where’s it coming from? Other side?
BOBBY
No- it’s behind us. I told you you couldn’t
trust-
ASPINALL
It isn’t on either side.
ANDY
What are you-
ASPINALL is looking around, his eyes widening with fear.
ASPINALL
It’s under the fog. It’s right in with us.
The GROWLING STOPS. There’s a beat of silence. Then:
SOUND: SNARLING...AND A RIPPING CHOMP as dinner is served.
SOUND: A SCREAM.
EXT. EDGAR ROUNDS, CLOSE
He’s the one screaming, and if he reminds us of O’BANION,
that’s okay, because ROUNDS has also been caught in a trap.
He tries to run, stumbles, falls into the ground fog. He
goes on screaming. We can see his back for a moment, and
then it disappears.
SOUNDS OF CRUNCHING AND SCREAMING.
ROUNDS SHRIEKS. His hand and arm come up like the hand of a
drowning man. Then it’s gone. ROUNDS is gone.
EXT. THE SKIRMISH LINE
They stand there, chest deep in mist, a conspicuous hole in
the ranks where EDGAR was.
EXT. BOBBY ROBERTSON, CU
BOBBY (moaning)
I can’t move. Christ Jesus, I can’t move!
EXT. THE SKIRMISH LINE IN THE RAVINE, A NEW ANGLE
The GROWLING STARTS AGAIN. THE CAMERA PANS SLOWLY UP THE
LINE. The mist swirls, hiding whatever’s beneath.
EXT. ASPINALL, CU
ASPINALL (low)
I think we better start backing up, Andy.
Real slow. Real-
The LOW GROWL rises to a snarl. And from below the mist,
snarling and bestial but understandable, mocking ASPINALL’S
voice:
WEREWOLF (voice)
"Real slow! Real slow! Real slow!"
SOUND: CHOMP!
ASPINALL SHRIEKS and tries to run. He falls into the mist.
There is another CHOMP. When he flounders up, half his face
is gone.
WEREWOLF (voice)
"Real slow! Real slow!"
A hairy arm rises from the mist and yanks ASPINALL down.
EXT. ANDY’S GROUP
They panic and break for it- MAGGIE, BILLY, and ANDY for one
side, BOBBY and OWEN for the other.
EXT. OWEN, WEREWOLF’S POV
THE CAMERA IS RUSHING THROUGH THE GROUND MIST- this is like
being in an airplane that’s skimming the top of a cloud.
WEREWOLF (voice; laughing)
"Real slow! Real slow! Real slow!"
EXT. OWEN KNOPFLER
He’s hit, as an unlucky swimmer might be hit by a shark. He
whirls around, raising the peacemaker bat.
OWEN
Come on, then! You want to rock and roll
with me?
EXT. THE GROUND MIST, OWEN’S POV
For a moment there’s nothing- and then the werewolf rises
out of it, eyes glaring green, muzzle and pelt slimed with
gore.
WEREWOLF
"REEEEEL SLOW!"
EXT. MAGGIE AND ANDY
MAGGIE (shrieking)
Look at it! Holy God, Andy, look at that thing!
ANDY (groaning with fear)
I don’t want to look at it.
He runs, while MAGGIE stares, mesmerized, at:
EXT. OWEN AND THE WEREWOLF
The WEREWOLF closes in on OWEN, who belts it a good one with
the peacemaker. The WEREWOLF swipes at him. OWEN ducks and
slams it again. The WEREWOLF roars with anger.
OWEN
Come on, come on! You want to do the bop?
I’ll bop you, motherfucker! Come on!
The WEREWOLF dives under the ground mist.
Uncertain, OWEN begins to back up, holding the bat in his
hands. OWEN is jerked down into the mist. He SCREAMS. The
peacemaker rises out of the ground mist and comes down.
Bonk! The WEREWOLF roars in pain. CHOMPING SOUND. OWEN
shrieks.
OWEN (voice)
Come on, you bastard!
The peacemaker rises out of the mist again. The hands
holding it are bloody. Blood runs down the bat. It descends.
Bonk! The WEREWOLF roars again. There is a GURGLING SCREAM
from OWEN... and then a curious SPLINTERING SOUND as the
WEREWOLF sinks its fangs into the bat.
EXT. THE RAVINE
THE CAMERA MOVES ABOVE as the WEREWOLF moves below, escaping
down the draw.
Pause. SOUND, IN THE B.G.- low but slowly getting louder: a
congregation singing "Bringing In the Sheaves" to the
accompaniment of a pipe organ.
WEREWOLF (sing-songy voice)
Bringing in the sheaves... bringing in the
sheaves... we shall come rejoicing... bringing
in the sheaves...
THE WEREWOLF FADES OUT; human voices singing the same hymn
overwhelm it and we
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. HOLY FAMILY CATHOLIC CHURCH, PULPIT POV MORNING
It’s an almost exact reprise of #167. Most of the mourners
are crying; MRS. BOWIE playing the organ; MARTY’S chair
parked at the back. We can see UNCLE AL, MARTY, TAMMY, and
MRS. STURMFULLER, exactly as they were at BRADY KINCAID’S
funeral; in fact, this seems to be an instant reply of that
event. One difference: we can’t see BRADY’S coffin. It’s
below us. The hymn ends.
INT. FATHER LOWE, IN THE PULPIT
LOWE
Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid have asked that there
be no mass said here this afternoon. They
did ask me to say a word of comfort to you
if I could.
INT. THE CONGREGATION, FEATURING HERB KINCAID
He sits in the first pew. In his grief he looks dead.
HERB
There is no comfort, Father. Only private
justice.
INT. LOWE, AT THE PULPIT
He’s thrown off his stride. Beginning to sweat. He’s like an
actor trying to remember his lines.
LOWE
Uh, if there’s any word of comfort I can
give you, it’s just this: the face of the
beast always becomes known; the time-
He looks down. His eyes widen in fear.
INT. THE COFFINS, LOWE’S POV
Yes, that’s coffins- plural. Where BRADY’S coffin was
formerly, there are now six coffins, smothered with flowers.
INT. LOWE, IN THE PULPIT
He is badly scared now; sweat is dripping off him.
LOWE
The time... the time of the beast always
passes. There are answers... ways... ways
to... to cope... if we turn to each other...
HERB (bestial voice)
Father-
LOWE looks toward:
INT. FIRST ROW PEW, WITH HERB KINCAID, LOWE’S POV
He’s looking down at something in his hands. Now he looks up
and we see his face has become bestial. His eyes are green.
As we look at him, the transformation cotinues. He’s turning
into a werewolf.
HERB (snarling)
It tore out his heart.
And sure enough, HERB KINCAID holds BRADY’S dripping heart
up in what were hands but which are now rapidly becoming
paws.
INT. LESTER LOWE, AT THE PULPIT
He staggers back, in terror.
LOWE (shrieks)
No!
INT. THE CONGREGATION, LOWE’S POV
MRS. BOWIE begins bringing in a few more sheaves on the
church organ, and the congregation begins to sing.
CONGREGATION
Sowing in the morning/sowing seeds of
kindness/sowing in the noontide/and the
dewy eve...
We pan their faces, stopping on JOE HALLER. Now something is
happening to JOE’S face. It is bulging, changing. He looks
up from his hymnal and his eyes glare green. The pupils are
split. He grins, showing big teeth.
They are all changing. Among the things we see are:
PETE SYLVESTER, who is a church deacon, rushing down the
aisle, changing, snarling. He grabs ANDY FAIRTON and the two
of them grapple in the aisle.
A YOUNG WOMAN with a baby in her arms turns back the blanket
covering the baby’s face and we see it’s a wolfling; already
the YOUNG WOMAN’S own hands are turning into claws.
TAMMY STURMFULLER changing; PELTZER the druggist changing;
the ZINNEMAN BROTHERS changing.
At the organ, MRS. BOWIE is now a werewolf clad in tatters
of a silk bombazine dress; she/it is still wearing a veiled
hat on her head, and she is beating the shit out of the
organ keys with her clawed hands. She sounds like Jerry Lee
Lewis after swallowing about a dozen bennies. And now the
tune changes from the remnants of "Bringing In The Sheaves."
It changes into the Rheingold jingle.
CONGREGATION (snarling chorus)
My beer is Rheingold the dry beer...
Think of Rheingold whenever you buy beer...
INT. LOWE
FATHER LOWE goes stumbling backward, dropping his hymnal.
The man is in an extremity of terror.
REV. LOWE
No! No! No!
INT. THE CONGREGATION, LOWE’S POV
Some are tearing their hymnals apart and throwing them at
each other. One guy- BILLY McCLAREN, maybe- wings one of
them through a stained-glass window. Some of the werewolves-
for they are all werewolves now- fight or make love in the
aisles. The rest sway back and forth, grinning ferociously,
singing.
CONGREGATION (snarling it out)
It’s not bitter, not sweet, it’s a real
frosty treat...
INT. LOWE
He looks toward:
INT. THE MRS. BOWIE WEREWOLF, AT THE ORGAN
She grins ferociously up at him, playing the Rheingold
jingle on the pipe organ with her claws. Now blood begins to
bubble up between the keys.
MRS. STURMFULLER AND ALL
Won’t you try, won’t you buy...
INT. THE ENTIRE CONGREGATION
The church is a wild shambles of lurching, fighting, singing
werewolves. It’s like a New Year’s Eve party in hell.
CONGREGATION (big finish)
...Rheiinngold beer!
Suddenly a clawed hand burts up through one of the coffins.
And ANDY FAIRTON, who now looks as wolflike as any of them,
bites the hand’s claw off.
INT. REV. LOWE, ON THE PODIUM
He’s seen all he can stand. He whirls for the back, where
there is a small door. He pulls it open... and a BRADY
KINCAID werewolf, half torn apart but still somehow alive (a
zombie werewolf, if you can dig it- George Romero would like
it, I think) leaps out and seizes LOWE.
BRADY buries his muzzle in LOWE’S NECK.
INT. LESTER LOWE, ECU
He sits up into THE CAMERA and SCREAMS. Sweat is running
down his face. He stares at us for a moment, his eyes buggy
and crazed... and then he closes them. There is an
expression of huge relief on his face as he does so.
LOWE (praying)
Let it end, dear Lord. Let it end. Please
let it end.
EXT. MAIN STREET DAY
An old sedan cruises slowly down the street. ANNE and TAMMY
STURMFULLER are in the front seat. It’s piled high with
possessions and is towing a jackleg trailer with more stuff
in it.
EXT. HALLER AND PETE
HALLER (indifferently)
Anne Sturmfuller and her little girl.
PETE
Yeah... but what are they doing?
HALLER
Putting on my Sherlock Holmes deerstalker
cap, I deduce that they are leaving.
EXT. THE STURMFULLER CAR, THE COPS’ POV DAY
They are headed out of town all right, but the thing which
perhaps strikes us the most forcibly is how empty this place
is now. Main Street looks like a ghost town.
EXT. JOE HALLER AND PETE SYLVESTER, ON THE SIDEWALK
HALLER
She’s not the only one. Lot of people
leaving town. And I guess if we want a
beer, we’ll have to drink it at home.
He nods toward:
EXT. OWEN’S PUB, LONG (PETE AND HALLER’S POV)
A CLOSED sign hangs in the door; above it is a big black
wreath.
EXT. HALLER AND PETE
PETE
Joe, what’s wrong with you? I ain’t
never seen you like this.
HALLER (thoughtful)
I lost my guts.
PETE (startled)
Bullshit.
HALLER
It was the Kincaid boy. I looked at him...
and I felt it happen. It was no big deal.
No worse than pissing down your own leg.
You ever do that? Maybe when you were
real scared?
PETE, distressed, does not respond.
HALLER
One minute I had me some guts- as much as
the next man, anyhow- and then, poof. Gone.
PETE’S looking at him in a kind of terror.
PETE
Joe... you are going to feel better than
this. This... this feeling of yours...
it’s gonna pass...
JOE
Is it?
He walks away, back toward the Municipal Building (the sign
out front reminds folks to SUPPORT THE MEDCU VAN!) while
PETE looks after him, very deeply troubled.
EXT. A FAIRGROUND DAY
It’s deserted. Rides stand still. The midway is deserted.
THE CAMERA PANS slowly to a sign which reads TARKER’S MILLS
FAIRGROUNDS GALA FAIR OCTOBER 1 FIREWORKS AT DUSK 10c ON
EVERY DOLLAR GOES TO THE MEDCU VAN FUND!
A cheerful enough sign, except for the strip of paper glued
diagonally across it: FIREWORKS CANCELED.
MARTY (voice)
It’s not fair.
INT. THE COSLAW FAMILY STATION WAGON DAY
It’s parked across the road from the sign.
JANE (voice)
Look out, world! Marty the Great didn’t
get something he wanted!
They are distributed just as they were when they arrived at
this same fairgrounds earlier. All of them have ice cream
cones; they are coming home from a family outing.
NAN COSLAW
Stop it, Jane.
JANE
Well, I don’t see why everybody just about
breaks down and cries whenever he-
BOB
Stop it, your mother said.
They’ve just paused for a quick look at the sign; now BOB
pulls out onto the road again and heads toward home.
INT. MARTY AND JANE IN THE BACKSEAT
JANE sticks her tongue out at him. MARTY looks away.
EXT. ANGLE ON THE COSLAW GARAGE DAY
UNCLE AL’S sports car is parked in the driveway. We hear the
CLANG of a wrench on the cement inside.
INT. THE GARAGE DAY
UNCLE AL and MARTY are working on the engine of the Silver
Bullet. UNCLE AL has a six-pack of beer that he’s working
through. He and MARTY sit on the floor. As they talk, UNCLE
AL unscrews the last bolt holding the Bullet’s carburetor
and pulls it off.
MARTY
It isn’t enough that the monster killed all
those people- that he killed Brady. Now he’s
got them to cancel the fair.
UNCLE AL
And the fireworks. Hand me that box, Marty.
MARTY hands him a medium-sized carton with the words "Speed
Shop" printed on it.
MARTY
Yeah, okay, the fireworks. Jane thinks that’s
all I’m mad about, but it’s not. Them doing
that is just a... a...
UNCLE AL
It’s just an outward symbol of everything
that’s inwardly wrong in this town. Not
bad, huh? I read Sherwood Anderson in
college. I can jive that shit all day.
MARTY
Well... I like it that you always know how
to say things, Uncle Al.
UNCLE AL
I’ll give you the telephone numbers of my
ex-wives, dear boy- they’ll be interested
to hear that.
MARTY
Don’t call me dear boy.
UNCLE AL
But you are, you know- you are my dear boy.
He gives MARTY a kiss and smiles at him. MARTY smiles back.
UNCLE AL
Look at this.
He pulls out a brand-new carburetor- it’s a chrome-plated
four-barrel.
UNCLE AL (gleeful)
This is gonna turn your wheelchair into
a fucking F-14, Marty-
He looks around quickly, guiltily.
UNCLE AL
Your mom’s not around, is she?
MARTY
She and dad are out back lighting the
barbecue. Jane’s walking around like she’s
King Shit of Turd Mountain. Like always.
UNCLE AL
Uh-huh. Only in her case I guess it would be
Queen Shit of Turd Mountain. Hand me that
adjustable.
MARTY does. UNCLE AL slides the carb onto the gasket and
starts attaching bolts.
UNCLE AL
The guy killed your best friend, drove your
girl out of town, and stole the second-best
holiday in the year. Have I got it right?
MARTY (glum)
You got it right, Uncle Al.
UNCLE AL
Yeah, Winesburg, Ohio, was never like that...
but I got something that just might cheer
you up.
MARTY
What?
UNCLE AL
Wait, dear boy. Just wait. Hand me those pliars.
EXT. UNCLE AL, AT THE SIDE OF THE COSLAW HOUSE DAY
He peeks into the backyard.
EXT. THE BACK YARD, UNCLE AL’S POV
BOB and NAN are fussing over the barbecue. JANE is hitting a
badminton birdie.
EXT. THE ROAD IN FRONT OF COSLAWS’, WITH MARTY
MARTY is sitting in the Silver Bullet.
UNCLE AL comes hurrying back from his look-see.
UNCLE AL
All is cool, Marty-boy. Go for it.
MARTY pushes the starter. The engine starts at once, but the
tone is entirely different. Before, MARTY’S wheelchair was a
poppety-popping pussycat. Now the engine rumbles like a
hood’s street rod idling at a traffic light.
MARTY looks startled.
UNCLE AL (grinning)
Gun it.
MARTY guns it. The engine roars.
UNCLE AL
Jesus! Not too much!
MARTY (awed)
Wow.
UNCLE AL
You got a pilot’s license, Marty?
MARTY
Do I need one?
UNCLE AL
We’re gonna find out. Take it down the
road a ways and back. Be careful.
MARTY puts the Bullet in gear and pulls away.
EXT. MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET
CAMERA TRACKS HIM up the road. He goes slowly at first, but
he lets it out a little after a while. He’s really moving
along- thirty, maybe forty miles an hour. The wind blows the
hair off his forehead. He begins to grin. He’s enjoying
this.
EXT. UNCLE AL, WATCHING
He drinks some beer. He’s grinning, happy for MARTY.
EXT. MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET
He slows down, turns, stops. He revs the engine. VROOM!
VRROOM!
EXT. THE SILVER BULLET’S MOTOR, CU
A lot of changes back here. It looks almost like a motorcyle
engine now. That chromed-silver carb predominates.
SOUND: VAROOOOOOOM!
EXT. MARTY, CU
Grinning. Looking at:
EXT. THE COSLAW HOUSE, MARTY’S POV
It’s about a quarter of a mile away.
EXT. MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET
He winds the engine up and pops the clutch. The Silver
Bullet doesn’t so much accelerate as blast off. It tilts
back on its wheels. MARTY swivels into a position like that
of an astronaut on lift-off. The Silver Bullet looks like a
motorcycle popping a wheelie. MARTY has a great big grin on
his face.
EXT. THE SILVER BULLET, MEDIUM-LONG
Roaring down the highway at fifty or better, blue smoke
jetting from the exhaust. MARTY is plastered back in the
seat with the footrest pointing up at an angle. He’s
laughing like a lunatic.
EXT. UNCLE AL, PEEKING THROUGH HIS FINGERS
UNCLE AL (to himself)
The kid’s dead meat. What have I done?
(shouts)
Put a rock in it, Marty!
EXT. MARTY IN THE BULLET
He uses the hand brakes. SOUND of braking and squealing
rubber.
EXT. MARTY AND UNCLE AL
The Silver Bullet comes to a screeching, sluing stop near
UNCLE AL. Blue smoke drifts up from the wheels. MARTY guns
the engine once and then lets it idle.
UNCLE AL
You gave me a heart attack, Marty. I’m
dying. I hope you’re happy, because you
are looking at a dying man.
MARTY
It really goes fast. Thanks, Uncle Al.
UNCLE AL
It goes fast, all right- and if your mother
finds out just how fast, Marty, I will have
a new job. Singing soprano with the Vienna
Boys’ Choir.
MARTY
I don’t get you.
UNCLE AL
I know you don’t. But I want this to be our
secret. You get that, don’t you?
MARTY
Sure.
UNCLE AL
Good.
EXT. THE NIGHT SKY, WITH THE MOON
The last bit of daylight is just filtering away.
EXT. THE COSLAW BACKYARD
The barbecue is over. BOB and JANE are putting lawn chairs
on the back porch. MARTY, NAN, and UNCLE AL are all in the
f.g.
UNCLE AL
I’ve got to go, Nan- I had a wonderful time.
He kisses her cheek affectionately, and she smiles at him.
NAN
So have I, actually... I wish it could always
be like this.
UNCLE AL
See me around to my car, Marty, and make sure
I stay out of trouble at least that long.
MARTY
Okay.
He and UNCLE AL go around to the driveway. NAN looks at them
with troubled love.
EXT. THE COSLAW DRIVEWAY, WITH MARTY AND UNCLE AL
UNCLE AL
Now I said I had something for you, as
I believe you will recall.
MARTY
Yeah! What is it?
AL unlocks the trunk of his car and brings out a paper
shopping bag. He places the bag in MARTY’S lap. MARTY opens
the bag, but it’s really too dark to see inside. He reaches
in and brings out a handful of assorted fireworks- crackers,
Roman candles, twizzers, smoke bombs, etc.
An expression of sublime delight fills MARTY’S face as he
inventories these goodies.
UNCLE AL
You’re gonna have the Fourth of July in
October, Marty. Just don’t blow your head
off. (Pause) And remember that it isn’t
just the fireworks. It’s because no crazy
shithead should be able to stop the good
guys, if you can dig that.
MARTY (respectfully)
I can dig it- thank you, Uncle Al! Thank you!
UNCLE AL
Stay near the house, for Christ’s sake-
someone’s killing people. I have to be out of
my mind to be doing this, you know.
MARTY
Yeah, I know. It’s great!
UNCLE AL
One of the reasons I love you, Marty, is that
you’re almost as crazy as I am. Please don’t
set off anything that goes bang tonight, okay?
Just bright colors. Can you tell the difference?
MARTY
Yeah... sure.
UNCLE AL
Save this one for last.
He brings out a short rocket with stubby vanes on the end. A
fat fuse sticks out behind the head.
MARTY
What is it?
UNCLE AL
A tracer. You’ll like it.
MARTY
Thanks a million, Uncle Al!
UNCLE AL
You’re welcome a million, Marty. Stick ’em
in the bushes for now.
MARTY motors over to the side of the garage, where there’s a
line of bushes, and conceals the bag in them. UNCLE AL gets
in his car and starts it up. MARTY comes back.
UNCLE AL (grinning)
Have a good time, dear boy! And watch out
for the werewolves!
He leaves. MARTY sits in his wheelchair, waving.
EXT. THE REAR OF THE COSLAW HOUSE NIGHT
There’s a downspout outside one of the upstairs windows. Now
the window goes up and MARTY leans out. He grasps the
downspout and begins working his way down. This should not
be too hard for us to believe; we’ve already seen how strong
MARTY’S arms are.
His legs dangle limply, but he’s doing just fine. When he
reaches the bottom of the drainpipe, they simply crumple
under him and he uses his arms to pull himself over to the
back porch.
MARTY hoists himself over the porch rail. Here, under a
tarp, is the Silver Bullet. MARTY pushes the tarp aside and
gets in. He uses his hands on the wheels to get over the
porch ramp and rolls silently down it. At the bottom he
looks up at:
EXT. AN UPSTAIRS WINDOW, MARTY’S POV NIGHT
Still a light on up there.
EXT. MARTY, IN THE BULLET
MARTY (whispers)
Shit!
Thinks a bit, then starts to hand-roll the Bullet toward:
EXT. THE PATH BETWEEN THE HOUSE AND THE GARAGE
MARTY comes slowly up the path. We hear soft grunts of
exertion; he’s still hand-turning the wheels for the sake of
silence, and it’s hard work. He stops at the line of bushes
and gets the bag of fireworks. He puts it on his lap and
starts moving again.
EXT. THE COSLAW DRIVEWAY, FROM THE ROAD
The driveway has a slight downslant, and MARTY coasts easily
out to the road. He turns right and begins to roll slowly
along the verge of the highway, still using his hands. We
can see that the light is still on upstairs. MARTY turns
back once to verify this himself, then keeps on going. He’s
not going to be deprived of his treat.
EXT. MARTY
He decides he’s far enough away to be safe. He pushes the
starter button. The engine cranks, coughs, and cranks some
more. MARTY frowns, and pulls out a wire- a rudimentary
choke, I suppose. He pushes the starter button again. It
cranks, but doesn’t start.
MARTY pushes in the wire, looking concerned now, and tries
again. This time, after the engine has cranked over a few
times, it starts.
MARTY (softly)
All right!
He puts it in gear and starts off.
EXT. THE ROAD, WITH MARTY, EXTREMELY LONG
What we see is a tiny boy in a tiny wheelchair moving along
a dark, empty ribbon of road under a vast dome of stars.
DISTANT SOUND: The Bullet’s engine.
EXT. A ROADSIDE TURNOUT NIGHT
SOUND: Fast-rushing water.
The turnout is packed dirt. There’s a grove of trees with
picnic tables spotted among them at the back. The sign in
the extreme f.g. reads ROADSIDE REST AREA at the top; AUGER
FALLS in the middle; TOWNSHIP OF TARKER’S MILLS at the
bottom.
SOUND: The Silver Bullet approaching.
MARTY turns in and rolls to the back of the rest area. He
stops by one of the picnic tables and dumps the bag of
fireworks out onto the picnic table and takes his time
selecting the first- he’s like a wine fancier with a whole
cellar of rare bottles to choose from. At last he chooses a
twizzer. He takes matches from the pocket of his pajama top
and lights the fuse.
When it starts to fizz, MARTY tosses it high into the air.
MARTY (soft)
Here’s one for the good guys!
EXT. THE TWIZZER
It flies in an arc over the drop.
EXT. THE TWIZZER, FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE CUT
THE CAMERA TRACKS ITS FALL onto some rocks at the edge of
the waterfall’s catch pool.
SOUND: Growling.
EXT. THE CREEK, WITH THE WEREWOLF
It has been drinking from the creek. It looks more than half
human now- we would be able to recognize it for sure, but
its face is in shadow.
It turns from the creek and gets up on its hind legs.
EXT. THE TWIZZER, ON THE ROCKS
It’s guttering out. A hand-paw touches it and draws back
quickly.
SOUND: Hurt, angry growl.
EXT. MARTY, IN THE REST AREA
He’s getting ready to light one of the fountains. He pauses
and looks toward the cut. He’s heard something- but the
waterfall muffles it. He lights the fountain’s fuse, sets it
on the ground, and rolls the Bullet back a few feet.
The fountain bursts into a shower of light.
MARTY (delighted)
All right!
EXT. THE SLOPE OF THE CUT, MEDIUM LONG
The waterfall is in the b.g.
The WEREWOLF is climbing the rocky slope.
EXT. THE FOUNTAIN, CU
It goes out.
EXT. MARTY
He rolls over to the picnic table and gets a Roman candle.
He plants the stick in the ground and lights the fuse. The
Roman candle shoots into the sky.
EXT. THE ROMAN CANDLE
Bursts into colored light.
EXT. THE WEREWOLF, NEAR THE TOP OF THE CUT, MEDIUM LONG
It GROWLS... and shakes its fists at the fading light in the
sky.
EXT. MARTY
He’s holding another fountain in one hand and his matches in
the other. He’s looking toward the cut and the waterfall.
MARTY
Is someone there?
EXT. THE WEREWOLF, NEAR THE TOP OF THE CUT
It freezes, GROWLING FAINTLY.
EXT. MARTY
With a little shrug, he lights the fuse on the fountain and
sets it on the ground, as before.
EXT. THE BACK OF THE GROVE, AT THE TOP OF THE CUT
Claw-hands settle over the top.
EXT. THE FOUNTAIN, CU
It throws off fiery swirls of sparks, then begins to die
down.
EXT. MARTY
He’s checking out the stuff on the table for his next choice
when he hears a clear SOUND: A SNAPPING, SPLINTERING BRANCH.
EXT. THE GROVE, WITH THE WEREWOLF
It’s run into a low-hanging branch. Instead of pushing it
aside or ducking under it, it simply rips it off the tree.
Although the branch is pretty big, the WEREWOLF does this as
easily as a hungry man might rip a drumstick off a
Thanksgiving turkey. It throws the branch aside and
advances, hunched over on two legs.
EXT. MARTY
MARTY (terrified)
Who’s there?
EXT. THE GROVE AT THE BACK OF THE REST AREA, MARTY’S POV
The grove is a darkened shadowland.
EXT. MARTY
He punches the Bullet’s starter. The motor cranks and
cranks. No go, though. MARTY pulls out the choke wire,
alternating terrified stares at the grove of trees with
terrified stares at his rudimentary dashboard.
EXT. THE GROVE, MARTY’S POV
Here it comes, out of the shadows, closing in.
EXT. MARTY
Working that starter for all it’s worth... but the motor
only cranks. Still no start.
EXT. CLAWED, FURRY FEET
EXT. MARTY
He gives up on the motor. He looks toward the picnic table
where the fireworks are. He grabs up the tracer. He gets the
matches out of the breast pocket of his p.j.’s and promptly
drops them in his lap. He scrabbles for them.
EXT. THE WEREWOLF, MARTY’S POV
We can’t see its face in the dark, but it’s closer... much
closer.
EXT. MARTY
He tries to hold the tracer and strike a match at the same
time.
He can’t; to do that he’d need at least one more hand. He
puts the tube of the tracer between his teeth and tries
again.
EXT. THE MATCHBOOK AND MARTY’S HANDS
He strikes the match... too hard! It bends, the neck broken.
MARTY (voice; moaning)
Oh, please...
EXT. WEREWOLF CLAWS, OPENING AND CLOSING
EXT. MARTY
He is in an extremity of terror.
EXT. THE MATCHBOOK AND MARTY’S HANDS, CU
He pulls a fresh match from the book and strikes it. It
lights.
EXT. THE WEREWOLF
It recoils- we still can’t see its face except for a vague
shadow.
(NOTE: I keep emphasizing the shadowed face, because this is
not a full-moon period. I’ve been going on the assumption
that the guy kind of works his way up to full wolfiness,
toothiness, hairiness, etc., starting with a partial change
at about the second quarter. It’s a process like the tide
coming in. Thus, if we saw MARTY’S attacker clearly at this
point, I think we would recognize him.)
EXT. MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET
He takes the tracer from his mouth and applies the match to
the fuse. It splutters alight.
EXT. MARTY AND THE WEREWOLF, A WIDER SHOT
The WEREWOLF is less than twenty feet away. The tracer
flares alight and shoots out of MARTY’S hand, leaving a
pink-orange trail of smoke behind it. The missile flies at
the WEREWOLF’s head.
EXT. THE WEREWOLF
The tracer strikes it in the face, and we see a flash of
fire. The WEREWOLF screams and blunders away.
EXT. MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET
He punches the starter again. The motor cranks.
EXT. THE MOTOR OF THE SILVER BULLET
The motor coughs and fires; a big blue flame jumps from the
fancy carb... and the engine starts to run.
EXT. THE WEREWOLF
It’s staggering away, ROARING and HOWLING. The tube of the
tracer is sticking out of its face- from its left eye, in
fact- like an Indian’s arrow. The WEREWOLF smashes branches
out of its way.
EXT. MARTY IN THE SILVER BULLET
He wheels the Bullet around and heads for the road, gasping
and weeping with fear.
EXT. THE WEREWOLF, IN THE GROVE
It’s blundering through the trees. It pulls the tube from
its face with an ANIMAL SCREAM and drops it.
EXT. THE TRACER, CU
It lies smoldering on the ground. The end is slick with
blood.
EXT. THE ROAD, WITH MARTY
The Bullet is really wheeling. MARTY is panting, out of
breath, still deeply frightened.
EXT. THE WOODS, WITH THE WEREWOLF
We see it blundering along, holding its face; blood bubbles
through its fingers.
WEREWOLF (snarling voice)
Bastard Marty! Bastard Marty! Kill you!
Reeeal slow!
EXT. COSLAW DRIVEWAY, WITH MARTY
He powers up it, and along the path to the back. Perhaps he
has enough speed to cut the engine and coast.
INT. MARTY’S BEDROOM
His bed is by the window. His hands appear on the
windowsill, and MARTY pulls himself in. He falls over onto
his bed and lies there, spent and exhausted and trembling.
EXT. THE COSLAW HOUSE, VERY EARLY MORNING
SOUND: RINGING TELEPHONE (FILTER)
INT. THE COSLAW LIVING ROOM, WITH MARTY
He’s sitting in the "house" wheelchair in the living room,
holding the phone tensely to his ear as the RINGING SOUND
goes on.
A CLICK as the phone is picked up.
UNCLE AL (muzzy voice)
’Lo? Go away.
MARTY
It’s a werewolf! I saw it! Last night-
INT. UNCLE AL’S BEDROOM
Not a really spiffy place- the decor is Early American
Alcoholic. There’s a mostly unclad lady asleep on one side
of the bed. UNCLE AL is sitting on the other in his
skivvies, phone to his ear. There are a lot of bottles and
heaped ashtrays around, and UNCLE AL has a big old hangover.
UNCLE AL
You dreamed it, Marty.
MARTY (voice)
No! I went out late last night- and-
UNCLE AL
There are no such things as werewolves.
Please, dear boy, have some pity.
He hangs up and falls back into bed.
GIRL (muzzy voice)
Whowuzzit?
UNCLE AL
Obscene phone caller. Go back to sleep.
EXT. THE BACK PORCH, WITH MARTY
He’s sitting on the Silver Bullet, just looking at the yard.
JANE comes out.
JANE
Marty? You okay? You’ve just been sitting
here all morning.
MARTY
Where’s Mom?
JANE
Went shopping. Why?
MARTY
Jane, I have to talk to you.
JANE (mistrustfully)
About what?
MARTY looks at her earnestly.
MARTY
I need you to help me. Uncle Al won’t
believe me, and if you won’t help me, I...
I...
MARTY has to stop. He’s almost crying.
JANE (concerned)
Marty, what is it?
EXT. MAIN STREET, MEDIUM LONG, WITH JANE
JANE is pushing a supermarket shopping cart with a lot of
beer and soda bottles in it. On the side is a sign reading
MEDCU BOTTLE AND CAN DRIVE- plus an outline drawing of the
Medcu unit.
JANE (voice-over)
He told me something that was clearly
unbelievable... and yet, somehow I
believed most of it. And I understood
one thing with total clarity: Marty
himself believed it all.
She turns into a yard and pulls her cart up the walk to the
door. She mounts the steps and rings the bell.
EXT. THE PORCH, WITH JANE, A CLOSER SHOT
A sheer curtain at one side of the door is pulled aside and
a fearful face- that of MRS. THAYER- looks out. Then we hear
bolts being pulled and locks- at least three of them- being
unlocked. The lady is taking no chances.
MRS. THAYER
Jane?
JANE (politely)
I’m collecting returnable bottles and
cans for the Medcu Drive, Missus Thayer-
I just wondered if you had any.
Her husband comes up the hall.
MR. THAYER
Who is it?
MRS. THAYER
Jane Coslaw.
EXT. JANE
What we see mostly are her eyes- bright, inquiring.
JANE
Hi, Mr. Thayer.
INT. LON THAYER, ECU
What we see mostly are his brown eyes.
MR. THAYER
Hello, Jane.
EXT. THE PORCH, WITH JANE AND MRS. THAYER
MRS. THAYER
Bring your cart around to the back, Jane-
we’ll look in the garage.
JANE
Thank you.
She starts down the steps and we
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. JANE, ON MAIN STREET DAY
Amazing how deserted Tarker’s Mills looks. JANE is pushing
her cart. Even more bottles in it now.
JANE (voice-over)
Uncle Al hadn’t believed him, but Uncle Al
was thirty-five that summer and I was
fourteen... at fourteen you can still believe
the unbelievable, although even then that
ability is growing rusty, is preparing to
squeal to a stop.
She is passing the Holy Family rectory. LESTER LOWE is out
front, digging in his flower garden. He is shirtless, back
to JANE and to us; his black shirt with the turned-around
collar hangs informally on a bush.
JANE (calls)
Hi, Father Lowe!
LOWE (without turning)
Top of the morning to you, Jane Coslaw!
JANE
I’m going to bring in a monster load
of bottles in an hour or so!
LOWE (still digging)
That’s great, Jane... I’ll be waiting.
EXT. JANE, FARTHER DOWN MAIN STREET
She stops at Robertson’s Luncheonette, leaves her cart
outside, and goes in. THE CAMERA FLOATS TO THE WINDOW; we
see JANE explaining about the bottle campaign to BOBBY while
a few men seated at the counter listen.
INT. JANE, ECU
Wide eyes, mostly.
INT. BOBBY ROBERTSON, ECU
Mostly eyes.
INT. ROBERTSON’S, FEATURING JANE
As she turns away, her eyes sweep the men at the counter.
INT. THE MEN, JANE’S POV
Some of them- PELTZER, VIRGIL CUTTS- are familiar. Others
are not. THE CAMERA PANS THEIR FACES CLOSELY, FEATURING
THEIR EYES.
EXT. OUTSIDE ROBERTSON’S, WITH JANE
She grabs the handle of the cart again and proceeds down
Main Street. She goes into the barber shop.
JANE (v-o)
Marty had seen where the tracer had
struck home, he said, and I went out
that day doing more than just looking
for returnable cans and bottles- I was
looking for a man- or woman- with only
one eye.
INT. THE BARBER SHOP DAY
As JANE enters, BILLY McCLAREN is giving one man a trim.
Another man is tipped back with his face wrapped in a towel.
Two or three other townies are waiting on tonsorial
beautification, reading magazines. None, of course, has only
one eye. JANE checks them all out carefully.
BILLY
I know what you’re after, Jane, and you’re
out of luck. Little Toby Whittislaw was in
yesterday, and I gave ’em all to him.
JANE
Oh... okay.
But her eyes have fixed on the towel over the face of the
man in the other barber chair. She walks over to him.
INT. JANE AND THE TOWELED MAN, CLOSER ON
JANE
That you, Mr. Fairton?
ANDY FAIRTON (muffled)
No- it’s Ronald McDonald. I came in for | 
