jeans
and leather jacket, still caked with dark blood. The rest of his
skin is pale as a ghost's.
ROD
I'm not gonna hurt you.
He releases her warily. NANCY makes no move to run or scream,
even though several STUDENTS pass on the nearby sidewalk. This
reassures ROD just a little.
ROD
Your old man thinks I did it,
don't he?
NANCY
He doesn't know you.
(eyeing the blood)
Couldn't you change?
ROD
The cops were all over my house.
(shivers)
They'll kill me for sure.
NANCY
Nobody's gonna kill you.
He runs his hands down his face, trying to believe that. The two
study each other.
ROD
I never touched her.
NANCY
You were screaming like crazy.
NANCY says this without accusation, just cool observation.
ROD
Someone else was there.
NANCY
The door was locked from your
side.
ROD grabs her hard. His muscular body tenses.
ROD
Don't look at me like I'm some
kind of fucking fruitcake or
something, I'm warning you.
VOICE (O.S.)
Morning, Mr. Lane.
42. The boy jerks around. NANCY's father, his .38 leveled right at 42.
ROD's belly, eases out of the bushes.
LT THOMPSON
Now just step away from her, son.
Like your ass depended on it.
I'm warning
you.
ROD backs away, looking once at NANCY with a look of terrible
sadness. Then he dives out of the bushes and runs like hell.
THOMPSON snaps his revolver to fire -- but instinctively NANCY
jumps between --
NANCY
No!
THOMPSON jerks his gun into the air, furious.
THOMPSON
Jesus -- are you crazy!?
He plunges past the girl.
42A. EXT. STREET. DAY. 42A.
ROD races like a frightened animal across the lawns -- but is
soon cut off by the PLANECLOTHESMAN NANCY saw watching her before
-- and then TWO UNIFORMED POLICEMAN, who close from another
angle. The chase is short and pitifully off-balance, and ROD is
soon wrestled to the ground. Next moment one of the cops is
holding ROD'S knife into the air for THOMPSON to see. THOMPSON
looks at NANCY, as if to say 'I told you.' Background, ROD'S
SHOUTS can be heard as he's shoved into a SQUAD CAR.
ROD (O.S.)
I didn't do it -- !
(fading)
I didn't kill her, Nancy!
The car's door slams and ROD is gone. NANCY turns to her father,
livid.
NANCY
You used me, daddy!
LT THOMPSON
(exasperated)
What the hell you doing going to
school today, anyway -- your
mother told me you didn't even
sleep last night!
NANCY spins angrily and walks away.
LT THOMPSON
Nancy! Hey!
But she just keeps going.
FADE TO BLACK
43. INT. CLASSROOM. DAY. 43.
FADE UP ON an ENGLISH TEACHER and CLASS, NANCY among the kids,
trying to concentrate.
TEACHER
According to Shakespeare, there
was something operating in Nature,
perhaps inside human nature itself,
that was rotten -- a canker, as
he put it.
The TEACHER'S eyes glance across the room. ANGLE ON NANCY;
yawning but listening.
TEACHER (CONTD)
Of course Hamlet's response to
this, and to his mother's lies,
was to continually probe and
dig -- just like the gravediggers --
always trying to get beneath the
surface. The same was true in a
different way in Julius Caesar.
Jon, go ahead...
She nods to a SURFER who's been waiting uncomfortably in front of
the class. He squints at his book and begins, the recitation a
struggle between baked and salted brain and the poetry of the
Bard.
SURFER
(reading aloud)
Uh, In the most high and palmy
state of Rome...
WISEGUY STUDENT (O.S.)
California's the most high and
palmy state, man.
The SURFER halts with a grin; KIDS snicker.
ENGLISH TEACHER
Can it.
She glares them back into silence. The SURFER starts over, as we
CUT TO NANCY.
She's nodding off now, barely able to keep her eyes open in the
warm, close boredom of the classroom.
SURFER (O.S.)
In the most high and palmy state
of Rome, a little ere the mightiest
Julius fell...
(NANCY's head pitches
forward; she jerks it
back up, barely awake)
The graves stood tenantless, and
the sheeted dead did squeak and
gibber in the Roman street...
44. NANCY's head has sunk again, eyelids drawn as if by enormous 44.
weight. By the time her cheek's against the desk, the SURFER'S
VOICE is ECHOED and DISTANT. But another voice, TINA'S, is very
near, very much present. A sad, thin plaint.
TINA (O.S.)
Nancy.
NANCY gives a start. Her eyes lock onto something.
45. REVERSE. TILTED SIDEWAYS, IN HER HEAD'S POV, we look straight 45.
out through the open doorway of the classroom into the hall.
There, standing in a black pool of fluid, is a full-sized rubber
body bag. Dark red and yellow. Weaving slightly, the merest
suggesting of movement within it.
46. BACK ON NANCY, sitting upright, wiping the sleep from her eyes, 46.
shaking her head like a punchy prozefighter. She looks back out
the door.
47. REVERSE IN 'NORMAL' POV -- the hallway is empty. But there's a 47.
dark smear on its floor tiles.
48. NANCY looks nervously towards the rest of the class. No one else 48.
has noticed a thing outside the door. All are dumbly spellbound
by the SURFER, who now recites like a deep-voiced robot, his face
wreathed by white hair.
SURFER
O God, I could be bounded in a
nutshell and count myself a king
of infinite space, were it not
that I have bad dreams...
49. ANGLE BACK ON NANCY. She slips from her seat, eye warily on the 49.
teacher and class. But no one turns as she disappears through
the doorway.
50. INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY. DAY. 50.
NANCY turns and looks both directions. No sign of anybody.
TINA (O.S.)
(distant)
Nancy.
NANCY wheels and sees the bag, prone on the tiles at the far end
of the hall, at the end of a long snail's trail of slime. A pale
hand thrusts out of it. A moment later, as if pulled by
invisible gravity, the bag slides out of sight into an
intersecting corridor.
NANCY
Tina!
NANCY starts running for it.
51. ANGLE AT THE CORNER as NANCY races blindly around the turn and 51.
smashes straight into a BODY lunging at her from the opposite
direction! Both go down.
52. ANGLE AT THE FLOOR. A dazed freshman HALLGUARD cranks herself up 52.
on
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