Lost Souls (2000)

FADE IN ON:

Black screen

SOUND OS -- a CHOKED BACK BREATH, GASPING, lungs looking for
air, the struggle for life and we --

						FLASHCUT TO:

INT. LIMBO/WATER - ANOTHER TIME

GASPING for BREATH continues, more relentless, harder,
heavier and into the FRAME we SEE fragments, slowed into
special motion, dreamlike, surreal:

Dirty blonde hair lifts and tumbles;

Bubbles POP through the murky water;

A hand and then its attached arm swims, in trouble, trying to
climb;

And then floats as if disembodied, momentary;

The SWIMMER drifts, then a brief effort twisting, signs of
struggle;

A leg pushes off the nothingness, threatened, an impossible
fight;

And the claustrophobic GASP, a last chocked back BREATH as
other sounds begin to bleed in: the CRACKLE of a RADIO, a few
VOICES MURMURING and then more clearly --

			WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
	Jesus, please... Jesus...

The water blurs opaque, into a murky veil of illusion and we

						DISSOLVE TO:

INT. FORD FIESTA - MORNING

The cracked windshield of a blue Ford Fiesta.  The clouded
form of the drowning SWIMMER is replaced by a small plastic
day-glo cross that sways as the Fiesta is lifted up on a tow
truck hoist.  A PARAMEDIC jogs over to the car as

			PARAMEDIC (O.S.)
	Hold it, hold on...

The Fiesta stops its ascent.  The passenger side door opens
and the Paramedic reaches in and snares the bopping cross.

EXT. CITY STREET - MORNING

The Paramedic carries the plastic symbol over to a middle
aged woman who's sitting on a stretcher, wearing a foam neck
brace and looking totally relaxed.  This minor fender-bender
is an ignored sideshow on a quiet commercial street.

As the woman reclaims her crucifix, a lanky MAN strides by,
over-coated against the fall weather.  We FOLLOW the MAN as
he rounds the corner.

EXT. ANOTHER CITY STREET - MORNING

And as he walks on, he gazes out at a small Catholic Church
ahead.

St. Ursula's is a modest seminary sitting adjacent to the
Church.  And just in front, behind a chain link fence, is:

An asphalt playground used by the Church's pre-school
program.  A group of CHILDREN play there in happy confusion,
watched by TWO FEMALE DAY-CARE WORKERS.

EXT. PLAYGROUND - MORNING

One of the day-care workers alternately pushes TWO KIDS on
the swings, using one hand.  In her other hand, she holds a
cigarette.  Her clothes are worn, her sneakers frayed.  A
simple gold cross hangs loosely from her neck.  She's got
ancient holes in her ear lobes from another, earlier time,
but no longer any earrings.  This is MAYA LARKIN.  The kids
she's pushing are singing "Frere Jacques" as they soar up and
down on the swings.

The second day-care worker, more nicely dressed, shoots Maya
disapproving glances as she gives her swinging child modest
pushes.

A Latino BOY walks up to Maya, both his shoes are untied and
his jacket's unzipped.  He points to his feet.

			MAYA
		(with mock severity)
	Look at you.

She moves away from the swings, puts out the cigarette and
stoops down, tying his shoes.  After she finishes, Maya
watches him run back into the throng.  He dashes past the
LANKY MAN, standing just ten feet away.  A powerful figure,
CLAUDE LAREAUX is in his sixties.  A stern, heavy expression
glances his face.
Maya stands back up slowly, looking at him, a more serious
expression on her face now.  She tosses her cigarette as we:

						       SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. RURAL ROAD - MORNING

A non-descript Chrysler New Yorker as it winds its way down a
rural road.

INT. CHRYSLER MOVING - MORNING

The car's driver is a fleshy man in his forties named JOHN
TOWNSEND.  He's anxious, a nail-biter, with the worn hands of
a worker.  Townsend's slightly nerve-wracked, but trying to
settle it all inside.

Maya touches a fore-finger across her upper lip, warm, she
moves forward, covering heat vents with a cupped hand,
uncomfortable, then finally flipping off the heat altogether,
which makes a final WHOOSHING GASP.  She POWERS OPEN the
electronic window, a rough hum as...

CLOSE ON

Lareaux, in the back seat watching her.  Seated next to
Lareaux is a dark haired, kind looking man in his 30's,
JEREMY.

Maya straightens the cuffs of her shirt sleeves - first the
right, then the left.  Then she repeats it all.  Townsend
notes the repetitive movement.

And the RADIO is ON in the B.G.:

			RADIO DJ #1
	So it says here in today's news that
	science is looking for a lost minute of
	daylight.

			RADIO DJ #2
	Yeah, what's that all about?  They have
	satellites now that can read our ATM
	receipts from outer space, but no one
	knows how we lost a minute of sunlight?

			RADIO DJ #1
	When they find that minute...

Townsend FLIPS OFF the radio.  There is an excruciatingly
loud pause as everyone in the car sits quietly.  Then Maya
turns sideways, leaning towards the backseat, and whispers to
Lareaux:

			MAYA
		(muffled by ROAR of passing
		 truck)
	Why are you doing this to me?

			LAREAUX
	I know, Maya, but you'll understand when
	you see this man.  I really need your
	strength.

Maya silently acknowledges his remark.

			LAREAUX (CONT'D)
		(subbed, in French)
	Ensemble pour toujours quio qu'il
	arrive.

Maya reaches over, putting a soft hand on Townsend's knee.

			MAYA
	Good seeing you again.

			TOWNSEND
	Whish the circumstances were different.

As Maya turns back around in her seat, Lareaux looks up, sees
Townsend's dart of worry in the rear view.

EXT. KINGS COUNTY MENTAL HOSPITAL - MORNING

Institutional 50's architecture.  Two-story building on
picturesque grounds.  The Chrysler pulls up to the gate.

INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - MORNING

Lareaux, his overcoat open, walks down the dim corridor.  We
now see he's a priest.  He's wearing a black cassock with a
waist-high surplice (belt) and a narrow purple stole.  He
carries a Bible.  Townsend, Maya and Jeremy are right beside
him.  We see Jeremy is also a priest.  Townsend is carrying a
hard, black leather suitcase.

Large windows, bordered by huge pillars, circumscribe the
never-ending corridors.  Thick doors line the walls, each
with a tiny observation window, filled in with octagonal wire
patterns.  The foursome avoids looking directly at any of
those windows.

They pass other rooms, doors wide open, lined with several
beds each separated by worn curtains.

INT./EXT. SECOND CORRIDOR - MORNING

Sitting next to a door on this corridor is the hospital's
Chief Resident Psychiatrist, DR. LESLIE ALLEN.  She's casual,
calm and intelligent.  A mature woman in her late 50's, still
attractive, at peace with herself.  As she sips a cup of
peppermint tea, she glances outside, through a window
opposite her chair, at a huge old tree, the antithesis of the
sterile, prison-like environment inside.  She finds ways to
remain grounded in this place.

As Lareaux and company approach, Dr. Allen switches her gaze
and --

			LAREAUX
		(hands over a document)
	Your court order, Dr. Allen.

			DR. ALLEN
		(standing, makes transition)
	You know I'm not comfortable with this.

			LAREAUX
	But your patient is legally entitled to
	it.

			DR. ALLEN
	This patient has been plagued with
	temporal lobe seizures.

			LAREAUX
	It's the patient's request, doctor.

			DR. ALLEN
		(insistent)
	I'm aware of that, but I don't think
	he's in any condition to make requests.
	I'm trying to appeal to your
	more...logical self, Father.
		(as she glances briefly at
		 Maya, Townsend and Father
		 Jeremy)
	I'm concerned about harm to my patient.

			LAREAUX
		(picking up the Doc's visual
		 cue)
	Father Jeremy and Deacon John Townsend
	of St. Ursula's, and our associate, Maya
	Larkin.
		(off her look)
	Secular assistants are permitted if
	regarded as qualified.  Maya is
	eminently qualified.

			DR. ALLEN
	I think I should join you.

			MAYA
		(brusquely, interrupting)
	-- you wouldn't last five minutes.

			LAREAUX
		(getting to it)
	Just open the door, please.

As the Doctor unlocks the door, Lareaux, Townsend, Father
Jeremy and Maya file in.  Tense.  Cautious.

INT. PATIENT'S ROOM - MORNING

The room has been painted hot pink.  The only furniture is a
large table, a chair and a bed.  A few books sit stacked on
the table: Albert Beutel's Cryptology, George Fleck's Shaping
Space and Claude Shannon's seminal Mathematical Theory of
Communication, among others on advanced math.

A slightly round man named HENRY BIRDSON is seated in the
single restraining chair, compulsively writing numbers on a
yellow legal pad.  He wears green hospital pants and T-shirt.

He looks up and smiles at all his visitors; a blinding, angry
smile.

			BIRDSON
	How do you like the color in here?
		(glancing over barred windows)
	Spos'ed to be relaxing.

Maya and Townsend avoid looking at Birdson.  Maya straightens
the cuffs of her sleeves.  Lareaux puts his Bible and a small
crucifix on the table.

			LAREAUX
	Hello Henry.  Do you know why we're
	here?

Birdson nods, pleased with himself.  He stretches, languidly
drops his pad onto the table and yawns.

			BIRDSON
	Looking forward to it.  Do you have a
	cigarette?

CLOSE ON

Lareaux

As he catches Maya's gaze and as --

CLOSE ON

Maya, who looks back at Lareaux, we:

					    CROSSCUT TO A SERIES OF
						  FLASHCUTS:

INT. ANOTHER PLACE, ANOTHER TIME

Confined space.  Cheesy lace curtains drape across plexi
sliding windows, a soft and constant WHISPERING of the "Our
Father" in the b.g. and we SEE: a younger Lareaux, longer
hair, moving gracefully toward Maya,

SUBTITLED IN LATIN

			LAREAUX
	Do not remember, O Lord, our sins or
	those of our forefathers.

CLOSE ON

Maya's face.  Wide-eyed at 16 years old.  In the b.g., Maya's
sister, stands rigid, afraid.

			LAREAUX (CONT'D)
	And do not punish us for our offences.

An arm twisting almost out of its socket.  A SCREAM.

			LAREAUX (CONT'D)
	And lead us not into temptation.

SCREAMING CONTINUES.  Maya's on a bed, her head jerks
sideways, involuntarily.

			LAREAUX (CONT'D)
	But deliver us from evil...

A crucifix follows its own shadow as we:

						   CROSSCUT BACK TO:

INT. PATIENT'S ROOM - MORNING

Townsend opens the black leather suitcase.  Inside: rolls of
duct and masking tape, two Bibles, three rosaries, a
scapular, bottles of holy water and a gold Chalice, sitting
in foam-laden velvet, for the Communion Eucharist.

Maya quickly and expertly locks in Birdson's chair
restraints.  Arms and legs.

Father Jeremy pulls out a roll of duct tape, sealing the desk
drawer shut.  Then, he sets up a portable tape recorder on
the table.  Secures that as well.

Birdson restrained, Maya pulls large square-cut pieces of
blackout cloth out of the suitcase.  She grabs a roll of
masking tape, TEARING two pieces of it with her teeth, right
off the roll.  A SEARING, jarring sound, unexpected every
time.  Moving to the door, she immediately tapes a square of
blackout cloth over the observation window.  As the cloth
drops, Dr. Allen's face disappears.

Maya TEARS several more pieces of masking tape, continuing to
block out each window.

INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR

Two hours later, Dr. Allen is reassuring one of her patients.
She's calm, focused, helpful.

			PATIENT
		(pointing to his stomach)
	My bowel is out.  I told you.  It's
	open, can't you see it!  My stomach's
	been eviscerated!

Suddenly an ORDERLY bursts around the corner, sprinting
toward her.

INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR

Dr. Allen and the orderly are jogging down the hallway.  The
sound of SCREAMING can be faintly heard in the distance.

Dr. Allen starts to run, leaving her patient, holding her
stethoscope and pocket for anything that might fall out.  Her
BREATHING is slightly LABORED.  Her patient SCREAMS after
her:

			PATIENT
		(freaked)
	My bowel!!!  My stomach's been
	eviscerated!  And you won't help me!
	HELP ME!!!

INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR

A stunned Laura Allen stands outside Birdson's room as TWO
MORE ORDERLIES frantically try to pry open the door.

			DR. ALLEN
		(an order of meds.)
	Haldol, Cogenten, Atavan 5, 2 and 2 IM.

From the room, a CHORUS of TORMENTED VOICES is heard.  A
hideous CACOPHONY that builds in intensity with each passing
moment, punctuated by sharp explosions of wood and glass.

It sounds like the room is being torn to pieces.  Along with
everyone in it.

Something heavy hits the door on the other side.

Suddenly, the door BURSTS open.  The screaming instantly
stops.

Lareaux's at the door, pushing past the two orderlies and as
he collapses against a wall, Dr. Allen sees he's shaking,
completely devastated.  Father Jeremy hurries after him,
concerned.

			FATHER JEREMY
	Father, are you alright?  Can you get
	up?

Laura Allen walks slowly over to the door.  And bracing
herself, she leans forward and stares inside.

The room is immaculate.  Nothing's damaged, not a stick of
furniture is out of place.  Townsend and Maya slowly back
out, careful not to look at Birdson who sits nonchalantly
still tied to his chair...

			BIRDSON
	He's right here, you know.

Birdson turns and stares at Dr. Allen with a chilling look of
triumph.

			BIRDSON (CONT'D)
		(same languid posture, his own
		 thought process etched in his
		 brain)
	Come on in...

Dr. Allen freezes.  Townsend moves past her.  Maya pulls the
door shut very quickly.  In her hand, she's grabbed Birdson's
legal pad and one of his advanced math books.

EXT. MANHATTAN CRIMINAL COURTHOUSE - MORNING

A restless CROWD clusters outside the entrance of the
Manhattan courthouse, a mixture of press, public and
security.

INT. COURTROOM - MORNING

Inside the packed courtroom, the atmosphere is hushed and
tense.

Up on the witness stand, MR. SILBERMAN, a meek, reluctant
witness, is testifying.  The DEFENSE ATTORNEY is relentless.

The JURY seems pretty intent on the testimony.  They eye:

			DEFENSE ATTORNEY (O.S.)
	Mr. Silberman, you worked with the
	defendant, George Viznick, for two
	years.

The accused, GEORGE VIZNICK.  He's in his early 20's, with
thick, black hair and strong features.  His neatly-pressed
suit and tie cannot disguise the fact he has the feral eyes
of an unrepentant psychopath.

			MR. SILBERMAN (O.S.)
	Yes.

			DEFENSE ATTORNEY (O.S.)
		(pacing in front of witness)
	And how would you describe him?

			MR. SILBERMAN (O.S.)
	Quiet.  Real quiet...

			DEFENSE ATTORNEY (O.S.)
	And on the day of the murders, his state
	of mind?

			MR. SILBERMAN (O.S.)
	Seemed...on edge.

			DEFENSE ATTORNEY (O.S.)
	On the day of the murders
		(dramatic pause)
	what did the defendant request?

			MR. SILBERMAN (O.S.)
	He asked to go home early.  He said he
	was bothered by all the people who kept
	telling him what to do.

			DEFENSE ATTORNEY (O.S.)
		(to the jury)
	Tell the jury how many people work in
	that office with you and Mr. Viznick.

			MR. SILBERMAN (O.S.)
	Just me.

There's a general MURMUR at this disclosure and... In the
first row, wearing his press credentials like all the other
prominent members of the media, sits PETER KELSON.  Peter's
in his early 30's, fit, handsome, well-dressed, even
seductive.  The ubiquitous success story, cynical, edgy and
focused, he's all or nothing.  Peter takes notes in a leather
book, graph paper, his own color-coded system, meticulous
annotation.  He stares intently at the defendant.

INT. MAYA'S ROOM IN THE SEMINARY - DAY

A woman's arm and hand are visible as she writes -

CLOSE ON

piece of notebook paper covered with a nonsensical collection
of vowels and consonants.

We TILT UP to see Maya, who tosses the sheet onto a pile of
rejects.  She takes a sip of coffee.  Stale.  Maya reacts.
Finishes a cigarette.  Puts it out in a plain glass ashtray.
Lying next to her pack of cigarettes, a vintage Zippo,
inscribed, "peace and fuck you."

To Maya's left is Birdson's legal pad.  On it he has written
rows of numbers in neat, precise handwriting.  Maya has drawn
red lines at regular intervals, showing a repeating pattern
of 11 numbers in a row.

In the b.g., her used, always, "ON," 24" TV is airing a
daytime talk show.  Guy describes his girlfriend's affair AD
LIB.  Maya reacts to the insanity of the show.

On the wall above Maya's table that serves as her desk, is a
varied collection of crayoned drawings from the children in
her day-care class, a postcard from Louisiana depicting New
Orleans, a postcard-sized copy of Modigliani portrait of a
woman, and an old photograph of Maya and her sister.

CLOSE ON

The page she just discarded "IF R EQUALS ONE" at the top and
letters of the alphabet matched up with a series of numbers.
Birdson's cryptology book is visible to Maya's right, as she
works off her newest piece of paper, labeled "IF S EQUALS
ONE."  Maya moves to her mini fridge.  Looks inside.  Pulls
out a soda.  Pops the tab.  Spray startles her a moment.
Wipes off her fingers.  SLAMS the door.

						   TIME CUT:

Comparing numbers and letters with a second piece of paper,
Maya notes that the first number, 24, gives her the letter
"P."  The next number, 13, produces an "E."  She writes those
down.  Flicks a long ash into a half-full ashtray.  Gulps
air.

						   TIME CUT:

Maya continues the coded procedure.  The next three numbers
equal a "T," an "E" and an "R."  Finally spelling "Peter."

Maya gets up.  Stretches.  Ashtray getting full.  Taps out a
single cigarette from her shirt pocket.  Lights it.  EXHALES
deeply.  Excited and scared at the same time.

						   TIME CUT:

Maya checks her newest numbers, adding the letter "K."  Tamps
out her cigarette into an ashtray with earlier cigarette
debris.  Small stacks of used up paper.  Maya stares at her
results, exhausted.

INT. HALLWAY/COURTHOUSE - DAY

An explosion of CHATTER as the CROWD empties from the
courtroom.  Many of the MEDIA rush to a press room across the
hall.

As Peter heads that way, we see he enjoys some celebrity
status.  Heads turn and fingers point as he goes by.  Peter
stops a tall, Asian 26 year-old who's striding by with a
thick packet.

This is MICHAEL KIM, Peter's researcher.

			MICHAEL
	Mr. Kelson, here's the stuff you wanted
	on pathological narcissism.

			PETER
	What about that psychic, what's his
	name, Szabo?

			MICHAEL
	He can see you Thursday.

			PETER
		(shaking his hand)
	I think it's gonna be a waste of time.

			MICHAEL
		(trying to reassure his boss)
	The police used him as a witness in this
	case.

			PETER
		(unsmiling, but he likes
		 Michael)
	I'll be at Bedford tonight, if you need
	me.

			MICHAEL
		(big smile)
	Nice suit.

Peter takes off, weaving his way through the crowds.  And as
he enters a MEN'S ROOM:

INT. MEN'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Peter saunters up to a urinal.  A rough looking man in his
late 40's comes out of a stall and approaches Peter.  This is
a tough cop named MIKE SMYTHE.

			SMYTHE
		(smiling, friendly)
	Hey!  Mr. big shot.

			PETER
		(smile emerging)
	Mike.  Oh, the christening.  I meant to
	call...

			SMYTHE
		(releases his hold)
	Yeah, right.  I don't know why I
	bothered inviting you guys.  I knew you
	wouldn't show.

Peter finishes.  Zips up and goes to wash his hands.  Smythe
looks in the mirror, too, noticing a food stain on his shirt.
He dabs at it half-heartedly.

			SMYTHE (CONT'D)
	So, Viznick's got a meet with his lawyer
	in the ayem.

			PETER
		(his interest is piqued)
	Really?  You know, seeing these guys
	away from the court, the facade slips.
	You catch things.

			SMYTHE
	Yeah, yeah.  I've heard it before.  Just
	be sure you spell my name right.  Nine
	o'clock?

Smythe hands Peter a tiny penlight.

			PETER
	What's this?

			SMYTHE
	So you can see where you're going when
	you crawl up his asshole.

Off Peter's smile, we:

INT. TELEVISION STUDIO - AFTERNOON

The typical particle board and wallpaper set that looks
better on the small screen.  Two chairs, one with Peter and
one with the glossy blonde, perfectly styled, TV personality,
SALLY PRESCOTT.

THE FLOOR MANAGER silently finishes the countdown as a make
up man touches up Peter before rushing off the set.

			SALLY
	As a part of today's story on the trial
	of mass murderer George Viznick, we
	welcome Peter Kelson, author of the
	current best-seller, VICIOUS INTENT.
	Thank you for joining us, Peter.

			PETER
	Thanks for having me, Sally.

			SALLY
	Peter, you're now writing a book about
	the Viznick case.  You seem to be making
	a career of studying sensational
	murderers.  I have to ask, how does it
	make you feel when you sit in courtrooms
	day after day, face to face with alleged
	killers?

			PETER
	Well, long-term exposure to things like
	this tends to give you a sort of
	clinical understanding of the subject.
	After awhile, you begin to make friends
	with it, so to speak.

			SALLY
	It's as if you are saying the closer you
	get to evil, the less evil it becomes.

			PETER
	No, the less mystifying.  Good and evil
	are only illusions.  There is no such
	thing as evil with a capital "E."  That
	suggests some third party bad guy
	pulling all the strings.

			SALLY
		(a bit mesmerized)
	You're referring to the defense's
	efforts to prove that George Viznick is
	tormented by "demonic voices?"

			PETER
	There weren't any voices.

			SALLY
	Not even from some mental illness, as
	the prosecution asserts?

			PETER
	As if there's another cause for little
	voices?  No, Sally, Viznick's a
	manipulator, he's clever, he has what I
	call malignant narcissism.

			SALLY
	What do you mean by that?

			PETER
	Well, we all have a degree of
	narcissism, Sally, but a malignant
	narcissist is dangerously self-obsessed.

			SALLY
	Are you saying he's legally sane?

			PETER
	Well, George Viznick is in the grayest
	of gray areas in the sanity spectrum.
	Viznick is not psychotic.
	He's simply unable to submit to any
	higher authority.

			SALLY
	Meaning, Viznick's a man who answers to
	no one.  Not even God.

			PETER
		(steps ahead of her)
	Right.  If you believe in God.  As a
	narcissist, Viznick couldn't blame
	himself for the alleged murders.  He
	created the voices after the fact.  In
	order to avoid the simple truth that
	there is no outside force that guides
	George Viznick and that George Viznick
	needs to pay.

			SALLY
		(personally interested)
	And what about you?  What about Peter
	Kelson?  Where is your moral compass?

Peter is momentarily serious, interior, then the brief slight
smile.

			PETER
	Well, lucky for me, I'm not on trial,
	Sally.  However, I like to think I'm the
	actual needle on the compass.  Morality
	is which way you're facing.  The needle
	always points north.

Sally smiles, a sucker for that sort of crap.


INT. CONTROL BOOTH - CONTINUOUS

The TECHNICAL DIRECTOR leans over to a CAMERAMAN.

			TECH DIRECTOR
	Sally's hot for this guy.

A tall attractive female P.A. overhears.

			P.A.
	He's cute.

INT. TELEVISION STUDIO

			SALLY
		(more taken with him than she
		 thought)
	Peter...Kelson, ah, thank you for
	joining us.

			PETER
	A pleasure, Sally.

			TECH DIRECTOR (O.S.)
	And that's a cut.

Sally leans forward to Peter and proffers a copy of his book.

			SALLY
	Would you sign it for me?

			PETER
		(flashes a killer smile)
	Of course.

EXT. SAINT BENEDICTUS/MANHATTAN - AFTERNOON

A Range Rover double parks in front of an immense Catholic
Church.  Peter gets out.

Across the street, a group of Orthodox Jews walk by.  On the
steps of the church is an exotic woman, stylish in a yellow
Prada dress with a matching yellow nylon zip jacket.  CLAIRE
VAN OWEN hugs the collar to her neck against a sudden winter
guest.  She's a magazine stylist and Peter's girlfriend.  As
Peter meets Claire on the street, he grabs hold of her,
relaxed.  He kisses her deeply.  Claire still reacts, though
it's been a year.

			CLAIRE
		(obviously in love)
	I missed you.

			PETER
		(seeing it)
	Do you think they have a room here?

She smiles at the possibility.

			CLAIRE
	How'd your interview go?  I'm sure you
	charmed the hell out of Sally.

			PETER
	She's a talk show host.  They can't be
	charmed.  By definition.

Claire slides an arm through Peter's.  Then, she reaches up,
suddenly kissing him hard on the mouth.

INT. SAINT BENEDICTUS - AFTERNOON

Peter and Claire walk down the center aisle, dwarfed by the
vast vaulted ceiling and rosette stations of the cross.  At
the Travertine and Terrazzo altar, there's a solemn
atmosphere.  Choir practice is just about to end and the
SINGERS are CHANTING A-CAPELLA in Latin.

Standing before them, keeping time and tone, is FATHER JAMES
MCKENZIE, a good-natured priest in his late fifties.  He sees
Peter and Claire and lets the choir practice wind down.
Singers begin to collect their music as Father James moves
toward his visitors, happy to see them, as always.  He gives
Peter a strong hug.

			FATHER JAMES
	How're you doing?
		(to Claire)
	Looking lovely as always.

			PETER
	You ready?

James turns to the choir.

			FATHER JAMES
	Alright, you shrieking harpies, enough
	of that racket.  Be off with you.

The choir makes their way out in several directions, shaking
their heads at Father James' corny humor.

			FATHER JAMES (CONT'D)
	And if you have to sin tonight, try to
	make it something original.

A GROAN from the group at the bad pun.  Claire and Peter
smile.

						     CUT TO:

INT. VESTRY/SAINT BENEDICTUS - AFTERNOON

Father James carefully and ritualistically removes his
vestments.

INT. RANGE ROVER - AFTERNOON

Peter is driving up the West Side Highway, relaxed, an arm
out the window.  Claire is beside him.

James sits in the back, peaceful, meditative, as the trees
lining the road move by in a sort of blurred landscape.

			FATHER JAMES
	Between your book sales and this TV
	thing, there's going to be no living
	with you.  And let me guess, you boiled
	God down to a conceit.

			PETER
	You know how I feel.  The world is
	random.  The only certainty I believe in
	is death.

			FATHER JAMES
	Given all that's happened, I understand.
	The world is random, but then there's
	faith.  Where are you in death without
	it?

EXT. STREET - CONTINUOUS

Suddenly a car cuts Peter off.  Peter slams on his breaks.
Close call.  Claire's purse falls off her lap.  Lipstick
spills out.  She steadies herself against the dash with a
hand.  James is pressed forward into his seat belt.

			FATHER JAMES
	What a...jerk!

			CLAIRE
	Peter, are you okay?

			PETER
	Fine.

Peter resumes driving, mildly irritated.

			CLAIRE
		(getting back to the
		 conversation)
	It's great of you to let William and
	Susan stay at the house until he gets on
	his feet.

			PETER
		(cutting across the
		 earnestness)
	It's Susan's cooking, Claire.  That's
	why Uncle James lets them stay.

			FATHER JAMES
	Nonsense, it's all of our home.
		(to Claire)
	So how's work treating you?

			CLAIRE
	Frustrating.  Form over content.
	Everything's so retro.

			FATHER JAMES
	Well, if Peter here would hop off his
	laurels long enough to marry you...

At the wheel, Peter gazes straight out at the road.  No
expression.  But he cringes inwardly.

			CLAIRE
		(interrupting for Peter's sake)
	...you wearing a watch, Father?

			FATHER JAMES
	Yes.  It's exactly...

he slides back his sleeve as Clair looks at her watch.

			CLAIRE
	Can you check the century hand for me?
	Mine seems to be ahead.

James LAUGHS.  Peter shakes his head.  The notion of
commitment more private to him that to his more expansive
uncle.  Claire inadvertently glances at Peter, then she looks
out her window, an awkward, inward moment.

INT. MAYA'S ROOM - SEMINARY - AFTERNOON

Maya's TV is on, as usual.  She SNAPS open a bag of edamame
soy nuts, popping them into her mouth, while a lit cigarette
sits in the glass ashtray next to her.  She eats and smokes
alternately.  Feet up, socks on.  Maya's flipping through the
Manhattan white pages, looking for the last time, Kelson.

INT. TELEVISION SCREEN - AFTERNOON

Caption has been flashed onscreen:

PETER KELSON, AUTHOR OF VICIOUS INTENT.

Sally Price is interviewing Peter Kelson.

INT. MAYA'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Maya glances up and she can't believe what she reads.  Takes
her a moment to pull it all in:

			MAYA
	Oh my God!

INTERCUT WITH TV SCREEN AS NECESSARY.

			PETER
	...as a narcissist, he couldn't blame
	himself.  He created the voices after
	the fact.

Maya shoves a pen between her teeth, while she tears off a
sheet of paper.  She immediately scribbles the name of the
book on the torn piece of paper.

As Maya looks back up at the TV, a dart of interest.

INT. BOOKSTORE - AFTERNOON

A table showcasing the current best-sellers prominently
features Peter's book, VICIOUS INTENT.

Maya reaches in and picks up a copy.  Immediately flips to
the jacket flyleaf at the back.  Reads a moment and as she
dos we see the bio: "born in Bedford, NY, a crime writer
whose own parents were murdered..."

Maya heads to a payphone and dials.

INT. TOWNSEND'S HOUSE - AFTERNOON

INTERCUT

John Townsend sits at his meticulously maintained PIANO,
which is in sharp contrast to the otherwise rundown
surroundings.  The phone rings.

			TOWNSEND
		(picking up)
	Hello?

			MAYA
	I know who he is.

			TOWNSEND
	Maya?  What do you mean?

			MAYA
	I'll explain everything later.  Can you
	meet me tonight?

EXT. BEDFORD HOUSE - DUSK

It's a large house.  Peter pulls up and HONKS.  As he, James
and Claire get out of the car, they walk past an old swing
hanging from an enormous tree.  Childhood remnant.
Expecting them, a man in his late 30's wearing heavy rimmed
GLASSES moves out of the house.  This is WILLIAM, Peter's
brother, followed by his wife, SUSAN.

			WILLIAM
	About time, I'm starving.

He grabs Peter in a bear hug.  Peter looks uncomfortable.
And as he pulls free, he collides inadvertently with a low
hanging tree branch.  As it starts to bleed, Peter sucks on
his lip.  The swing moves slightly in the b.g.

			CLAIRE
	I could use a drink.

			WILLIAM
	I've got martinis on ice and I grabbed
	some good bottles from the cellar.

INT. DINING ROOM - NIGHT

Everyone except Susan troops into the dining room, where an
impressive dinner awaits them.  They take their places behind
their respective chairs.  A routine.  BUZZ of conversation.

			WILLIAM
	Hey, Peter, I missed your show.  How'd
	it go?

			CLAIRE
	Don't worry, we taped it.

			PETER
	I don't think they got my best side.

Susan moves in, carefully balancing a few ceramic platters
and then she bends over the table, squeezing the last plate
onto a huge wooden table already covered with plates of
various food.  Then, she sits down herself.  Takes a little
breath.

			SUSAN
	This is it.  If you need anything else,
	get it yourself.

			WILLIAM
		(mock distress)
	Susan, I don't see any salt.

			SUSAN
	I love you, too.

			CLAIRE
		(to Susan)
	You know, I made a reservation at
	Marco's for Peter's birthday dinner, but
	maybe you should cater it.

			FATHER JAMES
	What time did you make it for?

			CLAIRE
		(to Father James)
	Eight.  That okay?

			WILLIAM
	By the way, I want your advice on what
	to get him.

			PETER
		(immediately to William, kind)
	I don't want you spending any money on
	me.  Not right now.

			FATHER JAMES
		(to Peter)
	Peter, in life, you should never deny
	the giver the pleasure of the gift.
		(amused, to Claire)
	All those years raising him.  They seem
	to have had absolutely no effect.  Now
	William, at least he listened to me.

			WILLIAM
	Let's eat already.

Father James bows his head and immediately, the family
follows.  A signaled, almost unconscious gesture known to
everyone.  They all look down except Peter.  Claire gives him
an annoyed glance.

			FATHER JAMES
	Bless us, oh Lord, for these thy gifts
	through they bounty through Christ our
	Lord.  And a special blessing for Peter
	and William's mother, Andrea, and their
	father, Jack, in whose memory we gather
	here every year.  May their souls and
	the souls of the faithfully departed
	rest in peace.  Amen.

A stark silence as Peter and William remember.  Claire looks
at Susan.  Then:

			PETER
	Hey, Will, remember that dream I used to
	have over and over again when I was
	little, about the bear and the mountain.
	You know, right after...

William nods "yes."

			PETER (CONT'D)
	...well, you know, I really think the
	trial's getting to me, because I've been
	having this weird dream every night.
	Only this time, of course, it's much
	different...

Everyone's looking at Peter.

			CLAIRE
	You never said anything to me...

			PETER
	It's probably trivial.

			JAMES
	Recurring dreams are never
	insignificant.

			PETER
	Okay, I'll tell you.  I'm reading a book
	- I can't remember what the book is when
	I wake up - but I realize halfway
	through it's something I've written.  Or
	will write.  Anyway, I get to the end of
	the book and I'm feeling very satisfied
	and I close the cover to read the title
	and it only says "x-e-s".  Three
	letters.  For some reason, that makes me
	feel great, and I wake up.

			CLAIRE
		(looking around at the silenced
		 table, holding back a smirk, a
		 moment, then)
	Peter, "x-e-s" is "sex" spelled
	backwards.

More silence, then James bursts out LAUGHING.  Then Susan
can't gold it back and then William.

			PETER
		(looks around, big smile
		 turning into LAUGHTER)
	What can I say?  I'm not a master of the
	obvious.

And that sends everyone into an uncontrollable fit of
LAUGHTER and as they're all in various states of choked back
hysterics, suddenly William's LAUGHING becomes seriously
uncontrolled and then:

William's head involuntarily jerks backward, his eyes begin
to roll up.

Susan is first to notice, while LAUGHTER continues in the
b.g. and she leaps to catch him.

As William starts to tip over backward in his chair, Peter
then realizes and together, Susan and Peter ease William onto
the floor and turn him on his side.

James grabs a pillow from an armchair in the room, shoving it
under William's head and...

As William's epileptic attack winds down slightly, Susan
looks up at James:

			SUSAN
	It's been a long time since his last
	seizure.  I guess we've got to adjust
	his medication again.

INT. SEMINARY HALLWAY - NIGHT

The shadowy figures of Maya and John Townsend can be seen
almost in silhouette.

			TOWNSEND
	And what are you thinking we should do
	now?

			MAYA
	I've filed a report with Father Frank.

			TOWNSEND
	A lot of good that'll do.

			MAYA
	We need all the help we can get.

			TOWNSEND
	I've dealt with these people before,
	Maya.  They're not going to help us.

			MAYA
	We'll see Father Frank in the morning.
	There's nothing to be done until then.

			TOWNSEND
		(on edge)
	Alright, Maya.  We'll do it your way.

INT. SEMINARY CHAPEL - NIGHT

A troubled John Townsend prays to God for answers.

INT. SEMINARY OFFICE - EARLY MORNING

FATHER FRANK, a sweet-faced priest in his 40's, is conferring
with two church officials.  We TRACK him as he exits the
office and cross through to:

INT. ALTAR - CONTINUOUS

A JANITOR polishes the marble of the ornate altar.  Father
Frank enters and pauses a moment to watch the man at work.

			FATHER FRANK
	Don't forget to polish the brass
	afterwards.

EXT. SEMINARY GARDEN - CONTINUOUS

The seminary has a small, planted, meditative garden, shoe
horned in behind the rectory buildings.

Maya sits on a simple wooden bench, her tiny cross glinting
off sunlight.  Her eyes are closed and her head is tilted up
toward the sun.

Maya snaps out of her reverie, as Father Frank approaches.

			FATHER FRANK
		(kind, but resolved)
	Maya, the Diocese has rejected your
	report.  And I must say, I agree with
	them.

A JET ROARS overhead, DEAFENING momentary noise.  Father
Frank looks up a moment, then:

			FATHER FRANK (CONT'D)
		(comforting tone)
	I don't mean to belittle you, but we've
	been through this before.  Satan is not
	what you think he is.  Satan is not some
	creature.

			MAYA
	You weren't there.  Give me time to get
	some proof.

			FATHER FRANK
	Please, Maya.  I'm trying to get us into
	the next century and you insist on this
	medieval nonsense.

			MAYA
	If you really believe in God, why is it
	so inconceivable that his enemy is just
	as real?

			FATHER FRANK
	Maya, for the last time, I will not
	tolerate these obsessions.

Anxious, Maya rubs her cross between a thumb and forefinger,
distractedly.

INT. SEMINARY STAIRWELL - EARLY MORNING

Maya crosses through the dim hallway and heads up the stairs.

INT. SEMINARY BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS

A bright, clean bathroom with new fixtures and fluorescent
lights.  Maya comes in, trying to contain her frustration.
Turns the water on.  She watches the water a moment.  Then
puts her hands in.  Cool on her wrists.  Splashes her face.

			MAYA
		(despairing)
	Stupid man.  I can't do this...

At that moment, she hears something.  It's faint, but
unmistakable - the sound of SCRAPING METAL ON METAL.  Then it
stops.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	Hello?

No response.

ANGLE FROM ABOVE:

Maya faces all six stalls.  She walks to the first one,
pushes open the door.  It's empty.  She repeats this at the
second stall, the thirds, the fourth, the fifth.  All are
vacant.  Now the last one.  She pauses just a second.

The lights HUM.  She pushes it open.  It's empty.  Disturbed,
she turns back to the sink and as she looks down, the water
flows instantly backwards, disappearing up into the faucet.

She turns back again, watching the room change from pristine
to rotting decay.  The stalls behind her have changed.  The
doors are closed again.  They're battered, chipped, scarred.
Rusty water flows from underneath.  She whirls around.  On
the stall directly behind her, the letters "X" "E" and "S"
have been scratched into the metal in loose, flowing script.
At the same time, the lights go dim.  The HUM is uneven, more
menacing.  Alarmed, Maya closes her eyes, then opens them.
The vision remains.  Her breathing gets lighter, faster.
Fingers appear on the top of the stall door behind her.  The
door is pulled open.  A man in inside, wearing hospital
clothes.  It's Henry Birdson.  His eyes bore into hers.  He's
got a knife in his right hand.  Petrified, she stares back.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	You're not real.

He leers and nods, "Yes I am."  He steps toward her.  Every
instinct in her body screams at her to run.  But she stays
put.  And we HEAR A CHOKED BACK BREATH and Birdson slowly
extends his knife, just inches from her face.

Closer to her face.  Then closer still.  Until the tip of the
blade is slowly creeping toward Maya's eye.

ECU

of the tip of the blade, literally millimeters from her
pupil.  Closing painfully slow.  Maya braces herself.

ECU

of the tip of the knife now only a hair away.

ANGLE ON

Birdson.  He smiles.  And THRUSTS.  She suddenly reaches up
and grabs for the blade.  The lights "flare" horrifyingly
bright for a split second.  We hear a surreal distortion of
Maya's voice crying out.

And "Birdson" vanishes.  Maya's looking at a pristine
bathroom, its unmarked stall doors pulled tight.  Victorious
but drained, she slumps forward.

INT. LAREAUX'S ROOM - MORNING

Inside Father Lareaux's Spartan room at the seminary, Lareaux
lies in bed, his face turned towards the wall.  He's
MUMBLING.  Maya has pulled herself together and sits by the
bed with Father Jeremy and an irritated Father Frank.
In the b.g., John Townsend is urgently riffling the books and
papers on Lareaux's desk.  Most of which we SEE are about
demonic possession.

Unknown to anyone, Townsend slides two of the books under his
coat.

			FATHER FRANK
		(to Maya)
	Leave him alone.

Maya doesn't want to hear that.  She leans closer.  The full
wound of her childhood pressed back into her eyes.

			MAYA
		(compassionately)
	Father, it's me, Maya.  Tu m'entends?

Lareaux rolls over and looks at her.  The change in his
appearance is shocking.  His eyes are red-rimmed and his
expression is unfocused.

			LAREAUX
		(with a nursery rhyme cadence)
	...the ark sank, the sun set, the ark
	sank again.

			MAYA
	Father, I'm right here.

			LAREAUX
		(like a child)
	...the ark sank, the sun set, the ark
	sank again...

his eyes are wild.  Father Frank turns to Maya.

			FATHER JAMES
	He's not going to respond...

Maya slowly backs away.

			FATHER FRANK
	The doctor's concerned he may never come
	out of this dementia.

			MAYA
	He will.  He has great faith.

			FATHER FRANK
	But bad judgement.  And now you see how
	dangerous the consequences can be.

Maya moves over to a silent John Townsend.

			MAYA
	John.  I've got to head back to the
	city.
		(to Father Jeremy)
	Would you page me if there's any change
	whatsoever?
		(Maya hurriedly writes her
		 pager number down for Jeremy)
	Anything, okay?

			FATHER JEREMY
		(under his breath)
	I wish I could help.

Maya smiles sweetly at Father Jeremy.

INT. SEMINARY HALLWAY - MORNING

Maya and Townsend confer down the hall from Lareaux's room.

			TOWNSEND
	It's useless...look at him.

			MAYA
	You can't back out on me now.  We need
	to be sure.

			TOWNSEND
		(agitated)
	Sure of what?  Who cares if this guy is
	devoid of faith or sleeps over a
	pentacle?  Results are what Lareaux
	would want.

Maya stares intently at Townsend.  Father Jeremy approaches
from down the hall, aware of the tension between them.

			TOWNSEND (CONT'D)
	You don't want to face it.

			MAYA
	Look, John, I'm facing it.

			TOWNSEND
	I'm not waiting until it's too late.

Townsend walks away.

			FATHER FRANK
	Is he going to be okay?

			MAYA
	I hope so.

						       SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. PHONE BOOTH - DAY

CLOSE ON

A list of names, all doctors.  Some have bene crossed off.
And as we PULL BACK, we see Maya's on the phone on a Bedford
main drag and, as she DIALS, she pivots in the booth, anxious
thought process, a pencil being lobbed between two fingers.
Suddenly, a VOICE over the phone.

			MAYA
		(into phone)
	Hi, I'd like to make an appointment for
	Peter Kelson.

As she waits, she pivots back around again.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	no, he's not a new patient.  Okay, thank
	you, bye.

Maya crosses off another doctor's name from her list.  DROPS
in two more quarters, as several sit stacked by the phone.

Maya glances around.  As she checks her list, TAPPING out
another number, she takes a deep BREATH as she sees

A MAN walking his dog.  The dog suddenly stops, squats and
takes a greasy shit right on the sidewalk.  Maya can't
believe it, wants to say something but the line picks up:

			MAYA (CONT'D)
		(refocusing)
	Hi, I'd like to make an appointment for
	Peter Kelson.
		(a beat)
	No, he's a returning patient.  You
	don't.  Thanks anyway.

Crosses off another name.  DROPS in two more quarters.  TAPS
out another number.  Maya bends the silver phone cord
distractedly, back and forth awhile, and as the line picks
back up:

INTERCUT AS NECESSARY

			MAYA (CONT'D)
		(rote)
	Hi, I'd like to make an appointment for
	Peter Kelson.

			RECEPTIONIST
	Kelson, hold on a second...

Maya waits anxiously as

			RECEPTIONIST (CONT'D)
	Okay, Mr. Kelson hasn't been here in
	awhile...

A pause, while Maya listens, then, repeating.

			MAYA
	Tomorrow.  Ten o'clock?  Great.

Maya hangs up, circling a name and address on her list, and
as she takes off as we:

INT. BEDFORD GENERAL PRACTITIONER - DAY

Doctor's Office.  Formica reception desk.  Small waiting
room.  Few PATIENTS sit, reading magazines, waiting for their
doctor.

Maya walks in the door, moving to the rectangular opening at
the check-in desk.

Young receptionist, visibly pregnant, castors around to Maya,
handing her the clipboard, standard procedure.

			MAYA
		(taking it in, but ignoring it)
	I don't know how to begin, by
	boyfriend...
		(looks around, in whisper)
	my ex-boyfriend.  The last time we were
	together, he, shit...

Maya's on the verge of tears.  The receptionist knows what's
coming.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	I took one of those home pregnancy
	tests, but I don't want to tell him.
	I'm RH negative.  My blood type is
	negative...
		(starting to cry)
	If he's RH positive, I'll have to
	terminate.

			RECEPTIONIST
		(handing Maya Kleenex)
	How many weeks are you honey/

			MAYA
	Thirteen.  The last time, can you
	believe it?  This is how he says
	"Goodbye?"

			RECEPTIONIST
		(registers alarm)
	You need his blood-type.  Like right
	away.

			MAYA
		(ready to let receptionist
		 connect the dots)
	Well I know he's come here before.

			RECEPTIONIST
	What's his name?

			MAYA
		(carefully)
	Peter...Peter Kelson.

			RECEPTIONIST
	You just call?

			MAYA
		(sniffling)
	I didn't know what else to do...

A long moment, Maya's anxiety increasing, then:

			RECEPTIONIST
		(castors back to Maya)
	You're in luck.  Says Peter Kelson's
	an... AB negative.

Maya has a moment of confusion as...

			RECEPTIONIST (CONT'D)
	Two negatives always make a positive.

			MAYA
		(overjoyed, huge smile)
	Oh, thank you, thank you so much!

INT. BEDFORD RECTORY - DAY

Maya enters a small reception area.  Behind its counter sits
an elderly DEACON and a SECRETARY.

			SECRETARY
	May I help you?

			MAYA
	Yes, I have some questions regarding the
	baptismal records for one of our new
	constituents.

			SECRETARY
	And the person's name?

			MAYA
	Peter Kelson.

EXT. SOHO STREET - LATE AFTERNOON

We see the normal activity of a Soho street.  The camera
pulls back and into Peter's office where see Peter working at
his computer.

INT. PETER'S OFFICE - LATE AFTERNOON

It's a writer's domain.  Books everywhere.  Stacked and
shelved in an obvious order, by size and subject.  There are
also several silver and leather-framed photos of Peter and
Claire with known literary celebrities.  At the large granite
and birch desk, an exhausted Peter switches off his computer.

			PETER
		(hits INTERCOM)
	Mrs. Quintana, let's go home.

His secretary, MRS. QUINTANA, appears in the doorway.  She's
a strong-willed Latino in her forties.

			MRS. QUINTANA
	I plan to.
		(beat)
	You want a tip?

			PETER
	Lemme guess.  The lottery.

			MRS. QUINTANA
	Sometimes I can just feel the numbers.

			PETER
	You know what they say.  You have the
	same chance of winning whether you play
	or not.

			MRS. QUINTANA
	You watch.  One day, I'll hit the
	jackpot, get the big house, car,
	clothes.  I'll have more money than God.

She smiles and exits.

			MRS. QUINTANA (CONT'D)
		(under her breath)
	Y yo tendre mi propria secretaria.

SNAPPING off the lights in her office.  And in the b.g., the
fragmentary sounds of a party going on somewhere down the
hall, in another office.  A moment, then her outer office
door slams.

Peter goes back to work at his desk.  Finishing up.  Another
moment and he hears Mrs. Q's door PRESS BACK OPEN.

			PETER
		(not looking up)
	What'd you forget?

No response.  Peter looks up.  He waits, then continues to
put his things away in preparation for leaving.  After a
moment, he glances up to see MAYA standing in the doorway.
She's taken pains to look attractive.  Her best clothes.  She
looks great.  A simple beauty.

			PETER (CONT'D)
		(startled)
	May I help you?

			MAYA
	Peter Kelson?

			PETER
		(observes everything about her)
	Yes... and you are?

			MAYA
		(slightly flirtatious,
		 gregarious)
	I saw you on television yesterday.  You
	were brilliant.

			PETER
	Thank you.  Do you work in the building?
	You coming from the party?

Maya takes the chair opposite Peter's desk.  He stands
waiting.  A little put off by her forwardness.

			MAYA
	You said that malignant narcissism was
	not evil.

			PETER
	Not pure evil.  That's correct.

			MAYA
	And also that...

			PETER
		(uncomfortable)
	Listen, I'm sorry, but I'm running late.

			MAYA
	That there is no such thing as evil with
	a capital "E."

			PETER
	Not the most popular opinion, but yes.

			MAYA
	What if I told you I was a malignant
	narcissist?

Intrigued, Peter stops what he's doing and sits down.

			PETER
	A narcissist doesn't admit it.  It's the
	extreme of self-denial.

			MAYA
		(ignoring Peter's comment)
	And I also believe in God and the Devil.
	In fact, I know they exist.

			PETER
	Well, by saying that, you're
	acknowledging the existence of a higher
	power.  Which, to a narcissist, is
	impossible.

			MAYA
	I murdered my parents, Mr. Kelson.  And
	while they deserved it, I still went to
	confession the following Sunday.

Peter leans back in his chair.  Studies her carefully.
Doesn't really know what to say.

			PETER
	Ooooooh-kayyyyyy.

			MAYA
	In the end, the jury saw it my way.

			PETER
	Well, then it all seems to be working
	out for you.  Listen, Ms...?

			MAYA
	Do you remember Henry Birdson?  The math
	professor who won the Salwen Medal, then
	went home and killed his family?

			PETER
		(irritated)
	What's that got to do with you?

			MAYA
	Last week the Catholic Church certified
	him as genuinely possessed.  You realize
	how rarely they make that ruling?

			PETER
	I do.

			MAYA
	An exorcism was just held for Birdson.
	It failed.  Disastrously.  Which means
	there's still a demonic spirit present
	in his body.
		(then)
	I was wondering, perhaps you'd like to
	go meet Henry.  He's pretty amazing.

			PETER
	I'll bet.

			MAYA
	On television, you seemed so sure of
	yourself.  If you're really that
	confident, you'd be willing to let
	someone prove you wrong?

			PETER
	The world would be so much simpler if it
	were all just about good and evil.
	Unfortunately I find it much more
	slippery and elusive place.

			MAYA
		(intrigued by Peter's mind)
	Well, I think it's very simple.  Here's
	a tape of Birdson's exorcism.
		(drops tape on Peter's desk)
	I'll be at the Public Library.  Tomorrow
	at 2... if you want to meet him.

Maya rises and heads for the door.  Seductive.  A certain
power in her clarity.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	I believe that murder and murderers are
	the most interesting proving ground for
	these kinds of questions.  Don't you?

Peter knows he agrees, but before he can respond, she's gone.

						       SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. PETER'S APARTMENT BUILDING - EARLY EVENING

It's a small, elegant building in Chelsea.  Scaffolding
covers exactly half of the exterior.  Building's being
sandblasted.  CONSTANT GRATING NOISE.  Work area's flooded in
artificial spotlight.

INT. LOBBY - CONTINUOUS

Peter walks past the building's doorman, JOSEF.  Eastern
European, mid-60's, formal and outwardly polite.  Josef nods
a professional "good evening" to Peter who acknowledges Josef
as he continues toward the elevator.

			PETER
		(indicating noise)
	Great sound.  How the hell do you live
	with that all day?

Josef laughs politely, he likes Peter.  Peter presses the
elevator button and waits, sticking his free hand in a pocket
and as he pulls out Maya's tape, he remembers as...

The BELL to the elevator DINGS and the door SLIDES open.
Peter inspects the tape with some curiosity, then stuffs it
back into his pocket, momentarily lost in thought.  Stepping
into the elevator, he suddenly PULLS in a breath, startled.

			PETER (CONT'D)
	Mrs. Levotsky, jeez you...

His comment is directed at an impossibly-elderly woman, MRS.
LEVOTSKY.  She scowls as though this was the only expression
her parents could afford for her.  She holds her cane with
her right hand, with her left she tries to balance her
antiquated laundry cart.

			PETER (CONT'D)
	Let me help.

But when Peter reaches for the cart, she waves him off with a
deepening in her scowl that we don't want to see get any
deeper.  The elevator door slides SHUT.

INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

Peter puts the key in his door, apartment 5-A.  Glancing down
the hall, he sees Mrs. Levotsky struggle toward her door.  As
she feels his stare, she turns slowly around and to Peter.

			MRS. LEVOTSKY
	What're you look at?

Pissed off, Peter shoves the key into its lock and goes in.

INT. PETER'S APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

It's dark, except for refracted light from the building
opposite.  Peter FLIPS on the interior lights and we can see
lots of money has been spent here; the interior's warm and
tasteful.  It's eclectic, evolved.  Works of art pepper the
surroundings.  A small, luminous aquarium sits by the entry
wall.

			PETER
		(drops food into aquarium)
	Hi guys.
		(calling)
	Claire?

No answer.

INT. PETER'S KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

Peter heads into the open kitchen.  The flood lights on the
outside cast strange, distorted shadows of people moving.
Peter reaches down behind the refrigerator and fishes out a
pack of cigarettes.  He turns on the vent over the stove and
lights up, blowing the smoke directly up into the vent,
tapping the ashes directly down the sink drain.  Unseen by
Peter, a cigarette ash drops and lands on the stove.

INT. PETER'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Peter reappears a moment later, holding a bottle of beer.
Takes off his jacket, laying it on top of the sofa.  He moves
over to the CD player where he flips on some contemporary
music.  Then he takes a long swallow of beer and sits back
down into the sofa.

			PETER
	Better.

BUMP, BUMP, BUMP.  Peter looks up at the wall, irritated.

			PETER (CONT'D)
	Mrs. Levotsky, we really need to have a
	couple brews and talk one of these days.

Peter takes the remote to the CD, turns up the volume.

CLOSE ON:

The lights on the equalizer.  They go from the middle range
of green and yellow up to the orange and occasionally red,
indicating the volume is pushing "complain."

In response, Mrs. Levotsky BANGS on the wall a little harder.

						DISSOLVE TO:

CLOSE ON

A luminous fly-fishing lure, with a black thread body and
wings of transparent green and yellow fabric.  It's locked in
a tiny vice, its barbed hook shining.

INT. PETER'S LIVING ROOM

Peter, all concentration, is bent over a magnifying glass,
using two tiny precision hooks to wrap thread onto the lure.
He's at a table in the corner of the living room.  A colorful
collection of finished lures are displayed on his work area,
below a watercolor of a man fly-fishing.

Peter gets frustrated as he repeatedly tries to hook a thread
and misses.  In the b.g., a leather framed photo of Peter
with his parents at an exquisite lake.  Peter pushes himself
back from the table.  Takes a beat.  Walks over and picks up
the tape Maya gave him.

He studies it for a second.  Then he naps off the CD player,
puts the tape on the cassette deck and hits "play."  There's
no sound.  He turns the volume way up.  There's a HUM, but
nothing else.  Annoyed, Peter hits "forward," then "play."
Still nothing.  He pushes the volume to the top.

			PETER
		(to himself)
	What'd you expect?

BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM.

						       SMASH CUT TO:

INT. MRS. LEVOTSKY'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

From this P.O.V., the HORRENDOUS ROAR of Birdson's EXORCISM
is heard.  Mrs. Levotsky raises her cane in desperation...

INT. PETER'S LIVING ROOM

From this P.O.V., the tape continues to play soundlessly.

Peter hears rapid POUNDING from Mrs. Levotsky's apartment.
Faster, more frantic.  The pictures on his wall SHAKE
violently.

			PETER
	Oh...come on, lady!  Give me a break!

Mrs. Levotsky's POUNDING continues for some time.  Finally
ending in a booming THUD.  Peter looks up at the wall, waits,
then smiles.

			PETER (CONT'D)
	Little cough syrup will do ya, eh,
	granny?

Peter bends down to snap off the tape, failing to notice that
the lights on the equalizer are PUSHING HIGH into the red on
all channels.  He turns off the tape and puts on a Sonny
Rollins CD.  The music begins at an EAR-PIERCING volume.
Peter scrambles to turn it down, then flops back onto the
sofa.

INT. PETER'S APARTMENT - LATER

The door CLICKS, then opens.  Claire moves in carrying bags
of take-out.  She sees Peter dozing on the couch.

Claire kneels beside him, gives him a kiss and Peter leaps
out of his sleep with a start.

			PETER
	Shi... Sorry, honey.  I was having the
	weirdest dream.

			CLAIRE
	Bad?

			PETER
		(doesn't want to go over it)
	Weird.  The book again.  Sex spelled
	backwards...

			CLAIRE
	I must really be slacking off.  Hungry?

			PETER
	Uh...sure...I...what?

			CLAIRE
	Sushi.

INT. KITCHEN - LATER

Claire is clearing her plate as Peter picks at the remains of
a sushi dinner.  Claire notices the cigarette ash Peter
dropped earlier, picking it up and smearing the ash between
her fingers.  She shoots a glance at Peter, but does not
comment on her discovery.

			CLAIRE
	I can't believe it's already starting to
	get dark so early.

			PETER
	Hmmm.

			CLAIRE
	You know, there was a guy on the radio
	today trying to explain why we're losing
	daylight.  Quarks and dark matter,
	things like that.  Even how daylight
	savings has caught up with us over the
	last hundred years and our universal
	watch is just fast, you know?

Claire looks up, seeing Peter is lost in thought.

			CLAIRE (CONT'D)
	Peter, where are you?

			PETER
	Sorry.  It's just...a strange woman
	waltzes into my office today.  Tells me
	she murdered her parents and can prove
	Satan exists.

			CLAIRE
		(dismissive)
	Did she waltz in or fly on little bat
	wings?

			PETER
		(unacknowledged)
	Says she can get me in to see this
	killer.

			CLAIRE
	Now that you're on TV, you're a magnet
	for all the wackos out there.

Claire sees Peter's thinking about it.

			CLAIRE (CONT'D)
	Oh, Peter, you're going to pursue this.

			PETER
		(sees her concern)
	No.  Of course not.
		(checking out the food)
	Mmmm.  Anago.  My favorite.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY

George Viznick's lawyer is seated at the table.  He's
impatient.  A door opens.  A manacled Viznick is brought in
by two GUARDS.  His orange prison jumpsuit is badly ripped in
back.  A few bruises are visible on his torso.  Viznick
stands impassively as his restraints are unlocked.

			DEFENSE ATTORNEY
	George, come in.
		(sees his client)
	What the hell happened to you?

			VIZNICK
	It's nothing.

			DEFENSE ATTORNEY
	Sure it is.  If the guards did this, we
	can file charges.

			VIZNICK
	Not the guards.
		(smiles)
	Some of the prisoners are easily
	disturbed.

			DEFENSE ATTORNEY
	You have to tell me who did it.

Viznick leans closer to the lawyer.

			VIZNICK
	I can take care of myself.

			DEFENSE ATTORNEY
	I'm gonna go make a stink.  Sit tight.
	I'll make sure you get a change of
	clothes.

The attorney exits.

INT. VIEWING ROOM - DAY

Peter and Smythe enter a small room with a few chairs.  It's
dominated by an oversized, one-way window that allows them to
look onto the adjacent interrogation room.  A speaker system
lets them hear what's going on, but they can't be heard.  A
GUARD enters with a replacement outfit.  Viznick stands
passively as his restraints are unlocked.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY

From this side, the window is a mirror.  In its reflection,
Viznick is seen peeling off his clothes.

INT. VIEWING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

			PETER
	Seems George isn't making too many
	friends in lockup.

			SMYTHE
	Yeah, look at that sweet face.  You'd
	never guess he killed nine people.  I'm
	gonna get my smokes.  Be right back.

			PETER
	You're too old to smoke.  Won't be able
	to shoot hoops with your grandkid.

Smythe gives Peter a dirty look, ignoring the advice, as he
exits.  Peter looks back down at his notes.

			GUARD #1 (O.S.)
	What the fuck's that?!

Peter looks up and sees the shocked Guard staring at
Viznick's bare back.  It's covered by an enormous tattoo
depicting Christ hanging upside down from the bottom of a
cross, pinned there by a nail through his feet.  His dangling
arms end in stumps.  His severed hands are still nailed to
the crossbar.  The effect is horrific yet mesmerizing.  As
Peter watches, Viznick puts on a shirt, covering the tattoo,
and then sits with his back to Peter.  The cops and guard
exit.  Peter moves closer to the glass.

			PETER
		(contemptuous)
	You don't fool me, Georgie.

Viznick's head tilts.  Ever so slowly, he turns around until
his eyes meet Peter's.  He smiles.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM

Viznick's looking at the mirror.  His reflection looks back.

INT. VIEWING ROOM

Peter's thrown.  Is he seeing what he thinks he's seeing?
Spooked, he moves three feet to his right.  Viznick's stare
follows him without hesitation.  Perplexed, Peter moves again
and again, the killer continuing to track him.

			PETER
	What the hell?

Peter looks up as Smythe re-enters the viewing room.  Sees
Peter's fear.

			SMYTHE
	What's the matter with you?

			PETER
	He's looking right at me.

Both men turn to face Viznick, who is now gazing placidly a
few inches to the left.

			PETER (CONT'D)
	He could see me.

			SMYTHE
		(offers Peter a cigarette)
	I'll quit, maybe you should start.

A docile Viznick pivots in his chair and yawns.

			PETER
	Maybe...my imagination.

Peter gives Smythe a short smile.

EXT. CITY STREET

Peter crosses the street from the police station.  He steps
out between two parked cars and immediately into the path of
a speeding van.  Suddenly, a hand reaches out, jerking him
back.  The van ZOOMS by, missing Peter by inches.  He looks
at his savior, it's a CRANKY middle-aged woman.

			CRANKY WOMAN
		(acerbic expression)
	Wake up!

Peter stares at her as she walks by.  She turns, sticks out
her tongue at him.

INT. ELEVATOR - LATER

Peter ascends.  The button for the fifth floor is
illuminated.  The elevator chimes.  He looks up and sees the
elevator stopping on the fourth floor.  He steps back to make
room.  It's Claire.

			CLAIRE
	Hey, what are you doing here in the
	middle of the day?

			PETER
	Forgot my car keys.  What are you doing
	on the fourth floor?

			CLAIRE
	I spaced out.

			PETER
	Well, it's a nice surprise.  Should I
	hit the "stop" button?

He leans in and gives her a sexy kiss.

EXT. NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY - DAY

Maya's waiting.  A group of Japanese TOURISTS including
several women in kimonos, a group of Catholic school GIRLS in
uniform and a mounted POLICEMAN are part of the street scene.
Maya stamps out her cigarette as Peter pulls up.

INT. RANGE ROVER - DAY

As they take off, Peter motions to his cupholder, where two
coffees sit securely.

			MAYA
		(picks up coffee)
	Thanks.  I'm glad you came.  Take the
	Williamsburg Bridge.

As Maya glances over at Peter, she's slightly fascinated.
Peter remains reserved, but polite.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	So...what did you think of the tape.

			PETER
	I think you gave me the wrong one.

			MAYA
		(carefully)
	What do you mean?

			PETER
		(slightly irritated)
	It was blank.  Nothing on it.  You gave
	me the wrong one.

Maya takes a sip of coffee to conceal her shock.

			MAYA
	You're sure?  There was nothing?

			PETER
	I cranked it all the way up.  Nothing
	but hum.

Maya's unnerved.  Peter sees it.

			PETER (CONT'D)
	So what'd I miss?

			MAYA
		(covering well)
	You're right.  I must've made a mistake.

EXT. PARKING LOT

Maya and Peter are walking towards the entrance.  She's
touching the cuffs of her sleeves.

INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR

Peter and Maya turn the corner and approach the door to
Birdson's room.  An ORDERLY is walking with them.

			ORDERLY
	Shouldn't we wait for the doctor?

			MAYA
	I'm sure she won't mind.
		(re: the door)
	It's not locked?

			ORDERLY
	Not necessary...anymore.

INT. BIRDSON'S ROOM - DAY

Maya and Peter enter the room.  Followed by the orderly.  A
motionless Birdson lies on his bed.  Eyes closed.
His body curled backwards at a horribly severe angle and his
arms are wrapped tightly around his torso.  He's a gruesome
sight.  An IV TUBE is taped to his wrist and an EEG is
attached to his head.  The brain wave monitor indicates no
activity.

			PETER
	Jesus.

A beaming Dr. Allen walks in.  She's a little starstruck.

			DR. ALLEN
	Mr. Kelson, what a pleasure to meet you.
	I have to say your instincts about the
	criminally insane are impeccable.  I am
	a fan.

			PETER
	Quite a compliment coming from you,
	doctor.

Dr. Allen realizes Maya's beside him.

			DR. ALLEN
		(to Peter)
	When your secretary called, she made no
	mention of her coming, too.

			PETER
		(glancing at Maya)
	My secretary?

			DR. ALLEN
	You're aware that this woman was party
	to the so-called exorcism.

			PETER
	No, I wasn't, actually.

			DR. ALLEN
	You should know I never felt Mr. Birdson
	needed anything but professional
	psychiatric care.  And then, minutes
	after they left, he suffered a stroke.
	He's comatose.  No brain wave activity
	at all.

Dr. Allen adjusts Birdson's IV unit, re-taping an already
swollen hand.

			PETER
	So you don't believe his condition is
	the result of anything supernatural?

			DR. ALLEN
	Of course not.  They put him through
	severe mental stress.  Causing this
	aneurysm.

			MAYA
	Dr. Allen, could you please tell Mr.
	Kelson what you heard as you tried to
	enter Mr. Birdson's room?

			DR. ALLEN
		(ignoring Maya)
	I certainly hope you're not lending any
	credence to this.

			MAYA
		(aggressive)
	What did you hear?

Peter looks at Dr. Allen questioningly.

			DR. ALLEN
	The patient was in great distress.
	Naturally he was...yelling.

			MAYA
	And was he in distress when you opened
	the door?  Or was he sitting here,
	relaxed, at this table?

			DR. ALLEN
		(calmly)
	There is a medical explanation for
	everything that happened.

			MAYA
		(boring in)
	You heard voices, you know you did.

There's a silence in the room.  Dr. Allen stares at Maya.

			ORDERLY
	It sounded like a hundred people to me.

Maya, Peter and Dr. Allen turn and look at the orderly.
Peter's shocked by the orderly's admission.  Glances back at
Dr. Allen.

			DR. ALLEN
	I've already said, Mr. Birdson was
	agitated.  Victor, why don't you go and
	check on the patient in room 5.

Her tone is frighteningly friendly.  The orderly leaves.
Peter looks at Maya, then Dr. Allen.

			PETER
		(curious)
	Just describe it to me, the scene, when
	you came back.

As Peter speaks, Maya has an uncomfortable feeling.  She
turns and sees Birdson STARING AT HER.  Eyes wide open.
Above him, the monitor's still showing no brain wave
activity.  He grins at her.

			MAYA
	Oh my God!

Peter and Dr. Allen turn quickly - as Birdson snaps his eyes
back shut.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	He just woke up.  He's awake.

What they see is a motionless man in exactly the same
position as before.  The monitor's still showing nothing but
steady, horizontal waves.

Dr. Allen shakes her head at Maya's outburst.  Dismissive of
her altogether and then to Peter.

			DR. ALLEN
	I'm surprised at you, Mr. Kelson.  And
	now I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask
	the two of you to leave.

INT. RANGE ROVER

Peter drives out the hospital gates.  Maya's with him.  The
radio is on.  Peter's angry.

			PETER
	Where do you get off pretending to be my
	secretary?

			MAYA
	I had to.

			PETER
	And this is evil?  The guy had an
	aneurysm and now he's in a coma.

			MAYA
	That's their explanation.  You might not
	believe me...

			PETER
	Well, why should I?
		(beat)
	Alright, what's your name, where do you
	live, when did you kill your parents?

Maya doesn't answer.  Peter stops at a red light.  A pick up
truck full of teenagers with a young girl at the wheel, RADIO
BLASTING SOUL MUSIC, pulls up next to them. Maya uses the
moment to get out and walk quickly away.  Peter watches her
go for a moment, then stares at her paper coffee cup, picks
up his cell and dials a number.

			PETER (CONT'D)
	Detective Smythe?
		(beat)
	Hey, Mike, it's Peter.  Could you pull
	some prints off something for me?

INT. ELEVATOR - NIGHT

Peter rides the elevator in his building.  It stops and he
gets off.

INT. PETER'S APARTMENT - MOMENTS LATER

Peter enters the living room.

			CLAIRE (O.S.)
	In here.

Peter moves into the bathroom.  Claire's sitting in front of
a mirror.  Her hair's up in a smooth twist, and all she's got
on is a bathrobe.  We note a photograph of Peter's mother
sporting a similar hair style on the dresser.

			CLAIRE (CONT'D)
	So, guess which stylist just got this
	month's "Elle" cover?

Peter runs a hand through his hair.

			PETER
		(half-heartedly)
	You're amazing.

Claire smiles, in her own world.

			CLAIRE
	Hurry up, you don't want to be late.

						DISSOLVE TO:

INT. PLUSH HOTEL - NIGHT

A glittering Italianate chandelier.  As we look down we SEE:
Men in black tie and women in high fashion chic form a mosaic
of money and power beneath the chandelier's blazing lights.
A lavish publisher's party is underway in the hotel's
ballroom.  In one corner, a CROWD hovers around Peter and
Claire, the quintessential perfect couple.

She's in a dramatic skintight dress.  He looks great in the
latest tux.  Adrenaline BUZZ of admiration has soothed Peter,
but he's still distracted.  Claire, however, is her outgoing
self.  William in a rented tux and Susan, in a modest gown,
hang on the edge of the golden crowd.  A JADED YOUNG MAN is
leading the conversation.

			YOUNG MAN
	Did you hear how the TIMES zinged Paul
	Guenette's new book?  They said "He
	writes for the ages - between five and
	twelve."

Everyone enjoys that remark.  A gorgeous woman named LAUREN
moves closer to Peter, flirting.

			LAUREN
	I saw you on the news.  But I think
	you're even better live.

			CLAIRE
		(interrupting)
	He is.  By the way, Lauren, did you ever
	finish your book on tattoo art?  I hear
	your publisher wants his advance back.

			LAUREN
		(cold)
	That's not true.

			SECOND YOUNG WOMAN
	I think Rhonda Huston's assistant was
	just made an editor at S&S.

			SECOND YOUNG MAN
	The guy with the weird fingernails?
	Imagine looking over galleys with him.

			YOUNG MAN
	So, Peter, how crowded is the field now?
	There are, what, seven books in the
	offing about the Viznick case?

			PETER
	Yeah, but no one has the access I've
	got.

			LAUREN
	Is it true the cops used a psychic?

			SECOND YOUNG WOMAN
	I saw a psychic once.  Some of these
	guys are definitely for real.

			SECOND YOUNG MAN
	Oh, really?  I dropped $250 on a session
	once and they guy didn't get a thing
	right.

			YOUNG MAN
	And you, Peter?  Where do you stand?

			PETER
	Wherever there's room.

Peter feels a tap on his shoulder.  A WAITER serving hors
d'oeuvres is standing there.

			PETER (CONT'D)
	None for me, thanks.

The waiter wipes the frame and as he does, John Townsend is
revealed, beads of sweat glistening on his brow and a gun in
his hand.

			TOWNSEND
		(whispering)
	God will forgive me, the time of
	transformation is so near.

He points it at Peter's face.  Peter is in shock.  Everything
around him seems to blur, except the gun floating a few feet
away.  But Townsend hesitates, obviously conflicted.

And suddenly, the woman to Peter's left SCREAMS.  The
waiter's tray goes flying.  With astonishing speed, William
flings himself onto Townsend.  They both go down.  A SHOT
RINGS OUT.  Pandemonium.  Screams & shouting.  Peter sees
that William has Townsend in a brutal headlock.  Townsend
looks panicked, helpless.  Peter is pulled back, as the two
men disappear beneath a swarm of other bodies.

INT. BALLROOM - NIGHT

The enormous room is empty.  All the guests are gone.  The
uneaten food and overturned chairs testimony to their hasty
departure.  Peter, Claire, Susan and William are sitting in a
semi-circle.  Smythe walks over.

			PETER
	Thanks for handling this.

			SMYTHE
	Sure thing.  Look, I've got enough,
	between your preliminary statements and
	all the witness accounts.  You can go
	home.
		(to Peter)
	Gimme til morning.  Find out who he is.
	Until then, don't sweat it, huh?  Just
	your random bad cheese trying to hole
	you.

			CLAIRE
	Well said.

			SMYTHE
	Colloquialisms 101.  My only "A" in the
	Academy.

Peter stands and pats Smythe on the back.

			PETER
	Thanks again for everything.

			SMYTHE
	Hey, don't thank me.  Somebody up there
	likes you.

Peter looks at William, then hugs him in a powerful embrace.

			PETER
		(moved)
	Will, this is...

			WILLIAM
	It's okay.

They smile, exhausted.

			SUSAN
	Can we please leave now?

EXT. LOBBY - PETER'S APARTMENT BUILDING - NIGHT

Peter and Claire exit a limo.  The scaffolding is still in
place but the workers are gone.  Josef pushes open the door
for Peter and Claire.

			JOSEF
	Good evening, Mr. Kelson.  Miss Claire.

INT. LOBBY

Peter and Claire enter the lobby.

			JOSEF
		(urgent)
	I want to tell you...your neighbor, Mrs.
	Levotsky, she's dead.

Peter and Claire are both caught off guard.

			CLAIRE
	What?  That's horrible!

			PETER
	What happened?

			JOSEF
		(enjoyably ghoulish)
	Apparently she killed herself sometime
	last night.
		(confidentially)
	The paramedics told me she hung herself.
	Climbed up on her dresser, stocking
	around her neck, but I don't know.  She
	was completely rheumatoid...
		(realizes he's speaking with
		 too much relish)
	It's a shame.  Anyway, though you should
	know.

Peter's stunned and now completely unnerved.

			PETER
	Yeah, I appreciate it.  Thanks, Josef.

			CLAIRE
		(frightened)
	When did they find her?

			JOSEF
	A few hours ago.

Claire's blown away by the night's events.

INT. PETER'S HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

Peter has slowed to look at the yellow police cordon, as
Claire moves on into their apartment.

INT. PETER'S KITCHEN

A bit later, Peter and Claire, both still shaken, sit across
from a relieved Father James, drinking coffee.

			FATHER JAMES
	It's moments like this that make it
	clear.  All that matters is those we
	love are with us.

Peter's touched.  He pats James on the shoulder.

			CLAIRE
	I'm still shaking.

			PETER
	I can't believe Will killed him.

			CLAIRE
	Thank God he did.

Claire stands, exhausted.  She bends down, kissing Peter on
the cheek, only because James is there, and then she gives
Peter a sweet hug.

			CLAIRE (CONT'D)
		(deeply felt)
	I don't know what I'd do without you.

Peter hugs her tightly.  An emotional moment.

			CLAIRE (CONT'D)
	I'm going to bed.  Don't be long.

Claire exits.  James looks at Peter, sees the night's events
have taken their toll.

			FATHER JAMES
	What is it?

			PETER
	Something he said, just before...

			FATHER JAMES
	He spoke to you?

			PETER
	Yeah.  It didn't make any sense.

			FATHER JAMES
	Listen to me, Peter.  You can't let the
	ravings of a madman disturb you, okay?

			PETER
	You're right, but it's funny.  All my
	life I thought I was simply a man who
	didn't believe in any of it.

			FATHER JAMES
	No matter, my son, he believes in you.

			PETER
	But it's true.  I have no faith.  It's
	strange.  When that gun was pointed at
	my face tonight, I was surprised, but
	never frightened.  It was as if I knew
	nothing could possibly happen to me
	and...in that one moment I didn't care
	about anything.  Not eve my own life.

			FATHER JAMES
	Peter.  Your life must matter to you
	because it matters to all of us who love
	you.

			PETER
	You know, I respect that you have such
	faith, James.  I don't understand it,
	but I want you to know that despite our
	differences, I admire you and I always
	will.

Father James stands and claps his hand on Peter's shoulders.

			FATHER JEREMY
	I appreciate your saying that.  I'm
	gonna go now.  I believe you're wanted
	elsewhere.

INT. MAYA'S ROOM - EARLY MORNING

Maya is making coffee in a drip pot on a hot plate.  There is
a soft knock on the door.

			MAYA
	Come in.

Father Jeremy enters and shuts the door behind him.

			FATHER JEREMY
	His faith wavered.  He tried to shoot
	Kelson last night.  I don't know all the
	details.

			MAYA
	Was anyone else hurt?

			FATHER JEREMY
	I don't know.  I don't think so.

A curious conflict of emotions passes across Maya's face -
sadness coupled with relief.  She sits heavily on the bed.

			FATHER JEREMY (CONT'D)
	Be careful, Maya.

EXT. MANHATTAN - MORNING

The hustle and bustle of a typical weekday morning.  As Peter
crosses the street, nearing his office, suddenly a MESSENGER
on a bicycle skids and falls.  The Messenger's on the ground,
crashed, his mail everywhere.  Immediately Peter moves to
help him up, grabbing an arm, trying to collect the spilled
envelopes.  All the morning PEDESTRIANS step over or around
the mess, in typical New York fashion.  The embarrassed
Messenger thanks Peter, AD-LIB, and we...

INT. PETER'S OFFICE

Peter's typing at his computer.  He is surrounded by
newspaper clippings, interview transcripts and other research
relevant to the Viznick trial.  His printer JAMS.  As he
moves to fix it, the intercom blinks.

			PETER
	Yeah.

			MRS. QUINTANA
	It's Detective Smythe.

Peter picks up.

			PETER
	What's up?

			SMYTHE (O.S.)
	How're you doin' today?

			PETER
		(tough)
	It's another day.  I think I'm alright.

			SMYTHE (O.S.)
	You got the right attitude, anyway,
	look, we gotta talk.

EXT. POLICE STATION - DAY

Smythe exits the building just as Peter approaches.

			SMYTHE
	I'm fed up inside, let's walk.

Peter and Smythe take a walk down the street.  Smythe stops a
moment at an outdoor vendor.  Buys a hotdog.

			SMYTHE (CONT'D)
	We traced this guy to a seminary in
	Newark.  If you can believe it, he was a
	deacon.
		(shifting a file under his arm)
	Talked to the man in charge there, a
	Father Frank Page.  He said the gunman,
	John Townsend, was caught up in some
	nonsense about the Devil, along with a
	priest named Lareaux and a woman named
	Maya Larkin - the same woman whose
	prints were on that coffee cup.  Now can
	I please get the fill?

Smythe licks a mouthful of mustard just ready to drip, then
takes a huge bite off his dog.

			PETER
	She came to me with a wild story about
	demonic possession.

			SMYTHE
		(hands Peter Maya's file)
	She's got a juvenile record from New
	Orleans.  Parents died when she was 13.

			PETER
	Parents died?

			SMYTHE
	Yeah, murder-suicide.

			PETER
	What happened?

			SMYTHE
	Mother killed the father, then killed
	herself.  Crime of passion.

			PETER
	She told me she killed them.

			SMYTHE
	Not what the records show.  Anyway, she
	was a runaway, arrests for vandalism,
	petty theft, drugs, the whole bit.
	Parole records show she graduated from
	community college, moved into a retreat
	house, teaches some classes at the
	seminary school, hasn't been in any
	trouble since.

Smythe finishes his hot dog and chucks the wrapper into a
nearby can.

			SMYTHE (CONT'D)
	We hauled her in earlier but didn't have
	anything hard to tie her to Townsend.
	Far as the priest goes, he won't be
	bothering you.  Suffered a complete
	mental breakdown, during - get this -
	during an exorcism.

			PETER
	Where is she now?

			SMYTHE
	Had to let her go.
		(beat)
	I see you thinkin' there, superstar.
	Don't.

EXT. RANGE ROVER - DAY

Peter drives into the Lincoln Tunnel.  Two men stand outside
the entrance, arguing.  As Peter passes, they begin fighting.

			SMYTHE (V.O.)
	I'm sure I don't have to remind you
	she's still a possible accessory to
	attempted murder...

INT. CLASSROOM - DAY

Maya stands before a roomful of children.  She holds an over
sized picture of a hat.

			THE CLASS
	Le Chapeau.

			MAYA
	Tres bien.

			SMYTHE (V.O.)
	...and the obvious, you could get
	another gun in your face.

Next is a picture of a dog.

			THE CLASS
	Le Chien.

			PETER (V.O.)
	Don't worry, I won't go anywhere near
	her.

The door to the hall is abruptly flung open.  Peter strides
in.  Maya sees his anger.

			PETER (CONT'D)
		(harsh)
	We need to talk.

			MAYA
	Peter, please...

Peter's overt belligerence scares the children.

			PETER
	Now!

He motions towards the door.  Maya turns to the class.

			MAYA
	Children, I'll be right back.  Just stay
	in...

Peter grabs her and escorts her to the door.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
		(unconvincing smile)
	...your seats.  Be right back.  Don't
	worry.

And as she's pulled into the hall, we SEE:

INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

Maya, still holding the brightly colored vocabulary pictures,
stands with Peter in the hallway.  Opposite her in the hall,
is a window, and to the left, an old radiator with chipped
enamel paint.  Next to the wall is a plain wooden bench.
Maya stands with her back to her classroom door.  She
continually checks on her kids through a window in the door.

			PETER
		(really pissed off)
	Last night a guy named John Townsend
	tried to shoot me and now I find out you
	knew him.  What the fuck is going on?

			MAYA
	Please, the children.

Peter moves in close, crowding her against the wall.

			PETER
		(lowering his voice)
	Why did he try to kill me?

			MAYA
		(looking at classroom)
	Townsend believed, just as God became
	man in Christ.
		(Maya turns back to Peter)
	So Satan will assume human form.  I
	believe it too.

Peter grabs the pictures out of her hand and pitches them
into the hall.

			PETER
	And the point is?

			MAYA
	At the exorcism, Birdson boasted that
	Satan is about to take over the body of
	a man.
		(long pause)
	You are that man, Peter.

			PETER
	What?!?!

			MAYA
	It's true.  Birdson knew your name, he
	was writing it in numerical code.  It
	wasn't easy but I figured it out.  It
	spelled your name.

			PETER
		(sarcastic)
	Why didn't Birdson just say so?

			MAYA
	If you're possessed, you can't reveal
	anything Satan wants hidden.  Unless you
	trick him.

			PETER
		(now completely unimpressed)
	Trick him.

			MAYA
	The good outwitting the bad.  It's like
	Birdson had a split personality.

			PETER
		(he's had it; laughs)
	You should think about getting
	professional help.

			MAYA
	You're already contaminated.  It's why
	you couldn't hear the tape.  There's
	probably a pentacle near your bed.  To
	sanctify you.

			PETER
	I'm not going to be drawn into this.

			MAYA
	I know this sounds crazy.  I understand.
	Check your parents' blood types.  Are
	you sure your parents are your birth
	parents?

			PETER
	My parents are dead.  Don't even think
	of bringing them into this.

The school bell rings.  Within seconds, the hallway is
flooded with kids and teachers.

A smiling Father Frank stops out of a classroom.  As he sees
Maya and Peter down the hall, his face darkens.  He starts
towards them.

			MAYA
		(moving to Peter; whisper)
	You're about to become the anti-Christ
	who is born unholy and becomes the door
	to eternal suffering in this world.

			PETER
		(pissed off at himself now)
	If you or any of your lunatic friends
	ever come near me again...

Peter notices Father Frank moving up on Maya and takes off.

EXT. STREET - OUTSIDE SEMINARY - DAY

An angry Peter walks to his Range Rover.  The wind is up and
it has started to rain.  Peter's under-dressed, hunching his
shoulders against the elements.  He's parked a distance from
the Seminary.  As he begins a slow jog to his car, the rain
begins to come down a bit harder.  Suddenly, Peter slips on
the wet pavement and falls, scraping his hand.  A moment,
while he gets his bearings and then he picks himself up, the
rain now shooting down the side of his face.

INT. MAYA'S ROOM IN THE SEMINARY - CONTINUOUS

An anxious Maya sits at her desk.  Suddenly, there's a hard
knock on the door and Father Frank enters.  Maya looks up,
unprepared.

			FATHER FRANK
	I've had it.  Townsend's dead.  The
	police are calling and now I see you
	having a scene in front of the children.
	I'm sorry, Maya, you've been with us for
	many years, but effective immediately,
	I'm rescinding your right to live at the
	church.

			MAYA
	Father, I have nowhere else to stay.

			FATHER FRANK
	You have a sister in New Orleans.

Maya looks up at him, but Father Frank's out the door.

INT. FATHER LAREAUX'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Father Lareaux sleeps quietly, quasi fetal.  Maya moves to
the room soundlessly.  A renewed sadness stabs her at the
sight of Lareaux.  She studies him a moment, then cups his
face in her hands.  Slight disturbance in Lareaux's body,
like a child's startle reaction.  Maya lets go and leaves as
quietly as she came.

INT. ITALIAN RESTAURANT - DAY

Upscale.  Claire and Peter at lunch.  Peter is clearly
agitated.  His clothes are still wet and pretty wrinkled.
Claire looks at him with tenderness.

			PETER
	I'm gonna have to get a restraining
	order.  What a nightmare.

			CLAIRE
	I don't know.  In a way, I'm glad it all
	happened.

Peter looks at her skeptically, a little pissed off.

			PETER
	You're glad somebody tried to kill me?

			CLAIRE
		(nervous about confronting him)
	No, of course not, but I think now that
	this has happened, a lot of things can
	start to come out...

			PETER
		(still pissed)
	Yeah, like...

			CLAIRE
		(coming on a little stronger)
	Like you need to admit that losing your
	parents when you were twelve was
	traumatic.

			PETER
		(unafraid)
	It's with me all the time, Claire, I
	just don't like to talk about it.

			CLAIRE
	Well, it shattered your faith in
	everything.

			PETER
		(trying to lighten it)
	I'm just temporarily off my game.

			CLAIRE
		(boring in)
	You need to believe in something besides
	yourself.

			PETER
	I believe in you.

A moment where Claire hesitates, then she decides to let
herself be flattered.

			CLAIRE
		(leaning in, close to Peter)
	I love you.  You look a mess.
	Why don't you go home and clean up
	before you go back to work.

Claire kisses Peter, brief but deep, as she gulps in a short
gust of air.

Outside the rain has stopped as Claire gets up, taking off
for work without him.

EXT. STREET - OUTSIDE SEMINARY - DAY

Maya is sitting on an iron bench outside the playground.  A
shoulder bag with some of her belongings lays beside her.
She stands, picks up her sack and walks across the street to
a small diner.

INT. DINER - DAY

It's warm, crowded and NOISY.  WAITRESSES banter with
longtime customers about the ups and downs of everyday life.
Maya enters in a state of complete distress.  She sits at the
counter next to a MOTHER and her LITTLE GIRL.  Their drinks
and sandwiches are spread out everywhere.  The little girl
cusp her hand around a tall glass of milk.  She wears black
patent shoes, a red jacket, hood attached.  Maya bows her
head and covers her eyes.  She's losing it...

			MAYA
		(whisper)
	I can't do this anymore.

The little girl, about 4 years old, tugs on Maya's sleeve.

			LITTLE GIRL
	You have to put your napkin in your lap.

			MOTHER
		(embarrassed)
	Gina!

Maya looks at the solemn little girl.

			MAYA
		(to her mother)
	It's okay.
		(she puts her napkin in her
		 lap)
	Better?

			MOTHER
	I'm sorry, she's very into rules.

			LITTLE GIRL
	Doesn't your daughter put her napkin in
	her lap?

			MAYA
		(softly)
	I don't have a daughter.  I'm not
	married.

			LITTLE GIRL
	Aren't you lonely?

			MOTHER
	Okay, Gina, that's enough.

Maya sees the little girl wants an answer.  Moved, she bends
close and whispers in her ear.

			MAYA
	I have someone who takes care of me.

She pulls back.  The little girl looks up at Maya
reprovingly.

			LITTLE GIRL
		(cruelly)
	But he's dead.  Jesus is dead.

And then she smiles at Maya, a wicked smile.  Maya looks at
the little girl, and then at her mother.  The mother's eyes
are sparkling with malice.  The room begins to warp and
distort.  And we hear a choked back breath.

Horrified, Maya quickly turns in her chair and faces away
from the vision, praying silently with eyes closed.  After a
moment, she opens her eyes.  The room looks normal again.  In
the reflection of the mirror across the counter she sees that
the two seats next to her are empty, the utensils untouched.
Sighing with relief, she turns back.  But the little girl and
her mother are still there.  The mother's face suddenly looks
elongated, her eyes move too close together and her nose
disappears.  A frightening distortion, but momentary.  And
the little girl's smile widens with spite.

			LITTLE GIRL (CONT'D)
	You're so weak.

With a loud, frightened cry, Maya sweeps her arms out,
knocking all the nearby glasses, utensils and dishes to the
floor with a tremendous crash.  Milk bleeds over the counter.
All eyes turn to her.  Distraught, Maya sees the little girl
and the mother are gone.  She grabs her bag and runs out the
diner.

INT. PETER'S APARTMENT - DAY

It's quiet, shadowy.  The aquarium has begun a slow leak and
a small puddle of water has pooled beneath it.  Peter enters.
He notices the water on the floor.  He goes into the bedroom.

INT. PETER'S BEDROOM - DAY

The ledge of the building across the way can be seen from
Peter's window.  A WOMAN is moving near the ledge, setting
out a grouping of potted geraniums.  From downstairs, a shaft
of light is visible.

Peter changes his clothes  Then, he feels the scrape on his
hand.  Looks at it.  As he moves to the bathroom.  Washes his
hand and as he does so, he checks his reflection in the
mirror.  Stares at himself a moment, then sticks out his
tongue.  Checks it.  And then dries his hand, moving back to
the bedroom, carrying his towel with him.  Peter glances at
his bed a moment.  Half-amused, he leans over and checks
behind the picture hanging above the headboard.

Nothing.

Then, he bends down, checking under the bed.  Again, nothing.

Then, he moves to a bedroom closet, pulling down a black and
gray speckled file box.

Inside, a series of newspaper clippings, graphic photos.
Yellowed with age, on of which falls on the bed, titled,
"Unsolved Brutal Murders."  Peter riffles past the clippings
to the coroner's report.

He speed reads it, until he gets to his parents' blood types:
"Andrea Kelson - A negative."  Jack Kelson - O positive."
Peter stares at the information.  Confused by what it's
supposed to mean.  Then, he pulls on a turtleneck sweater,
ready to go back out.

			PETER
	This is ridiculous.

Peter exits the bedroom and steps back towards the living
room, carrying the towel.

INT. PETER'S LIVING ROOM

Peter passes through to his front door throwing his towel on
the puddle of water.

INT. SECRETARY'S ANTE ROOM - PETER'S OFFICE - DAY

Peter walks in, eyeballing Mrs. Quintana's desk.

			MRS. QUINTANA
	Good of you to stop by.

			PETER
		(breezy)
	We millionaires yet?

INT. PETER'S OFFICE - DAY

Peter enters to find Michael.  Peter sizes up the man who's
casually studying Peter's personal desk photos.

			MICHAEL
	Umm, Melvin Szabo, this is Peter Kelson.
	Peter, this is the psychic.

The stranger looks up.  He's young and cocky, with thick
glasses.  He's holding a picture of Peter with his parents.

			PETER
		(to Melvin)
	I'd appreciate it if you'd put that
	back.

			MELVIN
	You are the younger of two...

He puts down that photo and picks up one of Claire, as Peter
walks over to his chair and a position of more control.

			MELVIN (CONT'D)
		(indicating Claire)
	You're afraid of committing to this
	girl.

Peter grabs one of his pens and begins rolling it between his
fingers.

			MELVIN (CONT'D)
	But she worships you.  Your mother's
	dead but your father's alive.

			PETER
	Nothing you couldn't find out from
	reading the papers.  And you're already
	wrong on one count.

			MELVIN
	Viznick will get off and Michael's got a
	crush on you.

Michael looks alarmed.  Peter notices his pen is leaking all
over his hand.

			PETER
	You know what?  You can go.

			MELVIN
	Suit yourself.  But does this mean
	anything to you?

Melvin picks up a pen and writes "X-E-S" in florid script on
a pad.  He holds it out for Peter's inspection.  Peter is
rattled.

			MELVIN (CONT'D)
	You do know, don't you.  That these are
	also numbers.  Greek numbers, 600, 60
	and 6 - or 666.  The sign of the Devil.

			PETER
	Get out of here.

			MELVIN
		(pleasantly)
	Goodbye.

He sticks out his hand and grabs Peter's.  His expression
changes from one of amused disdain to fascinated curiosity.

			MELVIN (CONT'D)
	Wait a minute...

His arrogance melts away.  Melvin's face tightens.  A shudder
of fear passes through him.

			MELVIN (CONT'D)
		(strangled gasp)
	God will forgive me...the time of
	transformation is so near.

But the voice is that of John Townsend.

			PETER
		(really shaken)
	Get the fuck out of here!

INT. NYC STREET - DAY

HIGH ANGLE ON:

Peter stands in the middle of the sidewalk as the wind
violently whips at his jacket.  He gazes upward to the mute,
gray sky.  Finally he lowers his eyes.  He sees something
that angers him.

EXT. CATHOLIC CHURCH - DAY

A sprawling Catholic church stands before him.  Peter regards
it with wrath.  He pushes open the door and tries to enter,
but a group of LITHUANIAN parishioners pushes past him,
blocking his way. A priest calls a farewell.

			LITHUANIAN PRIEST (O.S.)
		(in Lithuanian)
	See you all next week!

The entry finally clear, Peter goes inside.

INT. CATHOLIC CHURCH - CONTINUOUS

It's dark, forbidding.  The priest exits around a corner.
Peter looks at the vast and spacious altar.  Above it is an
enormous wooden crucifix.  Peter moves down the aisle toward
the altar.

ECU

The sorrowful face of the Christ figure looks down on Peter
with pity.  The body hangs, gaunt, wracked with pain.  The
wrists pierced by nails, the feet cruelly hammered together.

Peter stops at the first pew.  He looks up at the crucifix.
Defiant.

			PETER
	Go ahead, do something.  Show me.

He waits.  For a split-second, there's a pristine silence.
Then the sound of the wind rises in the church.  With that,
the right wrist SHATTERS with a noise like a rifle shot.
Freed from one of its supports, the heavy wooden Christ SLAMS
FORWARD at an awkward angle.  The other wrist SNAPS IN TWO.

For a second, the Christ figure trembles.  Then, with a
sickening sound, the entire wooden body falls forward, swings
sideways and PLUMMETS down.  Peter doesn't want to look.  The
figure is now hanging upside down, held only by the brace at
its feet.  Above it, each hand remains pinned to the cross.
It's an EXACT COPY of Viznick's tattoo.

INT. BIRDSON'S ROOM - DAY

Birdson's eyes open.

EXT. CATHOLIC CHURCH

Peter staggers outside, dodging two DOGS fighting, a vicious
NOISY battle on the Rectory lawn.  And in the b.g., a
homeless man takes a piss into a rivulet of white liquid.
Peter walks in a daze, pulling his car keys from his pocket.

EXT. CITY STREETS - DAY

Peter's car moves through traffic, driving slowly,
erratically.  He scrapes a parked car, but doesn't stop,
Corners poorly, almost hitting a pedestrian.

EXT. STREET OUTSIDE SEMINARY - DAY

Peter pulls up in his Range Rover across the street from the
playground.  He gets out of his car and crosses the street.
As Peter walks closer, he sees Maya.  She's sitting on a
swing, looking off into space, rocking ever-so-slightly back
and forth, a pile of smoked, crushed cigarettes and her
shoulder bag at her feet.

EXT. PLAYGROUND - DAY

Standing beside Maya is an agitated DAY-CARE WORKER.  Their
conversation is FAINTLY AUDIBLE.  Across the yard, a SECOND
DAY-CARE WORKER is shepherding the last of the kids back
inside the center.  The children are carefree and
rambunctious, unaware of the adult drama taking place around
them.

			DAY-CARE WORKER
	Go on, get them inside!
		(sympathetically to Maya)
	Look, you don't have a job here anymore.
	They want you to leave.

CLOSE ON

Maya's face.  She's devastated.  In the b.g., a YOUNG GIRL
does a triple on the roll bar.  Three girls and one boy
compete for distance on the monkey bars.

The Latino Boy and one of his friends LAUGH and break free
from the line heading back to the school.  They circle back
toward Maya and swoop by her, waving exuberantly, then return
to the line and go into the school.  The day-care worker
follows them as:

Peter walks through the gate.  He walks fast toward Maya, who
sees him coming, from a distance.  Maya continues rocking
ever so gently on her swing.  Peter puts out his hands and
stops it.  Stares at her, scared.

			PETER
		(lost)
	I don't understand what's going on.

			MAYA
	There's no reason why you should.
		(tells him as gently as
		 possible)
	This has been planned from your birth.
	You fit all the criteria that we know
	of.  Never baptized, born of incest,
	devoid of faith...

			PETER
	But I was baptized.  And I certainly
	wasn't born of incest.

			MAYA
	You were not baptized.  At least I don't
	believe it was Christian.  Your baptism
	was performed by your uncle, James
	McKenzie.

			PETER
	Yes, I know.

			MAYA
	The only baptism he ever performed in
	seven years as pastor at Bedford.

			PETER
	So what?

			MAYA
	Seven years.  One baptism?  He's your
	mother's only brother

			PETER
	Yes.

Maya stares at Peter.

			MAYA
	Do you know your parents' blood types?

			PETER
	I looked at the coroner's report.  My
	father's O positive and my mother...A
	negative.

			MAYA
		(taking this in a gasp of air)
	Peter, your blood-type is AB negative.
	There's no way your birth father can be
	O positive.  You father is not who you
	think he is.

			PETER
		(really shaken)
	So...then the coroner's report is
	probably wrong.  I mean...this is
	ridiculous.  There's been a mistake.  I
	don't believe any of this.

			MAYA
	Then why are you here?

That silences Peter.  He sits heavily in the swing next to
her.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	Peter, I believe your baptism was
	perverted.  Look at your certificate.
	Your mother was the only witness to it.
	Your blood-type doesn't match who you
	thought your father was.  Peter...I'm
	sorry.

			PETER
		(desperate)
	And if what you're saying is true, what
	would happen to me?

			MAYA
	I don't know.
		(beat)
	I do know that people who are possessed
	have to accept evil in some way.  I
	don't know if it works the same way in
	this instance.  I don't even know when
	it's going to happen.

Peter looks at Maya for solace, but there is none.  He
glances away, runs a hand through his hair and...

			PETER
	When Townsend tried to kill me, he said
	something strange like...
		(struggles to remember)
	"The time of transformation is near..."

			MAYA
		(putting something together)
	Townsend, he had some of Father's books.

EXT. ROUTE 23 - NIGHT

As night falls, the Range Rover moves out of the suburbs and
deeper into the countryside.  There's a bright moon.  The
highway is a ribbon of silver.

EXT. RURAL ROAD- LATER THAT NIGHT

Their car pulls up to a dirt driveway.  Bordered by sagging
fences, the mail box reads "Townsend."  At the end of the
driveway is a two-story, weather-beaten farmhouse with a
garage.  There are no lights on.  Maya says a silent prayer
and steels herself.

EXT. FRONT OF TOWNSEND'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

The ground floor windows are shuttered.  Maya tries the front
door.  It's locked.  Peter walks to the end of the porch,
looking for another entrance.  Maya looks at the door, then
jams her elbow through a small pane of glass next to the
doorknob, breaking it.

			PETER
		(inward smile at Maya)
	Okay.

INT. FRONT HALL - NIGHT

Peter and Maya enter the dark hall.  Peter reaches for a
light switch and flips it on.  They see a hallway in front of
them, stairs to the right and living room off to the left.
For a moment, they stand in silence.  Peter opens a closet
door, glancing inside.

			PETER
	What are you looking for exactly?

			MAYA
	The books themselves or maybe some pages
	he ripped out.

Maya walks into the living room.

INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

The furniture is shabby and worn.  There's a battered sofa, a
new TV and a coffee table.  Maya goes to the table and
quickly looks through a pile of magazines.  Peter enters and
makes a fast tour of the room.  Maya gestures towards the
entrance of an adjacent room.

			MAYA
	In here.

INT. LIBRARY - NIGHT

Maya turns on a standing lamp.  This room looks more
promising.  There's an old piano in one corner.  On one wall
are two bookshelves.  And next to a set of wooden chairs is a
small reading table.  Maya starts scanning the rows of books.
Peter is immediately drawn to the table where he sees new
copies of his books.  Chilled, Peter turns to Maya.

			PETER
	He's got all my books.

Maya looks over at Peter.

			MAYA
	We needed to know all we could.

			PETER
	I'm going to look around.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

Peter crosses the hallway into the dining room.

INT. DINING ROOM

The room's dominated by a long wooden dining table, covered
with a chintz tablecloth.  The window shutters are open and
moonlight streams in.

Peter tries the light switch.  It doesn't work.  He walks
around the room - and is spooked by a glimpse of movement.

It's his own reflection in a mirror.  He sees a closet door
and opens it.  Inside, it's totally dark.  He pulls a hanging
cord.  A light goes on revealing a small pantry filled with
canned goods, foodstuff.

Peter goes to the other side of the pantry and opens another
door.

INT. LIBRARY - NIGHT

Maya continues to comb through the bookshelves.

INT. KITCHEN

Peter steps into a dingy kitchen.  A dirty coffee cup and a
plate sit on the counter near the sink.  At the other end of
the kitchen, past the refrigerator, is a door leading
outside.  Peter approaches the door, glances through the
window.  He then turns and walks through a doorway.

INT. BACK HALLWAY - NIGHT

Peter stands at the base of the rear staircase.  As he starts
to ascend the stairs.

			PETER
		(calling out)
	I'll be upstairs.

INT. LIBRARY

Maya is flipping through Peter's books.  Suddenly, she hears
the tread of footsteps overhead.  It startles her.

			MAYA
		(reassuring herself)
	Peter...

She puts down the book and turns around.  Surveying the room,
she sees an entrance to the hallway that services the master
bedroom.

INT. HALLWAY

Maya walks through the hall towards the open door of the
master bedroom.  She goes in.

INT. MASTER BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

An antique oak bed dominates the room, with two suitcases
lying on top.  The place is a mess - clothes strewn
everywhere.  There's a roll-top desk in the corner with some
books and papers on it.  One of Townsend's jackets is draped
on the desk chair.

On the opposite wall is a door that's open just a crack.  The
interior of a bathroom is visible on the other side.  The
door has a smoky, opaque window built into its top half.

Maya starts sifting through the papers on the desk.  She can
hear Peter's footsteps moving slowly above her.  And the
sound of doors opening.

She opens the desk drawers.  The first one is stuffed with
bills.  The second has checkbooks, bank statements.  The
third is stuck shut.

Maya kneels down to get better leverage.  From this
perspective, we can see the open door to the dark hallway
behind her...She pulls and pulls again.  As the drawer pops
open, a shadow falls across her.  She WHIRLS.

REVERSE

It's Peter.

			PETER
	Not much upstairs  A couple of empty
	bedrooms and a bathroom.  Anything here?

Maya looks at the contents of the drawer.  It's full of
Christian literature.

			MAYA
	Nothing yet.

			PETER
	I'll go outside and take a look in the
	garage.

Maya nods.  Peter exits the room.  She hears his footsteps
fade away and a door slam.  As she stands up, she knocks
Townsend's jacket off the chair.  A book falls out of a
pocket.  It's on of the books Townsend took from Lareaux's
room.  Maya opens it.

ECU

Tiny, cryptic notations are scrawled in the margins.

EXT. TOWNSEND'S HOUSE

Peter walks down the side steps and over to the large garage.

INT. MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

An intrigued Maya turns another page.

INT. GARAGE - NIGHT

Peter enters.  Sees a switch.  Flips it on and a fluorescent
light BUZZES ON.  He peruses old boxes, two dusty, black
filing cabinets.  Ruston curtain rods, a box of broken
appliances and an old stove covered with an orange tarp.

INT. MASTER BEDROOM

As Maya reads, she hears a light, SCRAPING noise.  She
glances up.  Silence.  She waits.  Nervous, Maya then goes
back to her book.  Excited, she spots something that's
important.  She hears another light SOUND.

			MAYA
	Peter?

INT. HALLWAY

Maya listens.  She hears a few footsteps in the adjacent
bathroom.

			MAYA
		(to herself)
	Jesus, Peter, you scared me.

INT. HALLWAY

Book in hand, Maya walks over to the bathroom door and flings
it open.

			MAYA
		(rushes in)
	Look at this...

She steps into the bathroom and freezes.

INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT

Henry Birdson is standing in the corner, same green
regulation drawstring pants and matching T-shirt.  He has a
fish-gutting knife in his hand.  With an evil smile, he
calmly steps forward, imitating the gesture Maya saw in the
restroom at the seminary.  He raises his knife, holding it
out in front of her.  Maya stands still.  She wants to run
more than anything in life, but she doesn't.  Instead, she
reaches out one hand and touches the knife ever so gently
with the tips of her fingers.  Fro a second, neither one
moves.  Maya's face registers great fear.  Birdson slides the
knife back.  Maya sees blood on her hands coming from a cut
on her fingers.  She trembles, but doesn't run.  Maya uses
the humility and calm of an experienced exorcist.

			MAYA
		(a whisper)
	Henry, Christ loves you.

Birdson looks at her with the impassive, malignant gaze of a
snake.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	Christ can save you, Henry.

Birdson shakes his head as Maya's dangling cross picks off
particles of pure light.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	Just say his name, say his name and
	you'll be free.

Birdson, agitated, moves closer.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
		(soothing)
	Say his name.

He slowly traverses the air in front of her face with his
knife.  Maya steps back, trapped, her eyes never leaving
Birdson's.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
		(with love)
	Christ loves you...

For a SPLIT SECOND, the real Henry Birdson appears, then he
smiles grotesquely and in a new VOICE:

			BIRDSON
		(lascivious)
	Yes, but does he swallow?

VERY FAST:

Maya dives out the door.  With a SNARL, Birdson recovers and
lunges for her.

INT. MASTER BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

Maya throws herself back into the bedroom, SLAMMING the door
shut behind her as Birdson's body smashes into it.  Maya sees
Birdson's shadowy form trying to break the glass with an
animal-like fury.  Scrambling against his mounting pressure,
Maya tries but fails to get the lock to close.  The door
SHUDDERS, as Birdson pummels it with his body.  Birdson
CRACKS the glass.  A spiderweb of shards rips through the
window.

			BIRDSON
		(different VOICES)
	Fucking bitch!  Open the door!

Maya drops Lareaux's book, shouldering her weight against the
door.  He hits it so hard, it opens.  Maya shoves it back
and, straining, manages to lock it.  At the same moment, she
realizes there's no more pressure on the other side.  She
stops pushing.

POV

Over her shoulder, we see the door behind her slightly open.
She turns and realizes this, takes two steps toward that door
and then freezes.  Maya's in the center of the room,
equidistant from all the doors.
She looks back at the door to the bathroom.  No shadows block
the light at its base.  Ever so slowly, keeping her eyes on
the bathroom door, she reaches over, unlocks and then pulls
open the door to the hall.  It swings open silently.  She
strains, listening as hard as she can.  But the only sound
she can hear is her own shallow breathing.  She says a silent
prayer.  Then steps gingerly toward the door to the hallway.
As she takes a second step:

Birdson BURSTS through the bathroom door behind her.  He
leaps and slashes at her, cutting her arm as she bolts
through the door to the hallway.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

...flying into the:

INT. LIBRARY

Where - WHAM! - she collides full tilt with a body.

			MAYA
	AHHHH!!!

It's Peter.  They hit the ground, groggy.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	Get up!!

			PETER
	What's the...OH SHIT!

Birdson races in, knife held high.  Peter grabs the small
reading table and uses it as a shield as they scramble to
their feet.  Whipping the knife back and forth at lightening
speed, Birdson corrals them into a corner.  It takes all of
Peter's skill to keep him at bay.

			MAYA
		(dawning realization)
	Peter, let go of the chair!

			PETER
	What?

Birdson menacingly circles left, then right.

			MAYA
	LET GO OF THE CHAIR!

As Birdson makes another thrust towards them, Maya suddenly
jerks the chair away, clearing a path for Birdson's knife to
hit Peter's abdomen.

Peter SCREAMS, bracing himself for the impact, an impact that
never comes.

Birdson freezes, stopping the thrust millimeters from Peter's
stomach.  He's caught in an unseen trap, paralyzed.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
		(insistent)
	He can't hurt you.

In that split second, Peter realizes Maya's right.  He takes
the chair and SMASHES Birdson in the head.  Birdson goes
down.  Peter kicks him.  He doesn't move.  Peter grabs
Birdson's knife.

			PETER
		(to Maya)
	You okay?

			MAYA (O.S.)
	When's your birthday?

			PETER
	What?

He looks back at Maya, who's holding her upper arm.  Blood
begins to drip down her side.  Peter immediately grabs hold
of her hand, carefully pushing her arm up in the air.

			PETER (CONT'D)
	Hang on, get it up, go on, higher.

			MAYA
	Your 33rd birthday.  The transformation
	will be a perversion of Christ's rising
	from the dead.  Townsend discovered it
	in one of Lareaux's books.

Peter goes to the window, grabs one of the lightweight
curtains and uses the knife to shred a piece.  He takes it
and bandages Maya's arm.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	It'll happen at the exact time of your
	birth.

			PETER
		(he stops)
	That can't be right.
		(as he ties off the dressing)
	My birthday's tomorrow.

With Peter and Maya in the foreground, we see, although they
don't, that Birdson sits up, his eyes open, staring at a
point above Maya and Peter.  A horrible rictus smile moves
across his face.  Birdson's eyes roll back into his head
until only white remains.  Then he begins to jerk
uncontrollably, his face contorting into one frightening
expression after the next.  Peter grabs the fish knife,
moving in front of Maya.

Birdson's limbs begin to torque out of control.  He convulses
on the floor then suddenly sits up closer to camera.  His
eyes roll back down into a normal position.  His face becomes
calm.  He looks at Peter and Maya.  A horrified look crosses
Birdson's face as his arm rotates backwards, bones snapping
and muscles ripping.

Involuntarily spewing from Birdson in ever-changing animal
like voices.

			BIRDSON
		(in Latin)
	My demon of anguish, help me create
	confusion and suffering forever and
	ever... and ever...(geni tormentorum,
	mihi commoventi perturbationem
	miseriamque in saaecula saeculorum, in
	saecula saeculorum, in saecula
	saeculorum...)

ECU

Birdson's head turns on his neck in unnatural manner, his
body still convulsing.  As he stops speaking, his head snaps
back around so he's facing Peter and Maya.

Suddenly, the chandelier above them flickers, the globes
EXPLODING and showering them with shards of glass.  Birdson's
entire body begins to vibrate, urine seeping out from beneath
him.  Then, horrifyingly, a horn like protusion begins to
push out from the upper edge of Birdson's head, growing,
straining...until finally the horn BURSTS through blowing his
head apart.  Birdson falls back onto the floor.  And as
Birdson finally dies, Peter looks at the corpse, then drops
heavily onto an arm of a chair.  Drained, Maya sits next to
him.  They lean against one another, together in trauma.

			MAYA
	He couldn't stop us and that's how he
	was punished.
		(insistent)
	Peter, what time were you born?

			PETER
	I don't know.
		(pulls in a breath,
		 overwhelmed)
	Probably have a copy of my birth
	certificate...my apartment.

EXT. RURAL ROAD - NIGHT

Peter's Range Rover moves at a fast clip down side streets
and back roads.

INT. RANGE ROVER

Highway's dark, except for Peter's headlights, as they roll
up and down a hilly back road.  Trees lean in on both sides.
The effect is eerily like driving in another world.

Maya flips through Lareaux's book.  A bible she took from
Townsend's house sits on her lap.  Looks over at Peter a
moment.

			MAYA
	There's nothing else here.

			PETER
	What's the bible for?

			MAYA
	Comfort.

Peter shrugs.  He starts to drive poorly.  His fatigue is
showing.  Maya looks up as:

POV

Up ahead, the road begins to parallel a lake.  Glimpses of
black water can be seen through the trees.  She powers down
her window to get some air.  Maya looks over at Peter.  His
face appears normal.  Then, she seems to hear a soft sound -
GASPING FOR BREATH.  Then:

The car suddenly drifts into the other lane, heading straight
for a guard rail which outlines the lake.  Instinctively,
Maya lunges for the steering wheel.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	Watch it!

She manages to twist it just enough so the car misses the
rail, but careens off the road.
The car RIPS through the bushes with an EXPLOSIVE ROAR and
SKIDS down the bank and plunges into the lake below.  And we:

						DISSOLVE TO:

An enormous SPLASH of water as Peter's car disappears into
the lake, the water BUBBLING and as we go under, we see the
windshield CRACK and SPLINTER and then we HEAR a ROUGH
SCREECH of brakes.  A horrendous long skid and...

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	PETER!

EXT. BACK ROAD - CONTINUOUS

The car has come to a final stop, sitting sideways in the
middle of the road, leaving huge skid marks behind it.  The
windshield's untouched.  The road empty.

INT. RANGE ROVER

Peter's breathing hard.  Maya's trembling, her hands on the
wheel.

			PETER
	What the hell's the matter with you?

EXT. RANGE ROVER

Maya pops her seat belt and bolts from the car, leaning
against the door, her breathing still LABORED.  Peter gets
out, moving around to her.  He sees she's having difficulty
breathing.  She chokes out a cough.  His anger turns to
concern.

			PETER
	Are you alright?

			MAYA
		(softly)
	Sometimes, when I feel weak, I have
	these...visions.

			PETER
	What do you mean?

			MAYA
	I see things.  My worst fears.  You need
	to know something, Peter.  I was
	possessed once.  Like Birdson.  It took
	Father Lareaux six days to pull me out
	of it.

Peter grabs hold of her, an impulsive move, ambiguous in its
intent and unknown even the Peter, then:

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	I'm scared I'm slipping back.

			PETER
		(scared himself)
	We're going to do this.

			MAYA
	You have to say that.

			PETER
		(a smile emerges)
	That's true.

Maya smiles back.

EXT. COUNTRY MARKET - NIGHT

Just past midnight.  A small, dirty white stucco and wood
country mart.  The only light is a stark, household flood.

TWO PEOPLE leave the market, carrying a six pack and a few
munchies.  They hop into their car and take off.

And at the edge of the lot, Peter's car is parked.

INT. COUNTRY MARKET

Peter and Maya SNAP the lids of their coffees.  Somewhere a
radio is ON.  Maya moves to the AGING CASHIER as Peter walks
over to a wall of generic first-aid remedies.  HE grabs the
largest band-aids there.  And as he joins Maya at the
counter, we see it's the cashier's radio.

			DEEJAY
		(filtered)
	Two minutes.

Cashier looks them over as he turns up the volume.

			DEEJAY (CONT'D)
		(sarcastic)
	Now this daylight thing is up to two
	minutes and scientists say sooner or
	later, we'll be losing like fifteen
	minutes a day.

			OWNER
		(rings them up)
	Five-twelve.

Peter pays.  Out of pennies, the cashier pulls out a new roll
and bangs it open inside of the register.

			DEEJAY
	Now I'll never be on time for work.

EXT. MARKET

Peter and Maya sit on the edge of the curb, sipping coffee.
Maya pulls out her cigarettes and lights up.  She offers him
the pack.  He gratefully takes one, lights up and inhales.

			PETER
	Why did you lie to me about your
	parents' deaths?

			MAYA
	I was desperate.  I knew you wrote about
	murders.  I needed a way in.

Suddenly a car motors toward them.  Just as a DEER decides to
cross the two-lane road.  The car's HIGH BEAMS startle the
deer, it stops, snaps a stunned look at Peter and Maya.  A
moment of stillness, then it gallops to safety just as the
car speeds by.  Suddenly, quiet again.

			PETER
	Close call.  For the first time in a
	long time, it's really hitting me.
	Life's tenuous.

			MAYA
	I know it is.  Right after my parents
	died, I went to the beach...
		(short intake of breath)
	I was in the water.  Everything was
	calm.  And then one of those really big
	waves hit me.  Hard.  Pulled me straight
	to the bottom.  I struggled and finally
	ran out of air.
		(gulps air)
	If it hadn't been for my sister who
	pulled me out, I would've drowned.
	Legally dead for a couple of minutes is
	what they told me.

			PETER
	No oxygen to the brain.

			MAYA
	Maybe that's my problem.

			PETER
	Why didn't you just go along with
	Townsend.  Get rid of me.  I would've...

			MAYA
	Until it happens, you're still a human
	being.

			PETER
	What about after?

			MAYA
	Only your body will remain.  I believe
	your soul will be at peace.  If we kill
	you, Satan can't stay.

She see him react to this.

INT. PETER'S LIVING ROOM

The door opens.  It's dark, except for the luminescence of
Peter's aquarium.  We see some of the fish are listing and
the aquarium still has a slow leak.  The floor's wet.

			PETER
	Claire, are you home?

He SNAPS on the light.  Silent.  Stuffy.  He opens a window.

			MAYA
	More air.  Always a good thing.

INT. BEDROOM

Peter's box of records is on the bed where he left it.  The
ancient news articles are scattered.  Some fallen onto the
floor.

Peter picks everything up as Maya sifts the contents on the
bed.  We see passing glimpses of a passport, bankbooks,
insurance policies, a will, a set of keys, and then a
parchment copy of Peter's birth certificate.  Maya picks it
up.

CLOSE ON

Time of Peter's birth is 4:55 PM.

			MAYA
	Tomorrow afternoon.  Four forty-five.

Peter absorbs this.

			PETER
		(false bravado)
	Plenty of time.

			MAYA
		(fingers set of keys in box)
	What are these?

			PETER
	I don't know.  Extra apartment keys.
	What's it matter?

			MAYA
		(desperate)
	Maybe I should check Lareaux's book.
	It's in the car.  Be right back.  Don't
	go anywhere.

			PETER
	Sure.

Maya leaves the room.  Moments later, Peter hears the front
door open and close.  Doesn't move, then, suddenly, in a
flurry of anger, he knocks the phone off the bedside table.
A lamp flies off with it.  Then he stands and sweeps his arm
across the top of his bureau, knocking off pictures, moments,
a jewelry box.  Turning, he flips over a chair and kicks it
viciously.

Breathing hard, he slumps back on the bed.  Across the room
he sees a picture of Claire has slipped partially behind the
bureau.  Its glass has shattered and only half her face is
visible.

Peter immediately picks it up.  Stares down at this smiling
girlfriend.  He lays it carefully back on the bureau, trying
to regain some control.  He breathes deep, then begins
gathering everything back on to the bed.  He looks at the set
of keys.  Picks them up.  Compares them with his own set.

Trying to think, he stares out his bedroom window at the
building ledge across the way.  He SEES the potted geraniums,
now arranged, a simple red flourish.

Then a light snaps on in the apartment below and as he looks
down, noticing it, his eyes shift, a momentary realization
and he looks back down at the keys and leaves his apartment.

INT. ELEVATOR

Peter gets on.  He looks at the unknown keys again.  Then
pushes the button for the fourth floor.

INT. APT. 4-A - NIGHT

Peter knocks softly on the door.  Then more loudly.  No
response.  He tries on of the new keys, slowly giving it a
turn.  It works.  He tries the lower lock.  The click of this
key is audible as...

INT. APT. 4-A

The door swings open to a dark apartment.  Peter stands
warily at the door, then flips on the lights.  Nothing there.
No furniture.  No occupance.

Peter steps in and closes the door.  He looks around at the
emptiness.  A cockroach scurries across the floor in front of
him.

INT. LIVING ROOM

He walks through the living room and...

INT. BEDROOM

Only a small table and lamp have been left in the corner.
Peter switches on the lamp.  He notices the ceiling's been
dropped.  A grid of white tile panels, held by a lightweight
metal frame.  He stares at it.

Very slowly he raises the broom upward and pokes on of the
panels.  It moves easily.  He pushes harder and manages to
angle the panel, sliding it back, so that some of the
original ceiling is visible.  He sees:

A lurid splash of color, a tiny fragment of white line, and
part of a strange design.

Peter stares hard at it.  He grabs the small table from the
corner and drags it to the center of the room.  Standing on
it, he can now easily reach the tiles with his hands.

He SMASHES the panels loose, KNOCKING THEM OUT and dropping
them on the floor.  Two, three, four more tiles.  Then five.

						   TIME JUMP CUT TO:

The floor below him is littered with ceiling tiles.  Peter
looks up at:

CEILING

An enormous PENTACLE.  Nine feet wide.  It sprawls across the
ceiling.  Runic symbols crest its edges.  For a moment,
Peter's mesmerized.

INT. FOURTH FLOOR HALLWAY

The door of Apt. 4-A is thrown open.  Peter takes off,
leaving the door ajar behind him.

INT. PETER'S APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

The front door is thrown open.  Peter steps in to see:

Maya, standing, slightly tense, talking to somebody.  The
other VOICE is obscured by the sound of a garbage truck
moving down the street.  And as Peter moves farther inside,
past the door, he sees:

Claire, sitting on the overstuffed chair.

			CLAIRE
		(gets up)
	There you are!  My God, darling, I've
	been so worried.  Are you alright?

			PETER
	Claire...

			CLAIRE
	This is the person...you were talking
	about?

			MAYA
	Where were you?

Peter holds out the keys to Claire, ignoring Maya.

			PETER
	What're these?

			CLAIRE
	I don't know.  What are they?

			PETER
	I found them in your file box.

			CLAIRE
	Must be a spare set.

			PETER
	I thought the spare set was in the
	kitchen drawer.

			PETER (CONT'D)
		(to Claire)
	You were hiding them.

Claire gets up, moving to Peter, and reaches to embrace him.
He lets it happen, but doesn't reciprocate.

			CLAIRE
	Honey, you're exhausted.  Do you want to
	lie down for a little while?

			PETER
		(moving across the room)
	I found the pentacle.

Maya's eyes widen with alarm.  She turns quickly toward
Claire who's watching them.  And as Peter follows Maya's
stare, in one slow move, Claire pulls a Beretta from a drawer
in the aquarium table.  She points the gun directly at Maya.

			CLAIRE
	She's been stalking you, Peter.

			PETER
	So you're going to kill her?  Put the
	gun down Claire.

Claire ignores him, but before she can make her move, Peter
has grabbed her wrist, twisting her back into the living
room, trying to pull the gun out of her hand.  Claire wrests
free of Peter.

			CLAIRE
	Listen to me, I love you, Peter, I'm
	trying to protect you!

			PETER
	You really had me going, Claire.  I was
	finally ready to propose to you.

			CLAIRE
	We're still going to be together.

			CLAIRE (CONT'D)
	There's nothing you can do about it.
		(to Maya)
	I've fucking had it with you.

She lunges at Maya, one powerful move, but as she does, Maya
moves out of the way.  And as Maya spins around, Claire goes
for her again, but she trips on the wet floor, losing her
balance.  As Peter grabs to catch her, she crashes horribly
through the glass shelves.

Peter is horrified.

Then he walks to Claire and pulls the gun from her lifeless
hand.  Maya and Peter stare at each other in shock for a
moment.  Then Maya's pager sounds.  She checks the number and
goes to the phone and dials.  As she does, Peter pulls a
blanket off the sofa and covers Claire's body.

			MAYA
	Hi, it's me.  What's going on?

She listens, and her expression changes to one of relief.
She hangs up the phone and turns to Peter.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	Lareaux...he's coming out of it.  Let's
	go.

INT. RANGE ROVER - NIGHT

The car passes through the nearly deserted streets.  A STREET
SWEEPER passes, brushes whirring.

EXT. SEMINARY - DAWN

As the sunlight prisms on dew-covered grass, Peter and Maya
pull into the seminary parking lot.

INT. FATHER LAREAUX'S ROOM

A small crowd of priests, including Father Frank, is in the
room.  Several stand next to the bed, blocking a clear view
of Father Lareaux.  Soft CLASSICAL MUSIC plays.  The mood is
upbeat.  As the door opens, Father Frank sees Maya lead Peter
in by the arm like a puppet or a lost soul.

			FATHER FRANK
		(vindictively)
	I'm glad you're here.  There's something
	you need to see.

With only a cursory glance at Peter, he leads Maya to the
bed.  The other priests move away.  Father Lareaux is sitting
up against his pillows.  He looks good, rosy cheeked - almost
back to normal.

			LAREAUX
		(happy to see her)
	Miette...

Maya throws her arms around his neck, smiling for the first
time in a long time.

			MAYA
	Father!  Thank God you're better!  I
	really need your help.  We've only got a
	few more hours.

			LAREAUX
	Don't worry...about the transformation,
	Maya.

			MAYA
	What do you mean "don't worry?"

			LAREAUX
		(being careful not to wound
		 her)
	Well, in my prayers, I realized we've
	been fooling ourselves and probably...
	blown this all out of proportion.  God
	would never allow anything like that to
	happen.

Maya is floored.  Father Frank looks at her scornfully.

			FATHER FRANK
	I told you this was myth all along.

			PETER
		(confused)
	Does that mean it's over?

Lareaux nods a "yes" at Peter, as Maya sits on the old
priest's bed.  Peter stands beside her.

			MAYA
	So...we won?

			LAREAUX
		(sweet smile)
	Yes.  We won, that's right.

Maya plays with her cross, distractedly, rocking it back and
forth between her fingers.  Lareaux re-fluffs his pillows,
looking away from Maya, moving slightly, making himself more
comfortable.

			MAYA
	We won because Christ...triumphed over
	Satan?

			LAREAUX
	Um hm.  That's right, Maya.

			MAYA
	So, if Christ won, that means, what does
	that mean, Father?  That Satan...

			LAREAUX
		(tenderly, swallowing back)
	Would you like to rest, Miette?  You
	must be exhausted.

Maya picks up a scapular from the dresser and moves in closer
to Lareaux.

			MAYA
		(insistent)
	So I guess Satan lost.  Satan is the
	weak one.

			LAREAUX
		(breath coming in shorter
		 bursts)
	Miette, come here and relax.

Maya is crowding Lareaux now, the scapular thrust almost
directly in his face.

			MAYA
		(repeating, monotone)
	I can relax, because Satan the coward,
	trembles before Christ, right?

Father Frank moves over to Maya with another Priest.  Sees
Lareaux is having trouble breathing.

			FATHER FRANK
	All right.  That's enough for now.  He's
	just recovering.  Take it easy, Maya.

But Maya resists their tugging arms, leaning closer to
Lareaux.

			MAYA
	But doesn't he tremble, Father?  Doesn't
	he cower, like a frightened jackal?
	Satan, the half-wit...

Maya continues, taunting, her cross dangling over Lareaux.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
		(as slowly as she can)
	The whimpering slave of Christ!  The
	impotent dog on God's leash!

Maya thrusts the scapular onto Father Lareaux's forehead.  He
recoils violently, as though burned.

			LAREAUX
		(vicious, another voice)
	HE'LL MAKE CHRIST CRAWL!

The entire room stares, transfixed, at Lareaux.  Maya look at
peter, then Father Frank, as she moves carefully off the bed.

INT. FATHER LAREAUX'S ROOM - SHORT TIME LATER

A nervous Father Frank is supervising the Jesuits as they
empty Lareaux's room of its extraneous contents.  He avoids
looking at Maya.  Father Lareaux sits calmly in a chair at
the center of the room.  None of the Jesuits meet his eye.
One Priest tapes the curtains closed over the window.  A lamp
provides the only light.

INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE LAREAUX'S ROOM - DAY

Peter and Maya stand anxiously near the door, waiting...

			MAYA
	He's our best chance.  If we can get him
	back.

Without realizing it, she's touching her shirt cuffs.

			PETER
	What can I do?

			MAYA
		(emphatically)
	You have to be experienced to do this.
	Just wait outside. Otherwise, you risk
	killing him.

Maya looks at him, then clasps his hand briefly.  She breaks
off and walks over to Father Frank.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	You'll do it?

			FATHER FRANK
	I don't have the experience.  Father
	Thomas should officiate.

Father Thomas, a tall Jesuit in his forties, strides down the
hall.
He's dressed in a long black cassock, with surplice and
purple stole.  He's resolute.  Two other Jesuits, Father
Malcolm and Father Jeremy, follow him.

						DISSOLVE TO:

MAYA AND FATHER JEREMY STAND CLOSE TOGETHER IN THE HALLWAY.
WE HEAR HER WHISPERED MURMUR.

			MAYA
	Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.

INT. FATHER LAREAUX'S ROOM

The priests enter and begin to prep the room.  Father Malcolm
goes to the closet and takes out the briefcase we saw at
Birdson's exorcism.  He opens it and takes out a bible, a
cross a vial of Holy Water.

We see Father Thomas don his cassock and scapular in the
partitioned dressing area of Father Lareaux's room.  Maya
enters.  Peter, from the doorway, sees her lock eyes with
Lareaux.  Finally, she turns away.  Lareaux's smile widens.
Father Thomas steps out from Behind the partition.

			FATHER THOMAS
	Tie him to the chair.

Father Thomas makes the Sign of the Cross.  Then, he places
the tip of his stole on Lareaux's neck, and his right hand on
Lareaux's head.  Lareaux flinches.  Father Thomas places
relics of the Saints on Lareaux's chest.  He writhes as if in
pain.  Father Thomas sprinkles Lareaux with Holy Water.
Lareaux reacts as though it were burning oil.  Finally,
Father Thomas kneels, beginning the Litanies of the Saints,
in Latin.

INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE LAREAUX'S ROOM

The last thing Peter sees as the door closes is Maya.
Serious, tight, professional and outside the door, Father
Frank is already mouthing his rosary:

			PETER
		(to Father Frank)
	Now what?

			FATHER FRANK
	There's nothing we can do but pray.
	We'll be in the church.

Father Frank leads the other Jesuits down the hall.  Within
seconds, Peter's alone.  He looks at the door.
Then he slowly moves closer to it, until he's a foot away.
He tries to listen.  Nothing.  He leans even closer.

			FATHER THOMAS (O.S.)
		(in Latin)
	Behold the Cross of the Lord.  Depart,
	enemies!  Unclean spirits, and all your
	companions, I command you.   Tell me
	your name!

Peter moves closer.

			FATHER THOMAS (O.S.) (CONT'D)
	...by the love and power of Christ, who
	has redeemed man from your grasp, I
	command you.

Peter moves away and sits down on a bench in the hallway.

INT. SMALL CHAPEL - DAY

Fourteen Jesuits of mixed race, including Father Frank.
Chant prayers in Latin.

INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE LAREAUX'S ROOM

Peter is sitting on the bench.  He HEARS:

			VOICES (O.S.)
	Peter, Peter...

He looks down the corridor.  He sees no one.  He looks in the
other direction and sees a JANITOR eating a sandwich and
pouring a container of MILK into a large glass.  Once again,
he hears:

			VOICES (O.S.) (CONT'D)
	Peter, Peter...

He looks at the door to Lareaux's room and sees the WALL
BREATH IN AND OUT AS IF IT'S ALIVE.  He runs to the door and
puts his ear against it.

			FATHER THOMAS (O.S.)
	...be gone and leave this child of the
	Lord God almighty.  Be gone, by the
	power of Christ.  Be gone, by the power
	of the Holy Spirit.

Suddenly the imprint of a chair pushes against the wall as it
will burst right through.  Peter jumps away.  He approaches
the door.

			FATHER THOMAS (O.S.) (CONT'D)
	In the name of Christ, I command you.
	Tell me your name!

Suddenly a body slams into the wall which starts to ripple as
if a subterranean shape were moving through it.  The body
appears to be climbing straight up the wall.

There's an explosion of NOISE, shrieking and shouting, the
sounds of furniture being violently overturned.  Peter is
mesmerized and scared.  Hateful VOICES SWELL UP.

			VOICES (O.S.)
	Too late, too late, too late, too late.

Peter touches the door knob to Lareaux's room.  It is
FREEZING COLD, so cold it burns.  He pulls his hand away and
wraps his jacket around his hand.

			MAYA (O.S.)
	Please, no!

Peter is torn.  His hand again moves to the doorknob.
Another body SLAMS into the wall.  More NOISE cries of PANIC,
ANGER...and pain.

			FATHER THOMAS (O.S.)
	Move, move!

A GROWLING ANIMAL is heard, like a BABOON SHRIEKING.  Peter
starts to turn the knob, then stops.  He's caught, unsure
until Maya calls out in agony.

			MAYA (O.S.)
	Peter, help me.  Oh God!

Peter flings the door open and steps inside.

INT. LAREAUX'S ROOM - DAY

AND THEN VERY FAST.  The door SLAMS behind Peter and Locks
itself tight.  Then, Peter sees:

The room is not destroyed.  The room is FREEZING COLD, breath
is visible.  Lareaux is tied to the chair.  Father Thomas is
standing over him, with a crucifix in hand, the Eucharist on
Lareaux's head.  Maya and the younger Priests are kneeling
just behind Father Thomas, overwhelmed.

			LAREAUX
	Gotcha!

The lamp immediately goes out.  Room is pitch black.

			FATHER THOMAS
	Jeremy, the door!

We hear FUMBLING grunting.

			FATHER JEREMY
	It...I can't!

			FATHER THOMAS
		(continue subbing, in Latin)
	Lowly beast, through the power of
	Christ.  Let the door re-open.

VOICES begin.  MOCKING, speeded up versions of sentences
we've heard before, LATIN and ENGLISH.

			LAREAUX
		(in Peter's voice)
	Go on.  Do something.  Show me.
		(in Maya's voice)
	I'm scared I'm slipping back...

A beat.  Then a normal voice.

			PETER
	Maya?

A TORRENT OF PROFANITY drowns him out.  A thousand voices,
young and old, crying, cursing, filling the air with hatred
and spite.  Amidst this hurricane of sound, the lights begin
to flicker at ultra-high speed, creating a strobe effect.
The window bursts open, flooding the room with light.  Father
Jeremy races over and struggles to close it, but cannot.
Maya is revealed praying, eyes open.  Peter and Father
Malcolm are crouched near the door.  A terrified Father
Thomas is bravely standing, holding his crucifix in front of
himself, facing Lareaux.  Or where Lareaux was.  The chair is
empty  Amid the deafening noise, Peter sees:

Lareaux rise up behind Maya and encircle her throat with his
hands as the HELLISH VOICES reach a crescendo.  Lareaux
begins to sing softly:

			LAREAUX
	Rock-a-bye baby, on a tree top...

Peter leaps to pull Lareaux off her, but the aging priest
surprised Peter by grabbing him and hold him at bay.

As Peter struggles, Lareaux's expression shifts.  His
confidence vanishes and pain distorts his features.  Lareaux
falls to the floor in agony.
Maya and Peter bend down to help him, but the noise makes it
impossible for them to hear one another.  Maya pulls open
Lareaux's collar to try to get him more air and in that
instant, the VOICES STOP.  The lights POP on.  Maya leans
close to Lareaux, who's dying on the floor, MUMBLING
incoherently.  And on Lareaux's forehead, we see incisions
resembling strange, unknown letters.  Like they've been cut
from within.  The incisions are repeated on the backs of
Lareaux's hands.  The room is so cold, steam pops off the
breath.  Father Thomas moves fast, beginning the last rites
in Latin.  He makes the sign of the Cross on Lareaux's
forehead, then:

			FATHER THOMAS
		(to Lareaux, in Latin)
	Confiterisne vitia tua ante omnipotentem
	deum?  (Do you confess your sins before
	almighty God?)

			LAREAUX
	...the ark sank, the sun set, the ark
	sank again...

			MAYA
		(desperately)
	Father, please don't die.

			LAREAUX
		(in great suffering)
	...art sank, sun set, ark sank again...

Maya leans down, inches from the dying priest.  Peter moves
beside her.

			MAYA
	Father!

For a split second, Lareaux surfaces from his confusion and
looks at her with a great kindness.

			LAREAUX
	Ensemble pour toujours quoi qu'il
	arrive.

As he dies, Maya is momentarily inert, tears of exhaustion.
She's devastated. And we HEAR a single GRACE NOTE laced with
an intake of BREATH as we

						       SMASH CUT TO:

INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE LAREAUX'S ROOM

It's CHAOS as Jesuits rush in and out of the cell, helping
the exorcism participants.  Father Frank glares at Maya, as
he helps clear the room.

			PETER
		(looking down at Maya)
	I thought you were in danger.

Maya backs away from Lareaux, who is being covered with a
white sheet.  A last glance and then she takes off with
Peter.

INT. RANGE ROVER

Maya looks straight ahead, trying to shake off her fear.
Peter looks at Maya, moved by her.  Puts an arm around her
shoulder, a momentary intimacy, then he pulls away.  Finally,
Maya looks at Peter.

			MAYA
	I'll be all right.
		(reflective)
	Peter, at the very end, I think Father
	was back.  I saw it in his eyes.

			PETER
	So, what does it mean.  The ark sank and
	the sun set?

			MAYA
	He's been repeating that since Birdson's
	exorcism.  I looked in every passage in
	the Bible and there's nothing about an
	ark or a sunset that tells us anything.

			PETER
	What did he say to you in French?

			MAYA
	That's his, I don't know, his
	'grounding' phrase for me, "together, no
	matter what."

			PETER
		(deep sigh)
	Terrific.

EXT. NEWARK NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY

The Range Rover enters a blue-collar residential part of the
city, old townhouses on both sides of the street.  The
traffic is heavy and the Rover slows, pulling to the curb.

INT. RANGE ROVER

Peter studies Maya, admiring her in some new way.

			MAYA
	He was trying to tell me something.

			PETER
		(cynical)
	And his message was  "Together, no
	matter what?"

A car pulls up alongside them.  The driver, a middle-aged
WOMAN, rolls down her window and calls out to Peter.

			WOMAN
	Helloooo - do you live around here?
		(Peter ignores her)
	How do I get to the turnpike?

The car behind her HONKS impatiently.

			IRKED MOTORIST
	THERE'S FIVE FUCKING CARS BEHIND YOU,
	ASSHOLE!

Peter turns to the woman.

			PETER
		(doesn't give a shit)
	Lady, I don't know.

Offended, the woman drives off.  Peter turns back to Maya,
who's suddenly grabbed Townsend's Bible and furiously flips
through it.

			MAYA
	Wait a minute.  The message.  He used
	French, he knew he couldn't say it
	directly.  The arc "sank" or "cinq" c-i
	n-q.  It's French for five.  The sun
	"set" or pronounced like "sept".  The
	French word for seven.  The arc "sank"
	again.
		(then)
	It's five-seven-fie.  Book chapter and
	verse!

She finally stops at a specific section she was looking for.

			MAYA (CONT'D)
	Book five, Deuteronomy, chapter seven,
	verse five.
		(reads)
	"But this shall you deal with them.  You
	shall break down their altars and burn
	their graven images with fire."

			PETER
	And what's that mean?

She knows.

EXT. GAS STATION - AFTERNOON

The Range Rover pulls up.  Peter gets out.  He's got a five
gallon gas can.  Maya enters the gas station MINI-MART.  A
clock reads 4:05.  Afternoon NEWS plays on a TV.

			NEWSCASTER
	An international group of scientists
	will assemble in Geneva later this week
	in an attempt to determine the cause of
	diminishing daylight, a phenomenon which
	has baffled the world's finest
	scientific minds.  In local news, the
	case of accused killer George Viznick
	ended in a mistrial today.  Prosecutors
	vowed to press for a new trial
	immediately.

Maya hands the clerk some money and glances outside at Peter
filling the gas can.

EXT. SAINT BENEDICTUS - AFTERNOON

It looks quiet and serene in the afternoon light.  Peter and
Maya approach carefully.  They see a collection of cars in
front of the church.  Unkempt and dirty, a few pedestrians
stare at them.  The gas bumps conspicuously against Maya's
thigh.

EXT. SAINT BENEDICTUS - SIDE ENTRANCE

Peter pulls out Claire's gun.  They step inside.

INT. SAINT BENEDICTUS - CONTINUOUS

Peter and Maya pass through the vestry and edge their way
into the main cathedral.  A MASS is in progress.  A lay
READER has memorized the text.

			READER
	God appears and God is light to those
	pour souls who dwell in night.

Peter and Maya move in suddenly from the vestry, onto the
altar, behind the reader.  Maya's shocked by the packed-to
capacity church.  The crowd inside immediately switch their
focus to Maya and then to Peter, who's just moved up onto the
altar, standing unknowingly directly under the CROSS.

			READER (CONT'D)
	But does a human form display...

The reader sees the stares from the crowd, stops, and turns
to Maya and Peter.  The reader is wearing a small inverted
cross around her neck.

			READER (CONT'D)
	Welcome!

In the crowd, Maya sees the little girl from the diner.  Maya
is stunned.  The little girl catches Maya's glance, giving
her a sly smile and then looks away.  Her mother appears
beside her.  Unnerved, Maya looks at Peter, desperate.

			MAYA
	Eight minutes...

Then, the priest at the front of the church, standing quietly
next to the reader, turns slowly toward Peter, oddly very
calm.  And we see it's Father James.  He smiles.  Charming,
gracious.

			FATHER JAMES
		(looking at gas can)
	Did you really think you could just burn
	the church down.  That some ritualistic
	hocus pocus could just end this?

Alarmed, Peter looks at Maya, but her gaze is locked on
James.  Then Peter glances down at the dripping gasoline can
in Maya's hand and as she sets it down.

			FATHER JAMES (CONT'D)
	Lareaux was never free of us.  He led
	you here.
		(he starts to sing softly)
	"Get me to the church on time."

Peter moves toward James, putting the gun to his uncle's
head.

			PETER
		(barely able to stand it)
	You fucking bastard.

			FATHER JAMES
	Don't you get it?
		(re: Maya)
	They had their 2,000 years.  Now it's
	our turn.

			PETER
	So all that bullshit about God and
	faith.

			FATHER JAMES
	It was perfect.  The harder I pushed,
	the more you pulled away.

			PETER
		(beyond anger, beyond tears)
	You lied to me my whole life.
	Everything you said, everything you did.

			FATHER JAMES
	Everything I did, I did for you.  I love
	you, Peter.  Think of it.  I'm giving
	you a gift, absolute power and
	knowledge.

			PETER
	You raised me, like a son.

			FATHER JAMES
	You are my son.  Don't you see the
	opportunity that lies before you?

			PETER
		(putting it together)
	You killed my parents.

			FATHER JAMES
	I had to.  There was no other way.
	Their deaths were part of the greatest
	legacy I could have given you.

Peter moves the muzzle of the gun into James' carotid artery.

CLOSE ON MAYA

The realization floods her.

			MAYA
	Don't!  That's what they want.

			FATHER JAMES
	It will be my ultimate sacrifice!

			MAYA
	If you commit murder, you accept evil.

One by one, people in the congregation begin to rise.  Peter
can't believe what he sees.  Susan and Mrs. Quintana.

Stunned, Peter lets the gun lower a moment and then, as he
turns back to Maya, he's too late.

James has moved behind Maya, holding a long-bladed knife at
her throat.  James anchors it at her neck, forming a
shimmering upside down Cross, Runic symbols carved into the
Sterling handle.

Peter pivots, pulling up the gun again, aiming it back at
James.

			PETER
	Drop the knife.

He cocks the gun.

			FATHER JAMES
	She's going to die right in front of
	you.

Peter looks at Maya.  Her expression gives him the permission
to do the unthinkable.

			MAYA
		(softly)
	Let him kill me.

Peter's thrown off.  Maya lets her eyes blink closed.  For a
moment, no one moves.  The knife glints off the stained
glass.

CLOSE ON

Peter.  Thinking.  Unraveling.

			FATHER JAMES
		(big smile)
	You have no idea how much you look like
	your mother right now.

Peter FIRES, an ECHOING REPORT, bouncing from the Cathedral
ceiling to the Travertine floor.  Father James falls,
mortally wounded.

			WILLIAM
	And you thought I was the family fuck
	up.

Peter sees William approaching from the pews.

			WILLIAM (CONT'D)
	Thank you, Maya.  You served us well.

Stunned, Peter gulps a mouthful of air, lifts his gun and
shoots William in the eye.  Immediate.  The bullet powers
through William, lodging in Mrs. Quintana.  She COUGHS up a
GURGLING choke, eyes wide.  And as she dies gripping her
neck, she doubles over the back of a wooden pew.

The crowd reacts.  Maya grabs hold of Peter edging him back
toward the vestry and out of the church.  As the Congregation
starts to press forward, Peter swings the gun back up and out
toward them.  It glistens off the Chalices.  They stop, wary
and as Maya and Peter finally turn their backs on the crowd,
they take off past the sacred Eurcharistic relics.

INT. VESTRY/SAINT BENEDICTUS

Through the vestry and out the back door.

EXT. STREET - DUSK

Peter and Maya sprint for the Rover.

INT. RANGE ROVER

Peter and Maya speed up the street.  They turn the corner and
continue up a street undergoing construction.  Fenced by
sawhorse barricades, it's equipped with flashing warning
lights.

			PETER
	How much time do we have?

			MAYA
	Not a lot.

Peter races past the barricades, side-swiping the steel
sawhorses, then suddenly he slams on the brakes, skidding to
a rough stop, nowhere to go.

INT. RANGE ROVER

Peter looks at Maya, then at the gun in his lap and back at
her.  Conflicted emotions.  He picks up the revolver.  Maya
stares at Peter.  A huge fear rips through her body.  Peter
hesitates.  Then hands her the gun.

			PETER
	If you can do it...go ahead.

Maya puts the gun down.  Leans over and embraces him.  They
hold onto each other.  A shared intimacy, unknown to either
of them.

			MAYA
		(a desperate whisper)
	I'm not strong enough for this.

Peter reaches over and tenderly brushes the hair away from
Maya's face.  Then Maya pulls away, raising the tiny gun and
TIME slows to a crawl.

Maya holds the Beretta.  The strain etched on her face, her
hands shake, her eyes well up.  Peter waits, watching her.
She's unsure.  We HEAR a choked back breath.  Gasping, lungs
looking for air.  The struggle for life.

The car clock seems frozen on 4:54.  Finally, it turns over
and...

Nothing happens.

Peter's looking at her.  He knows.  He's sure of it.

			PETER
	It didn't work!  Maya, I'm okay.

Peter reaches for her, his face radiant, joyful, alive.  She
doesn't move a muscle.  The gun barrel doesn't quiver.

			MAYA
	Oh, Peter.

			PETER
		(changed tone)
	It's me.  Put the gun down.  Maya...

Tears roll down her face, as she cocks the Beretta.

			PETER (CONT'D)
	If you really think I'm the Devil, then
	shoot me.

Out of the corner of her eye, Maya sees the clock - its hands
rapidly spin backward.

EXT. RANGE ROVER

A HIGH ANGLE of the car from above.  A SHOT RIPS through the
air.  Then one more.  Maya exits the car.  She's unsteady on
her feet.  The camera pans up into the night sky.

SILENCE.

Followed by a low-pitched, disturbing rumble.  A kind of
GROTESQUE GROAN.  Then some HUM is heard.  Static.  A not
quite-tuned in radio station becomes audible.

			DEEJAY (V.O.)
	I love this, now scientists are saying
	the days have suddenly stopped getting
	shorter.  It makes you wonder.  Do these
	guys know anything?

The station fades out.  There's a FRAGMENT of POP MUSIC, more
STATIC, then the RADIO'S SNAPPED OFF.  And we hear the sound
of breathing, light and steady.

						DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. RURAL ROAD - DAY

An aerial shot of a steel blue car as it cruises down a two
lane highway.  Passing fields of cotton.

INT. BLUE CAR - DAY

Inside the car, Maya is driving.  Windows down.  She looks
serene, at peace, carrying her wound well as we:

						   FADE OUT.

ALTERNATE ENDING:

INT. RANGE ROVER

Maya aims at Peter's head and pulls the trigger.  Peter's
thrown back against the seat.  She fires again into his
heart.  Maya lets the gun down slowly.  Tears streak her
cheeks, as she cups his face in her hands.

						DISSOLVE TO:

SILENCE

Followed by a LOW-PITCHED, DISTURBING RUMBLE, a kind of
GROTESQUE GROAN.  Then some HUM is heard.  STATIC.  A not
quite-tuned-in radio station becomes audible.

			DEEJAY (V.O.)
	I love this, now scientists are saying
	the days have suddenly stopped getting
	shorter.  It makes you wonder.  Do these
	guys know anything?

The station fades out.  There's a FRAGMENT of POP MUSIC, more
STATIC, then the RADIO'S SNAPPED OFF.  And we hear the sound
of breathing, light and steady.

						   FADE OUT.