Revelation
Part one
©
Bob Chartain
7/29/2009
REVELATION
FADE IN:
A PANORAMIC SHOT OF THE MOUNTAINS - NIGHT
A dusty road in the great southwestern desert. Headlights appear far in the distance, winding slowly down from the mountains that surround the OPHIR VALLEY.
THE CLOUDED SKY is ghostly - full mooned. The landscape is surreal. In the distance are rugged mountains casting their majestic and awesome spires to meet this ominous sky.
VARIOUS SELECTED SHOTS are filmed in the stark Ansel Adams style.
ext. THE OLD 1951 Chevy PICKUP TRUCK - NIGHT
with a tattered camper shell and a horse trailer moves closer. Over the rumble we hear SINGING.
INt. MESSY TRUCK, - NIGHT
REMBRANDT HILL turns and sings to THE CAMERA. He is lean, lanky, rock featured and very much into his "off key" song. MUCK, Brandt's black spotted dog and sidekick, grimaces and closes his one blue eye, then puts his paw to his ear and WHINES in counterpoint to the melody.
BRANDT
Lighten up Mucky Poo. It's another great adventure. Only a little more digging and we'll have the story and then --
(lifts finger)
We'll show 'em. The best revenge is living well. You'll like Sarah.
Muck gives a "get off it" whine.
BRANDT (CONT'D)
Okay, okay. I got it.
The truck SPUTTERS and COUGHS - loud KICKS echo from the horse trailer. Brandt tenses. Muck's ears perk as he strains to hear through the surrounding blackness, then BARKS.
In reverence to gods unknown, Brandt superstitiously fingers the arrow-head and red feather on the dashboard.
ext. AHEAD, IN THE FOREBODING LANDSCAPE -NIGHT
is dilapidated gate and rusty tracks of an abandoned railroad crossing. The truck lurches forward.
BRANDT
Come on baby, you can do it.
Hero (the horse's) kicks and the truck sputters grow LOUDER now. Brandt leans out the window and yells back.
BRANDT (CONT'D)
Hero, quiet down... or I'll go back there and whop you one.
THE TRUCK - SHUTTERS and dies at the crest of the crossing. Brandt twists the ignition key with futility, GRINDING the starter motor.
HERO -
kicks the horse trailer with a frenzy as -
MUCK -
WAILS an ungodly sound.
BRANDT -
- unwinds from the steering wheel and races to the horse
trailer. The distant SOUND an ancient steam engine echoes in
the distance.
BRANDT
Muck, get back here! Give me a hand.
He grabs at Hero's halter. Muck jumps in and the horse immediately quiets down. Brandt scans the surroundings. The WHISTLE of the steam engine is closer.
BRANDT (CONT'D)
(patting the horse)
It's all right boy.
(moving forward)
Everything is going to be all right.
Brandt lifts the hood, removes the air cleaner of the high powered chrome engine, fiddles with the carburetor. A sudden chill wind upsets his hat and he pulls his jacket tighter.
BRANDT (CONT'D)
Burr... some Summer. this feels like a graveyard.
He burns his hand on the engine.
BRANDT (CONT'D)
Ouch...GD'... Son of a gun.
Winds gust, he zips his jacket tighter and continues to tinker.
BRANDT (cont'd)
There that should do it.
The lonesome trains whistle ECHOES closer through the valley. The sound spooks Hero and the truck rocks under the horses brutal kicking. The hood rocks, teeters, then slams onto Brandt's shoulders.
MUCK - tugs at Brandt's pant leg.
BRANDT (CONT'D)
Stop it Muck.
(now screaming)
Hero, damn it, quiet down. Come on guys, give me a chance will yeah? It's just a loose ignition wire.
The train's WHISTLE pierces the air again. Brandt jumps into the truck and tries the starter. It sputters, catches on a few cylinders. The truck lurches forward to the center of the crossing, backfires and dies. In b.g. -
A GHOSTLY TRAIN WITH A STRING OF DARK PASSENGER CARS - bears down on the tiny truck and trailer. Un-fazed by impending disaster, Brandt takes his shotgun, jumps out, looks around, sets the gun on the truck and strains to push the truck from the crossing. Muck tugs at his pants legs as the -
GHOST TRAIN -
bears down on the distressed truck playing a mournful whistle TUNE. Brandt panicking, strains to move the obstinate truck.
THE GHOST TRAINS' LAMP -
sways from side to side. It casts eerie shadows that make a mockery of the landscape. Muck BARKS repeatedly. THE GHOST ENGINE is upon us now, - BRANDT AD LIBS CUSSES, gives it all he has, then looks up.
BRANDT
Christ almighty. Stop, stop.
THE HEADLAMP -
plays across Brandt's face. He backs to the truck almost protectively. His body's shadow forms a cross on the hood. He grabs the shotgun and FIRES. An unseen force yanks the gun from his hand, it flies to the cowcatcher as -
MUCK -
grabs Brandt by the pants seat and yanks him into the nearby gully. Hero kicks through the trailer door -
BRANDT
That's everything I own.
(beat, rises, staggers forward)
Oh shit... Hero.
(the words hang)
- leaving the trailer door a twisted mass of metal.
THE GHOST TRAIN -
glides through the truck like a hot knife cutting butter. The ghostly apparition doesn't leave a scratch or make a sound. There is only the BEATING funeral dirge of the wheels turning their way towards hell.
THE GHOST TRAIN, -
ancient and draped in black, could have carried Lincoln to his grave. It glides down the track, haughtily pulling a long string of ornate and shrouded -
PASSENGER CARS.
Strange silhouettes of grotesque humanoid creatures are highlighted on the yellowed, drawn curtains. THE SHRILL, LAUGHING WHISTLE ECHOES THROUGH THE VALLEY. HERO gallops after the last car of the train an open air HORSE TRANSPORT which carries what appears to be -
THE FOUR HORSES OF THE APOCALYPSE. -
Chain-mailed and fire breathing nags use their demonic pull on Hero. Brandt runs after his horse.
BRANDT
Hero, get back here, you worthless nag.
Hero WHINNIES. The train plays the sneering mournful WHISTLE song again. Hero vanishes into the darkness. Brandt, panting, stops.
BRANDT (CONT'D)
God damn horse.. I saved him from the glue factory... Come on Muck... we'll find him tomorrow. He never had the brains of a chicken.
(Muck BARKS)
Damn, whatever that was... It had to be dredged from the pits of hell. Well at least the trucks all right.
With a last SNEERING WHISTLE the train vanishes from sight.
OVER A SERIES OF SHOTS:
IN THE TRUCK.
NERVIOULSY TOUCHING THE ARROW.
TRUCK STARTING ON THE FIRST TRY.
REACHING FOR THE RADIO KNOB.
FUMBLING WITH THE ROAD MAP.
FINGER LOOKING FOR NEAREST CIVILIZATION.
THE EERIE, PENSIVE JOURNEY DOWN THE ROAD.
A light flickers high in the hills ahead as a faint outline of the ghost train climbs toward it.
BRANDT
Must be an Indian campfire.
EXT. SATURNALIA, OPHIR MOUNTAINS - NIGHT
Under a full moon. JEZEBEL, an alabaster beauty and several other flimsily a
ttired DANCERS move alluringly around a craven idol of SATAN. In a crowd of sinister looking onlookers, DR. STANLEY, a distinguished looking man with greying temples and a chiseled face watches intently. He is the managing director of Ophir's mining company. A YOUNG VIRGIN is gagged and tied to a rock altar near the idol. Several crimson robed Satan worshippers move to the girl with knives held over their heads. Knives plunge.
EXT. STYLIZED SHOTS OF THE DESERT AND HIGH CHAPARRAL.
EXT. THE TRUCK - NIGHT
Jack rabbits scurry away from the headlights and disappear into the sage brush and barrel cactus. Brandt swerves away from an Armadillo crossing the road. Behind the moving truck a rattler slithers across the highway.
Over this series of ominous shots, appropriate music such as "GHOST RIDERS IN THE SKY" plays on the radio. The music is interspersed with the faint sounds of a the distant lonesome train whistle.
A coyote HOWLS in the distance.
THE MUSIC ENDS ON A GENTLE NOTE:
In the distance a single light illuminates a rickety, -
EXT. A DESERT SERVICE STATION - NIGHT
A relic, cluttered with ancient pumps, cans, ancient auto parts, crusty patches of oil and the effluvia of 50 years. The headlights pass over the sagging signs which read:
FLYING EAGLE GAS, LAST CHANCE.
SEE LIVE RATTLE SNAKES.
FISHING TACKLE AND BAIT.
SEE THE BABY RATTLER. ETC.
WOOLIE is an irascible and crusty old codger with a curly white beard and a dried apple doll face. He shields his eyes from the headlight glare. He moves tediously, back and forth in an old rocking chair that looks like it's going to break any second. Spewing rocks on a gravel driveway, the truck slides up and stops besides Woolie.
WOOLIE
Whoa bubba - you trying to kill me.
Brandt moves from the shadows. Woolie's expression changes from annoyance to one of almost recognition, then checks.
WOOLIE (CONT'D)
Ya bub, what can I do for ya. You look like you just seen a ghost.
BRANDT
Sorry mister. I did. I'm Looking for a place to stay. I'm on my way to Oper. I mean Ophir. Map says it's around here.
Brandt fumbles with the map.
WOOLIE
Yep. You're heading right for Ophir. Let me tell you son its one hell of a town. And I mean a HELL of a town. Little