THE WELL

an original screenplay by

Brian M. Logan & David J. Sakmyster

7d Draft - FINAL

Agent: William Morris EndeavorManagement: Circle of Confusion

Entertainment Attorney: Katz Golden Rosenman

ThatActionGuy.com - Sakmyster.com

FADE IN

EXT. DESERT - DAY

WATER bubbles from a small cleft in the ochre desert sand.

ROB MARTIN (29), a muscular outdoors type, fills up hiscanteen before putting it to his parched lips.

NATALIE (19) and SUZY (19), a pair of athletic collegesophomores, stand close by. All three of them carry heavybackpacks and sweat profusely in the sweltering desert heat.

ROBNot much further now.

He points toward a HUGE FINGER OF ROCK, two hundred feethigh, situated about five miles distant. Natalie gives therock a cursory glance before taking Rob's canteen off himand pouring water on her head and face.

NATALIEThis cave better be everything yousay it is, Rob. I'm giving up springbreak for this shit.

SUZYDamn straight.

ROB(to Natalie)

Relax Princess, nobody's been inthese caves for hundreds of years.

He wipes sweat from his brow, his gaze distant.

ROB (CONT'D)Maybe never.

EXT. VERTICAL CAVE ENTRANCE – LATER

Rob, Natalie and Suzie stand before a vertical cave thatvanishes down into the bowels of hell. All three are nowdecked out in their full spelunking gear. Natalie peersover the edge of the cave.

NATALIEDamn. Smells like something dieddown there.

ROBRegretting not going to Lake Tahoeare we?

2.The Well - WRITING SAMPLE - Copyright Brian M Logan

Natalie flicks on her helmet lamp --

NATALIEYou wish, old man.

-- and jumps straight over the edge.

INT. VERTICAL CAVE - MOMENTS LATER

The three of them rappel down the center of the verticalcave. About halfway down, Natalie sweeps her light alongthe walls and reveals crude PICTOGRAMS of what appear to benative American Indians battling some kind of bi-pedal, wingedcreatures, against the backdrop of a weeping sun.

Slowing her descent, Natalie takes out a digital camera fromher backpack and snaps a pic for posterity.

NATALIENice.

INT. DESCENDING PASSAGE – LATER

Moving single file, they make their way through aclaustrophobic and rapidly descending passage. Eerie shadowselongate off the jagged walls, casting monsters at everyturn.

ROBStay close. God only knows how deepthis thing goes.

INT. MASTER CAVERN - MUCH LATER

After many hours of walking they enter a space of completedarkness, their flashlights little more than pinpricks inthe void.

Rob edges forward until the beam of his flashlight hits theEDGE OF A MASSIVE UNDERGROUND LAKE.

ROBHoly shit. This place must be huge!

They peer out over the WATER, their attention drawn to what'sfloating on the surface of the lake and giving off a green,LUMINESCENT GLOW.

SUZYWhat are those green things? Arethey leaves? How do they grow allthe way down here?

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ROBDamned if I know.

THE LEAVES in question rest on the surface of the water likelily pads. Three feet wide by two feet long, they aretranslucent and have a network of thin stems snaking beneaththem.

Natalie takes off her helmet, then - without a shred ofmodesty - pulls off her shirt and sports bra.

NATALIEWho cares? It's water and it's cold. That's good enough for me.

Suzy shrugs at Rob, who stares open mouthed.

SUZYGuess we're doing spring break afterall!

Suzie sets her helmet down, then takes her shirt off too. Rob watches in awe as both girls get completely naked andwade out into the water.

ROB(to himself)

This is so going in my blog...

INT. MASTER CAVERN - MOMENTS LATER

Natalie and Suzy splash around in the water like a couple ofkids. Natalie stops for a moment and eyes Rob, who's stillstanding on the shore enjoying the show.

NATALIEYou planning on joining us anytimesoon? Stud.

Rob doesn't need to be asked twice and quickly starts toundress. Natalie and Suzy wolf-whistle appreciatively.

Suddenly -- something BURSTS OUT OF THE WATER in a BLUR oftranslucent skin, leathery WINGS and snapping FANGS!

And - just like that - it's over, and both girls are pulledunderwater before they've even got time to scream. Rob,half undressed, looks across the empty lake.

ROBYeah, yeah, very funny. You want Ishould stand here for a couple ofminutes to see if you surface?

(MORE)

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ROB (CONT'D)Or is this the scenario when I getall macho and swim out and "rescueyou"?

(long beat)Girls?

It's only then that he hears the beating of WINGS above hishead. But by then it's too late --

SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. DESERT - MORNING

THE DESERT REFLECTED IN THE WATERY EYE OF A BUZZARD.

The lone bird is perched high on Finger Mountain. After amoment it TAKES FLIGHT.

The bird's POV of the desolate landscape below REVEALS:

A shiny 7-SERIES BMW traveling along a dusty highway towarda (CIRCULAR) WALLED AND GATED COMMUNITY FOR THE ÜBER RICH.

SUPER: DESERT SPRINGS, NEW MEXICO - CHRISTMAS EVE.

Gliding on the hot desert wind, the buzzard soars over thethe PICTURE PERFECT HOMES with the Spanish-tiled rooftopsand the manicured lawns. Over the people walking their dogsand riding their bikes through streets decorated withCHRISTMAS LIGHTS and seasonal pageantry. Over the bank, thebowling alley, the RECREATION CENTER. Before eventuallycoming to rest on the highest aerial atop the COMMUNICATIONSTOWER, as if preparing itself for dinner to be served.

INT. JAKE'S BEDROOM - MORNING

JAKE MITCHELL (37), fair hair, blue eyes, bare-chested, staresinto a full length mirror and doesn't like what he sees.

To the casual observer he's got the look of a once great all-American hunk whose best days are behind him. And knows it. Oh sure, there's still enough muscle to turn a woman's head,but now his eyes are haunted and he's weighed down by demonsonly an enlisted man can carry.

A MILITARY TATTOO on his right biceps of an eagle perchedatop of planet Earth with the letters USMC beneath it, letsus know where the demons came from.

After easing into a pressed grey shirt, he straps on a gunbelt and reaches into the top draw of his bedroom dresser. For a second it looks like he's going to pick up the VALIUMBOTTLE that's lying on top of his neatly folded T-Shirts.

5.The Well - WRITING SAMPLE - Copyright Brian M Logan

But - after a moment - he pushes the bottle aside and pullsout a silver Glock 19 from under the stack of clothes.

THE GUN TREMBLES IN HIS HAND.

He breathes deep, steadies the shaking as best he can, thenputs the weapon into its holster.

As he closes the drawer his gaze falls on the sole object ontop of the dresser:

A FRAMED PHOTOGRAPH of a slightly younger Jake, his arm drapedover an older and taller black man's shoulders. Both menare dressed in US military desert fatigues, and are back-dropped by a dozen other US MARINES.

Jake reaches over and tilts the photograph face-down on thedresser. Some days the past should stay behind you.

INT. JAKE'S KITCHEN – LATER

A small TV sits on the counter playing a MORNING NEWS PROGRAMwhere a PRETTY GINGER-HAIRED REPORTER stands in front of aline of people waiting at a soup kitchen.

GINGER HAIRED REORTER - ON TV-- and for the many out of work SantaFe natives, all they'll have to lookforward to this Christmas is themeager pickings found at kind-heartedplaces like this.

(beat)Whether the coming year breaks theircycle of poverty is hard to know. But, as I always say, "We'll allfind out in a New Mexico Minute". This is Emma Flynn, signing off forKMWV, and wishing you all the verybest for this holiday season.

Jake turns off the TV, pins a gold DESERT SPRINGS SECURITYbadge on his shirt, and heads for the door.

EXT. MAIN STREET - MORNING

Jake peddles his mountain bike down Main Street. He passesJOE'S DINER and the RECREATION CENTER, then circles around alarge decorative stone WELL sign-posted as 'Well 1'.

Various LOCALS nod or wave in Jake's direction as he passes.

Turning his bike west he heads toward the main gates.

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INT. BMW – CONTINUOUS

The 7-Series BMW speeds toward Desert Springs. At the wheelis MONTY BLAKE (65), the community's principal developer andincumbent mayor. He is impeccably dressed in a pin-stripedthree piece suit which presses against his heavy-set frame.

In the back seat reading a comic book and listening to musicon his iPod, is CHARLIE JENKINS (12), Monty's grandson. Stick-thin, Charlie has ginger hair, freckles, thick glasses,and seems uncomfortable in his own skin.

MONTYCharlie-boy, we're almost there.

(beat)So look, anyways, when we get insideI've got some things to do, so you'regonna need to play nice and entertainyourself. Ok?

He glances back, but the boy is obliviously nodding his headin time to unheard music.

MONTY (CONT'D)Charlie, Goddamn it, will you listento me when I'm talking to you!

Charlie still doesn't look up. Monty curses under his breathand puts his foot on the gas.

MONTY (CONT'D)(to himself)

Damn kid. Every bit as useless ashis old man.

Charlie's eyes flick forward. He heard that. Monty'sattention goes back to the road as he approaches the 'Welcometo Desert Springs' marquee and ostentatious main gates.

EXT. SECURITY OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER

The main gates open to let the BMW in.

Jake parks his mountain bike opposite the gates. The BMWslows as it approaches him, and the driver's side windowslides down. Monty gives Jake a scornful look.

MONTYWhere's Danny?

JAKENice to see you too, sir.

Charlie pops his head out the back window.

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CHARLIEHey, Jake!

JAKEHey yourself, Charlie. Good to seeyou again.

(to Monty)Staying with you for Christmas?

MONTYMy lucky day. Kid's deadbeat father'sgiving Suzie grief again; so yeah,he's staying. Anyway, I need Danny.

The door to the Security Office opens and COLONEL DANNYPATTERSON (60) - the black guy from the photograph on Jake'sbedroom dresser - steps out, wincing at the sunlight. It'sbarely 9 am and he's already had the hair of the dog. Notthat you'd call him on it mind you, as the guy's easily 6'5"and built like a linebacker.

DANNYRight here, Monty. What do you need?

MONTYThere's a reporter from Santa Fe onher way here. Wants to do a pieceon the rejuvenating qualities of thewater from our Wells.

DANNYOn Christmas Eve? What kind ofreporter does a fluff piece likethat on Christmas Eve?

MONTYDunno. Why don't you ask heryourself. She'll be here within thehour.

Danny and Jake share a look.

MONTY (CONT'D)And I don't need to spell out howbadly we need some positive publicityto kick-start investment again, orwe'll all be out of a job. So makesure you give her the five star tour. But for God sake's --

(looking at Jake)-- don't say anything to damage ourreputation.

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DANNYGotcha.

The BMW pulls away. Charlie cranes his neck out the windowand waves to Jake as it leaves. Danny takes a hip-flaskfrom his back pocket and offers it to Jake.

JAKENo thanks. Someone's got to be soberenough to look after this place.

Danny shrugs, takes a hit.

DANNYSuit yourself. Anyway, I'm going toget some shut-eye. Been a long night.

(stretching / yawning)Man I fucking hate night shifts.

(beat)Don't wake me unless there's anearthquake or an 'Act of God'.

JAKEBut what about the reporter? Montyjust said --

DANNYHe said for me to handle it. I'mhandling it by giving it to you.

JAKESo I'm a babysitter now too?

DANNYMore like a tour guide.

Danny takes another swig of whiskey.

DANNY (CONT'D)Just, you know, don't bring upanything about the rash offoreclosures, and --

JAKEYeah, yeah, I got it already.

Danny nods, absentmindedly staring toward Finger Mountain,which is situated about five miles due east. The sun isRISING ABOVE IT, and though it's still early, it's alreadygetting way too bright for a fella with a hangover to dealwith.

Danny raises his hand to cover his eyes, and - as he does so -two DOG TAGS pop out from his partially unbuttoned shirt.

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JAKE (CONT'D)You ever planning on taking thoseoff, Colonel?

DANNYNot until they pry 'em from my cold,dead corpse, Captain.

He lays a meaty hand on Jake's shoulder.

DANNY (CONT'D)Stop by the Tavern after your shifttoday, ok? We'll have some beers,watch the Spurs and just, you know.

Jake nods.

DANNY (CONT'D)Good man.

EXT. MAIN STREET – MORNING

Monty's BMW drives down Main Street, then turns onto anadjacent side-street.

INT. BMW – CONTINUOUS

Monty sticks his hand out of the driver's side window andwaves to a crazy-haired woman who is sitting on a chairoutside of 'Madame Zelda's Astrological Boudoir'.

MONTYMorning Zelda!

ZELDA waves back, all smiles and Latin curls.

Monty rounds another corner, then drives a ways before slowingin front of Desert Spring's lone GAS STATION.

A sign out the front reads: 'OUT OF GAS'.

MONTY (CONT'D)Son of a bitch!

He pulls right up to the gas station's front door and isgreeted by a handwritten note that reads: 'GONE TO SANTA FEFOR CHRISTMAS, BACK IN TWO DAYS - Earl'.

MONTY (CONT'D)Goddamn it, Earl, I'll have your assin a sling for this!

He pulls out of the gas station, tires SQUEALING, and pressesa speed-dial button on his cell phone.

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INT. SECURITY OFFICE – CONTINUOUS

The Security Office is a large open plan room with severaldesks, computers, and a wall full of state-of-the-art LCDscreens showing the POVs of the hundreds of cameras thatmonitor the community 24/7.

Jake is chugging down a protein shake and standing in frontof a 65" LCD screen with an intricate CGI MAP OF DESERTSPRINGS on it. The FIVE ZONES OF DEVELOPMENT and the FIVEWELLS (four of them LIT UP) in the donut shaped settlementare clearly visible.

There's a green dot of light on the screen for every securitycamera, but: THERE ISN'T A SINGLE GREEN DOT IN ZONE 5.

Two other SECURITY GUARDS fill out the rest of the room,along with TRISH ELLINGTON (55), a feisty Radio Operator whois busying herself with the latest issue of The NationalEnquirer.

A phone RINGS. Trish checks the Caller ID.

TRISHUh oh Jake, it's the Fatman. Youwant to --

JAKENope. Not a chance.

Trish rolls her eyes and hits the speaker phone:

TRISHSecurity, this is Trish.

-- and is confronted by a torrent of abuse!

MONTY (O.S.)Trish, goddamn it all to hell, wherethe fuck is that fuel tanker? Itwas due here first thing this morning!

TRISHI know, I know, calm down already! Tate called in a couple of hours agoand said he broke down outside ofAlbuquerque, but he's back on theroad now and should be here by noon.

MONTY (O.S.)Noon you say? Well that's just fan-fucking-tastic isn't it?

(MORE)

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MONTY (O.S.) (CONT'D)Shame Earl's taken off for two daysand won't be here to unload the gasuntil he gets back! How the hellare people supposed to fill up now!

TRISHHey, don't take it out on me, Earldidn't leave on my watch! I onlyjust --