The Passage

campfire, looking first at their watches and then at each other. Frank and

Danny compare times, then stare at each other. Danny says,

10:16

And Frank’s concurs.

10:14

Danny goes to check the clock in his car, which also reads 10:16. He says,

Whatever it is, it’s made all the clocks fast. We’ll

probably hear about it later on the news. Weird!

Jane is stirring last night's campfire, adding kindling, and puts some water

on for coffee. Having no explanation for why their clocks are wrong, and not

wanting to admit to themselves how frightened they are, the campers joke

around. Jane says,

Everything looks better after a cup of coffee.

Frank smirks and says,

Yeah, we’re all still just dreaming.

Daisy is sitting on a rock, a slight frown on her face, blinking and saying

nothing, not willing to let go of her anxiety. Gradually the dawn rises, and

the group shows their obvious relief. Daisy brightens like the rising Sun when

the light of dawn shows, her face almost estatic.

Oh, there’s the Sun!

27

_______________________________

Back at the Daily News in Newark, New Jersey, Zack Maya, the newspaper editor,

is frantic, red in the face with anger, and standing as he phones a friend

from his office as he is too agitated to sit. He is looking at his watch and

where it appears to be dawn outside, his watch and the clock on the wall say

1:07 pm. He shouts into the phone.

What the hell's going on! You told me there wasn't any

danger, you asshole. I did what you asked me to do,

now what are you going to do about this!

It becomes apparent that the other party hung up on him. The editor is holding

the phone away from his ear, staring at it, then muttering under his breath

and hanging it up, looking decidedly despondent. The sound of beeping traffic

and hysterical shouting can be heard out the window.

_______________________________

The clock at the New York Stock Exchange reads 1:11 pm. Life goes on, even in

the face of the inexplicable. On the trading floor of the Stock Exchange,

there are shouts and traders running to and fro with mobile cell phones to

their ears, but the floor is uncharacteristically empty and quiet. Traders

and dealers are standing around, staring at the big clock which now reads

1:11.

There is some trading going on. Some shouts and people running around with

mobile cell phones, but a lot of traders and dealers are just standing and

staring at the big clock reading 1:11. People talk with each other, gesturing

and pointing excitedly. Small groups watch TV monitors hanging from wires on

the floor. CNN team talks about the daybreak being hours late.

.. scientists have yet to come up with an explanation

for why this day is getting a late start. Most

businesses and schools are operating at their normal

schedule, but the confusion has ..

Out on the busy street outside, in Times Square, a drug dealer who would

normally move through the crowd rapidly, making his contacts and moving to

safer streets, stands with his back against a brick wall, eyes scanning the

sky, cigarette in hand. A bum comes up to bum a smoke.

Got some smokes, man?

He is absentmindedly handed the entire pack by the dealer, complete with

lighter. The dealer pulls out a joint and turns to the bum, asking for a

light, apparently forgetting that he just handed the bum the pack and lighter,

distracted.

28

Hey! Gimme a light, would ya?

Cars are stalled and people are looking out their windows at the sky. A group

of farm kids get off a bus and look around in a big huddle.

So this is New York? Boy, they sure do have traffic

jams! Mom was right!

An executive in a dark gray suit steps out of a cab, smooth black briefcase in

hand. He notices a fine red dust powdering the sidewalk, and squats to pick

up a pinch between his fingers, rubbing his fingers together. The fine dust

is everywhere now - blowing off the tops of moving cars, settling into cracks

in the sidewalks, and coming down onto the anxious up-turned faces like a fine

mist.

_______________________________

It’s now 11:30 am in the Rockies. At the campground, the fine red dust is

powdering everything, but this passes notice due to being scattered by the

branches overhead. Danny has come back from picking up groceries at the local

Stop-n-Shop, and goes to open the trunk, finding that his finger leaves a mark

on the trunk lid. He runs a finger through the dust, staring at the tip,

puzzled.

Frank is returning from the stream, fishing pole in hand but otherwise empty

handed.

The stream is turning red, like blood, and the fish

are bobbing up one after another, belly up, dying from

whatever it is.

Daisy puts her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide open, an anxious look in her