77 INTERIOR: THE CELL, WITH LINOGE NIGHT.
Still facedown on his bunk, arms wrapped around his head, MUTTERING RAPIDLY. CHANTING.
MIKE doesn't know what's going on, but he knows it's bad news.
MIKE Stop it, Linoge!
LINOGE pays no attention. If anything, the RAPID MUMBLE of his words SPEEDS UP.
78 EXTERIOR: THE BACK STOOP OF THE TOWN HALL NIGHT.
CAT is gone, but we can see her tracks where she turned around and headed back to the supply shed again.
V
The cane is gone, too. Blowing snow is rapidly softening the edges of the hole where its barrel was shoved into the snowbank.
79 INTERIOR: THE SUPPLY SHED, FEATURING BILLY NIGHT.
He's squatting to one side of the toboggan, which is now completely loaded. He spreads a piece of tarp over the goods, then begins to secure this with a couple of pieces of elasticized cord.
We can't see the doorway from this angle, but we see the SHADOW SHAPE that falls over him . . .
and we also see the SHADOW OF THE CANE when it extends itself from the human shape and begins to rise. The movement attracts BILLY'S eye, as well. He shifts position . . . looks up ...
80 INTERIOR: CAT WITHERS, FROM BILLY'S POINT OF VIEW NIGHT. Transformed into an avenging harpy. Her lips are pulled back from her
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teeth in a snarl. She is holding the cane by its foot, with the wolf's head protruding.
She SCREAMS and brings the cane down.
81 INTERIOR: LINOGE, FACEDOWN ON THE CELL COT.
SCREAMING TRIUMPHANTLY into the pillow, with his arms still wrapped around his head.
82 INTERIOR: THE CONSTABLE'S OFFICE, WIDER.
MIKE backs away from the cell door, UNNERVED. The other four men are pressed together like sheep in a hailstorm. All of them are TERRIFIED. LINOGE CONTINUES SCREAMING.
83 EXTERIOR: ANGLE ON THE SUPPLY SHED NIGHT.
From out here, we can't see what's happening, and that's probably good. We can see CAT'S
SHADOW, however . . . and the shadow of the cane, rising and falling, rising and falling.
FADE TO BLACK. THIS ENDS ACT 2.
ActS
84 EXTERIOR: THE LIGHTHOUSE NIGHT.
The tide, now on the ebb, sends up explosions of FOAMY WATER, but the searchlight continues to swing around. Some of the windows at the top are broken out, but the lighthouse has won out over the storm. For now, anyway.
85 EXTERIOR: THE DISPLAY WINDOW OF THE ISLAND DRUGSTORE NIGHT.
The aisles of the store are filling up with snow, and it's started to coat the glass over the face of 147
the pendulum clock, but we can still read the time: 8:47.
86 INTERIOR: A CORNER OF THE TOWN HALL BASEMENT, WITH MOLLY.
She's in a wing chair in one corner, with a pair of Walkman earphones on. They're on crooked and slipping down further all the time. We can hear THE FAINT SOUND OF CLASSICAL MUSIC. MOLLY is fast asleep.
Hands reach into the frame and take off the headphones. When this happens, MOLLY opens her eyes. There's a girl of about seventeen standing beside her. ANNIE smiles, a bit embarrassed, and holds out the headphones.
ANNIE HUSTON Want 'em back? They were, like, slipping off.
MOLLY
No, thanks, Annie. With those things I always end up asleep and listening to Schubert on my fillings.
She gets up, stretches, then puts the Walkman on the seat of the chair. The part of the downstairs that serves as an activity area has been curtained off from the sleeping area, which we can see through the gap
174
f
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in the makeshift draw curtains. The KIDS are all sleeping, now, and a few adults have turned in, as well.
There's a TV against one wall of the activity area. About forty people are gathered around it, some sitting on the floor, some in folding wooden Bingo chairs, some standing at the back. The TV is broadcasting a FUZZY PICTURE that shows the weatherman from WVII, the Bangor ABC affiliate.
Standing beside the TV and turning the rabbit ears this way and that, hoping for a better picture (pretty much a lost cause, I'm afraid) is LUCIEN FOURNIER, a good-looking man of about thirty in a reindeer sweater. He's one of JACK CARVER'S gay-bashing buddies.
WEATHER GUY
At this time the storm is continuing to build, with the greatest concentrations of snow in the coastal and central areas. We here at Channel Seven find the numbers almost impossible to believe, but Machias is already reporting a fresh foot and a half . . . this is without the drift factor, remember, and zero visibility. No traffic is on the roads, (laughs) Hey, what roads, right? Conditions in Bangor are nearly as bad, with power outages reported all up and down the grid. Brewer is entirely dark, and in Southwest Harbor, a church steeple has reportedly blown over. It's bad out there, and we haven't seen the peak of the storm yet. This is one you'll be telling your grandchildren about . . . and they probably won't believe you. Every now and then I have to look out the newsroom window to believe it myself.
Standing near the back of the crowd, peering around the other standees, is URSULA GODSOE.
MOLLY taps her on the shoulder, and URSULA turns to her, unsmiling.
MOLLY
(nods toward the TV) What're they saying?
URSULA
Howl and blast followed by blast and howl. Such condition to continue
