Post by Dale on Nov 13, 2010 18:23:13 GMT -5
presents
FADE IN:
TITLE: "THE RIDER"
EXT. DESERT VALLEY - 1882 -- NIGHT
A burnt orange sunset.
The last rays of the day, setting over a desert.
Far as the eye can see. Sand and dirt in every direction.
Nothing on the horizon.
Lone plants sprout up from the crowd, the only sign of life
for miles it would appear. And even those look half dead,
wilted, deprived of water or rain in this desert.
The landscape is enough to dry spit in the air. Even Camel's
would find themselves in desperate need of water.
A FIGURE falls to the floor. His face pressed against the
ground.
He is weak, his breath shallow. He crawls forward, struggling
on.
The sun beats down on top of the MAN, his leather jacket
threatening to catch on fire any moment.
He pants heavily, struggling to catch his breath as his body
gives out on him. He rolls onto his back, shielding his eyes
from the sunlight with one hand, his other moving slowly down
to his abdomen.
He slides it underneath his shot before withdrawing it soon
after, blood trickling from his fingers, courtesy of the gun
shot wounds in his torso.
His name is WYATT "4-FINGER" FISHER.
The sky seems to blend into the landscape, everything fading.
In the distance, almost as if it were underwater he hears the
sound of Horses' hooves.
A shadows looms over him...
Nothing but dark.
CUT TO:
EXT. MAIN STREET - ABILENE, KANSAS -- NIGHT
A WESTERN TOWN, the type you've seen a hundred times before.
A line of wooden buildings, shack like in appearance.
Along with it is a LARGE VICTORIAN MANSION, belonging to a
man of the name CONRAD LEBOLD.
Candle lights flicker from some buildings, but the main
source of light comes from one place in particular.
A HORSE, bearing a RIDER and the injured Wyatt Fisher slowly
trots into town, immediately heading towards said building.
The Rider leaps down from his horse, guiding it towards the
building. He ties it up before hauling Wyatt of the horse and
onto his shoulders.
He steps towards the building.
INT. SALOON - ABILENE, KANSAS -- CONTINUOUS
The Rider carries Wyatt inside, looking around. He sees the
place is empty, but the signs of recent life are evident.
Mugs tankards, classes on all the tables. Candles still
burning down, the fire still surviving in all the lamps.
Playing cards and other such items lay scattered on the
floors.
The Rider places Wyatt down on the nearest chair and steps
deeper into the place.
His keen eyes dart from side to side, waiting for someone to
make themselves known.
Wyatt begins to groan and COUGH in pain.
The Rider turns towards him, taking his eyes off the rest of
the room for just a second...
Suddenly his body goes cold, the chill eliminating from the
STEEL SHOT GUN now being pressed against his neck.
The Rider raises his hands innocently as he slowly turns
towards his assailant...
He is surprised to see not a man, sheriff or outlaw wielding
the gun, but a WOMAN. She is dressed in a long dressed and
has king eyes, despite the threatening stance she has now.
She is MARY ANNE.
MARY ANNE
Who are you?
The Rider steps back but Mary Anne thrusts the shot gun
forward, warning him not to do so again.
MARY ANNE (CONT'D)
I asked a question sir and you will
answer me...
She continues to point the gun at the Rider who says nothing.
She looks past him, at Fisher who remains seated, his hand
clasped to his stomach.
He coughs again...
She motions with the Shotgun towards him...
MARY ANNE (CONT'D)
What's wrong with him?
Still the Rider doesn't say a word.
Mary Anne is become increasingly frustrated, and more than a
little intimidated by the Rider's stoic silence.
He stares her in the eye, neither scared or even a little
flustered by the gun pointing him between the eyes.
MARY ANNE (CONT'D)
Answer me god damn it.
Fisher's cough turns into a laugh.
FISHER
He don't have to answer you shit.
You ain't pulling that trigger.
Mary Anne's lip quivers. She knows Fisher is right and that
now SHE HAS to pull the trigger to prove him wrong.
Her hand shakes as it wraps around the trigger of her shot
gun. Her index finger touching the steel mechanism...
MARY ANNE
Just walk on out of here...
The Rider makes no effort to move.
Mary Anne's finger begins to ease down.
Suddenly, The Rider springs to life. He brushes the gun aside
and Mary Anne's shot goes astray. Straight into the wooden
floor.
He spins her around, pointing his COLT PEACEMAKER to her
temple.
Her breath becomes frantic, unsure what these men will do
with her...
FISHER
Please, I...
Before she can say another word. The Rider leans closer to
her ear to speak.
THE RIDER
I mean you no harm. And the other
ain't any condition to do you none.
Mary begins to calm herself down.
THE RIDER (CONT'D)
Now I'm gonna let you go.
Mary nods, although still held in The Rider's clutches.
Finally he releases her, holding up his gun as well as his
other hand, indicating that he does indeed mean her no arm as
he has stated.
Mary looks from the Rider then to Fisher. Not knowing what to
do.
MARY ANNE
What do you want?
The Rider lowers his hands, placing his gun back in his
holster.
THE RIDER
He's hurt. Shot in the stomach by
the looks of things.
Mary stares at Fisher. She has no doubt to the validity of
The Rider's statement. She can see the blood from the wound
herself, staining Fisher's jacket as well as his hands.
THE RIDER (CONT'D)
We just need room until he can
heal.
Mary nods once more.
MARY ANNE
Well we've got several upstairs.
Take your pick.
THE RIDER
Thank you ma'am.
The Rider heads towards Fisher, draping his arm over the
shoulder. He lights Fisher to his feet. As he does, Fisher
places his blood soaked hand on the chair in which he sits,
pushing himself to his feet.
He leaves a bloody hand print behind.
The Rider props Fisher up as Mary Anne looks on.
MARY ANNE
If there's anything else I can
do...
THE RIDER
Water. I'll need water. Any rags
you can spare. And whiskey..
MARY ANNE
Okay.
The Rider drags Fisher along, helping him across the Tavern
and to a stair case.
Mary Anne grabs a BOTTLE of WHISKEY.
They begin on their way up the stairs as Mary Anne heads
behind the bar, finding a metal basin.
CUT TO:
INT. SALOON, GUEST ROOM - ABILENE, KANSAS -- MOMENTS LATER
The Rider opens the door to the Guest Room dragging Fisher
into the room. He drops him down onto the bed before taking
off his jacket.
He stands over Fisher for a moment.
Fisher is in dire straits as his breathes heavily.
The Rider leans down as he rolls up his sleeves. He looks to
remove Fisher's clothing, allowing him access to the bullet
wound.
Fisher grabs him by the wrist.
FISHER
You have any idea who I am boy?
THE RIDER
Should I?
Fisher tries to sit up, The Rider forces him back down.
FISHER
The whore down stairs did.
The Rider pulls his arm free.
FISHER (CONT'D)
You wouldn't be helping me if you
did.
THE RIDER
Ain't that my decision to make?
CUT TO:
EXT. SALOON - ABILENE, KANSAS -- MOMENTS LATER
Mary Anne steps out of the Saloon the basin under her arm.
She heads toward a WATER PUMP off to one side.
She begins to fill the basin.
As she heads back towards the Saloon, she is disturbed by a
STALKER IN THE DARK...
SHERIFF
Mary Anne...
She gasps at the mention of her name, nearly spilling the
basin of water held in her hand.
She seems surprised to see THE SHERIFF standing nearby. He
puts his boot onto the deck outside of Saloon the SPUR
digging into the wood.
MARY ANNE
Sheriff.
Mary Anne backs away, trying not to look suspicious.
MARY ANNE (CONT'D)
Can I help you sir?
The Sheriff steps up onto the deck as Mary Anne's back hits
the swinging double doors of the Saloon.
SHERIFF
Some of the neighbors heard a
gunshot.
Mary Anne swallows hard...
MARY ANNE
That was my fault Sheriff. I was
startled is all.
SHERIFF
Startled by what exactly?
Mary Anne pushes back, through the doors and into the Salon.
She turns her back to the Sheriff.
INT. SALOON - ABILENE, KANSAS -- CONTINUOUS
The Sheriff follows her in.
MARY ANNE
Nothing much of anything really.
Mary Anne places the basin down on the table, taking a breath
as she turns towards the Sheriff.
Her eyes dart to the bullet hole in the floor.
MARY ANNE (CONT'D)
You can see plain as day. And
there's the gun over there on the
counter. Just my own self being
foolish is all.
The Sheriff has an inquisitive, rather intense stare in his
eyes. As if trying to stare the truth out of Mary Anne.
SHERIFF
See I thought it might have
something to do with that horse
tied up outside.
Mary Anne pauses.
MARY ANNE
Horse?
SHERIFF
You haven't had any visitors have
you? Of the unsavory sort
MARY ANNE
Visitors? None at all sir.
The Sheriff stares at Mary Anne, obviously not buying a word
Mary Anne is saying.
CUT TO:
INT. SALOON, GUEST ROOM - ABILENE, KANSAS -- MOMENTS LATER
The Rider rips Fisher's shirt revealing the gunshot wound.
The Rider steps back as he examines it...
Fisher groans with pain.
He closes his eyes tightly, sweating bullets. His wound
likely infected by now...
The Rider takes the bottle, pulling a cork out of it with his
teeth.
He lowers the bottle to the wound, tilting it carefully. The
liquor begins to pour out over the wound and Fisher
immediately responds to the stinging sensation,.
The Rider covers Fisher's mouth, preventing his scream from
being heard downstairs
CUT TO:
INT. SALOON - ABILENE, KANSAS -- MOMENTS LATER
The Sheriff hears the sound coming from upstairs. He glances
up, unsure of whether he heard what he thought he just heard.
Mary Anne can see they may be in trouble. And quickly
interjects.
MARY ANNE
Will that be all SHERIFF?
The Sheriff pauses as he returns his gaze to Mary Anne.
SHERIFF
For now...
He tips his hat as he turns towards the entrance to the
Saloon. His glance is caught by the blood stained chair
Fisher had been sitting on.
Mary's eyes travel to it herself. She waits to see what
happens next.
CUT TO:
INT. SALOON, GUEST ROOM - ABILENE, KANSAS -- MOMENTS LATER
The Rider finally releases Fisher.
Seconds later, Mary Anne enters the room, carrying the basin
and rags.
The Rider approaches, offering to take it from her.
THE RIDER
Let me...
MARY ANNE
I can manage.
She sets it down. And takes a rag, dabbing it in the water.
She begins to wipe the blood away from the wound.
MARY ANNE (CONT'D)
He's in bad shape.
She continued her work as The Rider peers from the door,
looking down at the Saloon below.
THE RIDER
Downstairs, who was that?
MARY ANNE
The Sheriff.
THE RIDER
You didn't tell him we were here?
MARY ANNE
No.
THE RIDER
Why wouldn't you?
MARY ANNE
You haven't shot me.
The Rider pauses.
THE RIDER
And he has?
Mary Anne says nothing but as she turns away, The Rider can't
help but noticed the limp in her step now.
Fisher's groans remind the pair why they're there.
She resumes trying to clean Fisher's wound.
THE RIDER (CONT'D)
Move aside...
Mary Anne does so as The Rider dips his hands into the basin.
He shakes them dry before looking at Mary Anne with a serious
expression on his face.
THE RIDER (CONT'D)
Hold his shoulders down.
Mary Anne nods and does her best to pin Fisher's shoulders to
the bed.
The Rider takes a breath before using his fingers to dig the
bullet out of Fisher's wound.
Fisher writhes and screams in agony as The Rider claws at the
bullet lodged in his hip.
Finally The Rider pulls it free and deposits it in the basin
of water...
INT. SALOON - ABILENE, KANSAS -- LATER
The Rider returns down the stairs, as the Barmaid Mary Anne
wipes glasses with a rag.
MARY ANNE
You know who you've got up there?
The Rider looks at her. Again not responding.
MARY ANNE (CONT'D)
Whose life you're trying to save.
He approaches the Bar, pulling a stool out.
MARY ANNE (CONT'D)
Who you brought into my place.
He unfastens his belt, laying it on the bar in front of him.
Guns in the Holsters attached.
THE RIDER
I very much do.
Mary Anne seems almost surprised.
MARY ANNE
And you're trying to save him
anyway?
He places the whiskey bottle Mary Anne gave him earlier on
the bar
She places down a shot glass beside it before pouring him a
glass. Mary Anne slides it to him.
He accepts it, and soon the liquor finds itself poured
quickly down his throat.
THE RIDER
That'd be right.
MARY ANNE
There's a reward ain't there?
The Rider shakes his head as Mary Anne pours him another shot
of whiskey.
THE RIDER
Just trying to be a good Samaritan.
Mary Anne scoffs with laughter.
MARY ANNE
Maybe in biblical times sir. But
excuse me for saying. This ain't
biblical times. Here, folk know two
things. Dying of thirst, and
getting shot.
THE RIDER
And what'll take you, in your
estimation?
MARY ANNE
I work in a bar ... Whichever comes
first.
The Rider smiles as lifts the glass, once again downing his
drink.
FADE OUT.
