Friday, April 13, 2012

Clark's Logs, Session 6

EXT. MONTANA WILDERNESS - LATE AFTERNOON

CLARK can be seen wearing outdoor gear, with a day pack and sturdy hiking boots.  He seems to be roaming through a small forest in a valley somewhere.  His rifle is unslung, and he holds it nervously, like a man who is anxiously rehearsing everything he ever knew about shooting in his head but has never been called upon to use this knowledge in a life-or-death situation.  He casts nervous glances at the surrounding woods.  A rustle in the leaves catches his eye and he levels his weapon at it.  It turns out to be a RED SQUIRREL, nosing about for food.

CLARK
Yikes.  I need to get a grip.  I almost shot
you, just then.

SQUIRREL
Cheep?

CLARK
Sorry, I’m not normally this jumpy.  It’s been a
long day, to say the least.

The SQUIRREL, seemingly not bothered by CLARK’s presence, goes back to hopping about in the leaf litter and occasionally pausing to dig or sniff at something.  CLARK slumps against a tree trunk.

CLARK
What did I think I was going to find up here?
I don’t know.  A secret Word of Blake project,
where they were hurting some kind of animal and
turning it into a weapon.  I couldn’t allow that.
I thought I could help the ComGuard set it right,
you know?  Now everything’s gone pear-shaped.

SQUIRREL
*Scritch scritch scritch*

CLARK
Too much digging can get you into trouble,
I guess.  We came up to Montana like it was
just another of Simon’s and my camping trips.
I guess at first, I thought it WOULD be just like
that.  Shows what I know, huh?

SQUIRREL
*Hop*

CLARK
We stopped in this local bar and got info on
where those campers disappeared.  Figure either
some poor animal escaped their facility, or they’re
doing tests.  Either way, we could learn something
from what we found.  We followed the directions to
a little ravine not far from here.  Thank goodness
for all-wheel drive, I tell you what.

SQUIRREL
Chip cheeep!

The SQUIRREL darts behind a tree.  CLARK, recognizing the squirrel’s alarm call, glances around wildly, only to spot the silhouette of a goshawk sweeping swiftly overhead.  He lets loose a long, slow breath.

CLARK
God, this is awful.  How did I get in this mess?
We were checking out some weird claw gouges
and what looked like chemical burns in the rock,
when all of a sudden, the police showed up.

SQUIRREL
Chirrrrr.

CLARK
You said it.  I almost surrendered right then.  I’ve
never been so scared in my entire life.  I hit the dirt,
but I heard bullets fly and men screaming.  When
I looked up, Simon had rushed the commanding
officer, the dang fool!  The man was not happy, and he
was armed.  The ComGuard can look after their own mess,
but Simon?  He’s my friend.  We’re supposed to be in this
together.  I got up and I took aim.  God help me, I pointed
my gun at another human being with intent to kill.

The SQUIRREL clambers up the trunk of a tree and leaps away to the next, and then the next, leaving CLARK standing alone.

CLARK
I couldn’t save the injured officers.  They’d
lost too much blood, their injuries were too
severe.  Alex’s hand is broken.  Now we have them
tied to trees, dead and alive alike.  What have I done?
Who are these men?  What am I supposed to do
now?  If I could just take it all back...

CLARK stares into the distance wistfully, looking twice his age and incredibly tired.  He blinks blearily, shakes his head, and sets his jaw.

CLARK
No.  I’ve come too far now.  I need to make sure
everyone gets out of here alive.  And there still could
be some poor critter out there who needs my help.  I’ve
thrown in my lot, and that means I can’t throw in the
towel.  Not yet.

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