Dark Horse

SCENE TWO

FADE IN:

EXTERIOR: THE HORSE PARK AT EQUESTRIAN ESTATES-SUNSET

Wide open spaces on three sides. Trees and a canal at the back of the property. A paved road curves past the front. No one in sight, but the cops are there, hidden.

A black car approaches and parks at the gate. Bruce Seabright gets out of the car and looks around. He looks pissed off and nervous. He thinks it's a trap.

He's right.

He opens the trunk and takes out two large blue duffel bags. He heaves the bags over the gate, then climbs over, picks the bags up, and looks around again. He's looking for a sign, for a person. Maybe he's even looking for Erin, though he would be just as happy if he never saw her again.

He starts walking up the drive toward the building, reluctantly. He has the expression of a man who will wet his pants at the first sudden loud noise.

Halfway to the building he stops and stands and waits. Slowly he turns around in a circle. He wonders what will happen next. He sets the bags down and checks his watch.

6:05 P.M.

Darkness is closing in. The security light comes on with a loud humming sound. The voice, the same mechanically altered voice from the phone calls, comes over the loudspeakers.

THE VOICE

Leave the bags on the ground.

BRUCE

Where's the girl?

THE VOICE

Leave the bags on the ground.

BRUCE

I want to see Erin!

THE VOICE

In the box. Ring one. In the box. Ring one.

BRUCE

What box? Which ring?

He is agitated, doesn't know which way to turn. He doesn't like not having control. He doesn't want to leave the money. He looks at the two rings nearest the building and chooses the one to his right. He takes the bags with him and goes to stand at the corner of the ring.

BRUCE

What box? I don't see any box!

He stands there, impatient. It's getting darker by the second. He stares for a moment at the judge's booth-a small wooden shelter-at the end of the ring, then goes toward it.

BRUCE

Erin? Erin!

He circles the booth cautiously. Someone might jump out and shoot him or stab him. Erin's body might fall out onto the ground.

Nothing happens.

He inches toward the door, pulls it open, jumps back.

Nothing happens.

BRUCE

Erin? Are you in there?

No answer.

Slowly, he sets the bags on the ground and inches toward the booth again, eventually stepping inside. There is no one in the booth. A videotape cassette has been left on the floor. Written in black block letters on a white label on the tape: PUNISHMENT.

THE VOICE

You broke the rules. The girl has paid the price.

Cops come out of the woodwork. Several charge up the stairs of the building. They pry the lock off the door, kick the door in, burst into the room shouting with guns drawn. The beams of their flashlights bob and sweep around the room. There is no one there.

As they approach the console of audio equipment situated under the bank of windows that allow full view of the grounds, they spot the simple timer that turned the machines on at precisely 6:05 P.M.

The tape is still playing.

THE VOICE

You broke the rules. The girl has paid the price. You broke the rules. The girl has paid the price.

The voice echoes across the emptiness of the night.

FADE OUT