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The Ruins Movie Script

Writer(s) : Scott Smith

Genres : Horror, Thriller

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                                    THE RUINS

          
                                    Written by

                                   Scott Smith

          

          

          

          

          FADE IN ON:

          EXT. CANCUN HOTEL - SWIMMING POOL - DAY

          The hotel is six stories high, a wall of glass and stucco.
          Beach chairs are arrayed around the pool's edge; sunbathers
          lie sprawled across them. A short boardwalk leads toward the
          Gulf of Mexico: the white sand, the blue water.
          Four young Americans are encamped near the pool's edge;
          they're all in their early twenties. AMY lies face down on a
          chaise, eyes shut, a cooler beside her. She's petite, with
          short blond hair, her skin pinkly sunburned.
          ERIC sits in the chair beside her, studying the Cliff Notes
          for The Canterbury Tales. He's leanly muscular, with dark
          curly hair. Other Cliff Notes lie scattered beneath his
          chair: Antigone, A Separate Peace, Hea rt of Darkness, 1984.

          JEFF and STACY sit on the far side of the cooler; they're
          playing gin. Stacy, too, is petite, with short hair, though
          hers,. is dark. She's wearing a pale blue bikini, and has a
          beer bottle in her hand. She looks a little bored.
          Jeff is tall, scrawny. Like Eric, he has a pair of swim
          trunks on, and is deeply tanned. He's very focused, frowning
          down at his cards.

          STACY
          We should play War. It's more fun.
          Jeff takes a card from his hand, lays it down on the table.

          JEFF
          That's not even a game.

          STACY
          Sure it is. I'll teach you.
          She starts-to fold her hand,'but Jeff shakes his head.

          JEFF
          I know how to play. I mean it's
          just chance--there's no skill
          involved.

          Stacy frowns down at her hand, silenced. She picks a card
          from the deck, immediately discards it. Jeff snatches it up,
          lays down one of his own. Stacy stares at it in dismay.

          STACY
          But I keep losing.

          

          

          

          

          2.

          JEFF
          'Cause you're not concentrating.

          STACY
          I wouldn't have to concentrate if
          we played War.

          JEFF
          Exactly. So where's the fun?

          STACY
          I'd win sometimes. It's not fun if
          we both can't win.

          JEFF
          But it's not winning if it's just
          chance.

          STACY
          Of course it is. If we flipped a
          coin, and I called heads, and it--

          ERIC
          Fuck..;this.. shit.

          Eric throws the Canterbury Tales to the ground. Then he
          rises, steps to the cooler, pulls out a beer, carries it back
          to his chair. Stacy watches as he takes a long swallow.

          STACY
          Maybe you should just be honest,
          sweetie.

          Eric doesn't even glance at her. He sips his beer again.

          STACY (cont'd)
          You could say: look, I don't know
          anything about these either, so now
          we're gonna read them together and
          sort of teach each other as we go.
          (turning to Jeff)
          Wouldn't you have loved that? To
          have a teacher who--

          Amy speaks without opening her eyes, cutting Stacy off:

          AMY
          Why would they hire you if you
          haven't read the books?

          ERIC
          I said I had.

          

          

          

          

          3.

          JEFF
          So maybe you should..

          ERIC
          (appalled by the idea)
          The Canterbury Tales? You ever
          look at that shit?

          JEFF
          I've read it.

          ERIC
          Fuck off. It's not even English.
          Jeff watches Stacy take another card; she examines it, sets
          it on the discard pile. Then, RECITING:

          JEFF
          This world nys but a thurghfare ful
          of wo, and we been pilgrymes,
          passing to and fro. Deeth is an
          ende of every worldly soore.

          Eric and Stacy stare at Jeff in astonishment. Amy doesn't
          react. Jeff glances toward her.

          JEFF (cont'd)
          Sunscreen, Amy.

          AMY
          I'm fine. I've got a base.

          JEFF
          You're burning. I can see it.
          She finally opens her eyes, lifts her head, peers at her
          shoulders. She presses at the pink skin.

          ANY
          I'm just flushed. It's too hot.
          Stacy leans forward, picks a second card off the deck. Jeff
          is focused on Amy; he doesn't notice.

          JEFF
          You're hot because you're burning.

          AMY
          It's only been--
          Stacy interrupts, speaking in a slightly SINGSONG fashion:

          

          

          

          

          4.

          STACY
          So there was this king, who lived
          in a castle.
          Amy turns, gives her a pained look.

          AMY
          Please don't.

          ERIC
          But what he really wanted was a
          beach house.

          AMY
          Stop it. Both of you. Right now.
          They ignore her, ping-ponging quickly back and forth:

          STACY
          So he decided to move.

          ERIC
          But the Queen didn't want to.

          STACY
          So he left by himself.

          ERIC
          But he got lonely.
          Amy covers her ears with her hands, blocking out their
          voices, but then inmiediately reaches to feel for her
          earrings: one of them is missing.

          AMY
          Shit.

          STACY
          So he bought a dog.

          ERIC
          But it had fleas.

          AMY
          I lost my earring.

          STACY
          So he gave it a bath.

          ERIC
          But the dog caught. cold.
          Amy sits up, glancing about. Stacy and Eric keep going:

          

          

          

          

          5.

          STACY
          So he gave it some medicine.

          ERIC
          But it was the wrong kind.

          STACY
          So the dog died.
          Amy rises, steps toward the pool. Jeff lays down his cards,
          joins her beside the water. They both peer into it.

          EXT. CANCUN HOTEL - BOARDWALK - DAY

          A young man is approaching down the boardwalk from the beach,
          carrying fins, a mask, a snorkel. He's in his early
          twenties: blond, crew-cut, very tall. His name is MATHIAS.
          As he nears the pool, he stops, staring.

          MATHIAS'S POV - THE POOL
          Eric and Stacy have risen to join Jeff and Amy; they're all
          peering into the water. Amy holds her remaining earring out
          to Eric and Stacy, showing them what it looks like.

          BACK TO SCENE - MATHIAS
          He stands there, hesitating. Then he starts forward.

          MATHIAS'S POV - THROUGH THE MASK - UNDERWATER - DAY
          We glide just above the pool's pale blue bottom. A silver
          earring comes into view. Mathias's hand reaches for it.

          EXT. CANCUN HOTEL - POOL - DAY

          The two couples have spread out around the pool's edge,
          searching for the earring. Mathias surfaces in front of Amy.
          He holds out his hand, with the earring-in it; she stares,
          startled, then crouches to take it.

          AMY
          Thank you so much.
          .Mathias nods. He starts to turn, as if to swim off, but Jeff
          stops him:

          

          

          

          

          6.

          JEFF
          Wait. . .want a beer?
          He waves toward their chairs, the cooler beside them.

          EXT. CANCUN HOTEL - POOL - LATER

          Mathias and the two couples sit together, with their beers.
          Amy's skin has turned deep red; Stacy is behind her, applying
          lotion to her shoulders. Eric is talking to Mathias:

          ERIC
          We went sailing yesterday. Out
          toward Cozumel? And there were
          these seven foot fish, these huge--

          JEFF
          Nurse sharks.

          ERIC
          (he nods)
          Like thirty of them. A whole, you
          know, flock.

          JEFF
          School.

          ERIC
          The water was, I don't know, ten
          feet deep? And they were lying on
          the bottom, just waiting for
          somebody to come swimming by--

          JEFF
          They're not dangerous.
          Eric turns, stares at Jeff.

          ERIC
          You said they're sharks.

          JEFF
          But they're not dangerous. They
          eat lobsters. Sea urchins. That
          sort of thing.
          Eric considers this, frowning. Then he takes a sip of beer.
          He shrugs, turns back toward Mathias.

          ERIC
          I wouldn't be snorkeling on my own.'
          That's all I'm saying.

          

          

          

          

          7.
          When Mathias speaks, it's with a SLIGHT GERMAN ACCENT:

          MATHIAS
          I wasn't on my own. I was with my
          brother.
          Jeff glances around the pool.

          JEFF
          He's here?
          Mathias shakes his head.

          MATHIAS
          He met a girl. They went away.

          JEFF
          To?

          MATHIAS
          It's a complicated story.
          They watch him, waiting for more, but nothing comes. Finally:

          ERIC
          You should hang with us, then. If
          you're on your own.
          (he glances at the others)
          Right?
          Everyone nods, smiling. Eric reaches into the cooler, pulls
          out another beer, holds it toward Mathias.

          EXT. CANCUN BEACH - NIGHT

          There's a DJ, a dozen beer kegs. A few young men and women
          are dancing beside a bonfire, but most of the crowd is
          scattered in small groups across the sand, TALKING, drinking,
          the firelight flickering off their faces.
          Stacy, Amy, Eric, Jeff and Mathias are sitting together; they
          all have cups of beer. Stacy is between Eric's legs, leaning
          against his chest. Amy, Jeff and Mathias sit cross-legged.
          Everyone but Jeff and Mathias is a little drunk, and you can
          hear it in their voices. Amy drains her cup, stands up, very
          unsteadily. She holds out her hand to Jeff.

          AMY
          Dance.
          Eric smiles, as if the idea of Jeff dancing were absurd.

          

          

          

          

          8.

          ERIC
          Jeff doesn't dance, Amy--he has no
          rhythm. Of all his many gifts,
          rhythm is not one.

          AMY
          That's not true. He played the
          trombone in high school. He won a
          prize.
          Eric seems startled by this, amused.

          ERIC
          Seriously?
          Amy nods. She drains her beer, tosses the cup aside.

          AMY
          Jeff's won prizes for everything.
          His Mom has a whole room built just
          for them. Trophies and ribbons and
          plaques. He's a very accomplished
          young man.
          (she holds out her hand-to

          ERIC)
          You?

          ERIC
          (he shakes his head)
          I don't dance on sand.
          Stacy makes a SNORTING sound.

          STACY
          Or grass. Or cement. Or carpet.

          ERIC
          I dance on teak.

          AMY
          Teak?

          ERIC
          It's a type of wood. Very rare.
          Find me a teak floor and I'll be a
          dancing fool.
          Amy shifts toward Mathias, holds out her hand. He stares at
          it, then glances at Jeff. Before he can speak, Stacy pushes
          herself to her feet; she's almost as wobbly as Amy.

          STACY
          I'll dance.

          

          

          

          

          9.
          They lurch off across the sand toward the bonfire. The boys
          watch them go. A beat, then Jeff glances at his watch.

          JEFF
          I'm gonna head back.
          Eric gives him a look of disappointment,

          ERIC
          You're kidding.
          Jeff seems STARTLED by this:

          JEFF
          What?

          ERIC
          How long is med school? Four
          years?
          Jeff nods.
          ERIC (cont'd)
          And then you got, whaddya call it,
          residency?
          Another nod. Eric turns toward Mathias.
          ERIC (cont'd)
          He's gonna be grinding away all
          that time. Sleepless. Fucking
          miserable. And know what? He's
          gonna look back on this night, us
          right here, and he's gonna say to
          himself, shit, I wish I'd--

          JEFF
          Gone to bed earlier.
          Eric stares at him; this wasn't the direction he was heading.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          If I'm gonna be so short on sleep,
          I should get as.much as I can now,
          don't you think?
          He stands up, brushes the sand from his shorts. Eric shrugs,
          lifts his cup toward him.

          ERIC
          All work and no play--

          

          

          

          

          10.

          JEFF
          Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and
          wise.
          With that, Jeff nods good night to them, then starts off
          toward the hotel. Eric and Mathias turn back toward the
          bonfire. They sit in silence, watching the girls dance.
          After a moment, Amy staggers away from the other dancers,
          toward a group of young men, drinking together in the
          shadows. She reaches down, pulls one of them to his feet,
          starts to drag him back toward the bonfire.
          The young man is tall, with long blond hair. He LAUGHS,
          tries to free himself, but Amy is insistent; she keeps
          pulling at him, and finally he surrenders. They begin to
          dance. Stacy is dancing on her own, eyes shut, oblivious.
          Mathias glances toward Eric. Eric shrugs.

          ERIC
          Amy drifts sometimes, when she
          drinks.

          MATHIAS
          Drifts?

          ERIC
          Like a boat--she bumps into other
          boats.
          They continue to watch. Amy and her partner's dancing is
          becoming steadily more intimate, the gap between their bodies
          narrowing, then disappearing altogether. Finally, Eric
          pushes himself to his feet.'
          ERIC (cont'd)
          Come on. Let's save everyone some
          grief.
          He starts. forward, followed by Mathias. They join Stacy and
          Amy, and Eric subtly interrupts Amy's pas de deux. The blond-
          haired young man disengages, drifts back toward his friends.

          EXT. CANCUN BEACH - DAWN

          It's quiet, the sun just breaking the horizon; the beach is
          nearly empty. A handful of hotel employees are tidying up
          after the bonfire: carrying off the empty kegs, raking clean
          the rubbish-strewn sand. Gulls hover overhead, CAWING.

          

          

          

          

          11.
          Jeff appears, running along the beach, his T-shirt soaked
          with sweat. He stops as he nears us, stands for a moment
          just above the line of surf, catching his breath, watching
          the sun rise. Then he turns, starts toward the hotel.

          EXT. CANCUN HOTEL - TERRACE - DAWN

          A breakfast buffet: trays of pancakes, eggs, fresh fruit.
          There are a dozen tables beneath brightly colored umbrellas.
          Mathias is the only diner at this hour; he's dressed in jeans
          and a T-shirt. He studies a piece of paper as he eats.

          JEFF (O.S.)
          You're up early.
          Mathias lifts his head: Jeff is standing there in his sweaty
          shirt, smiling down at him.

          MATHIAS
          I have to catch a bus.

          JEFF
          To?
          Mathias slides the sheet of paper toward him. Jeff bends to
          look. There's a paragraph in German scrawled above a hand-
          drawn map, with four place names: Cancun, Valladolid,
          Tizimin, Coba. A large X has been drawn to the west of Coba.

          MATHIAS
          The girl my brother met was on her
          way to this place, to work.
          (he waves at the map)
          It's a dig--an archaeological dig.
          And he went with her. He left the
          map, saying I could come, too, if I
          got bored on my own.
          A beat; he watches Jeff examine the map. Then:
          MATHIAS (cont'd)
          Our flight leaves the day after
          tomorrow. I can wait and hope he
          returns in time.. Or I can go get
          him. It's a question of trusting
          him to do the right thing.

          JEFF
          And you don't?

          

          

          

          

          12.

          MATHIAS
          Henrich doesn't think things
          through. He runs at them. He's...
          (he searches, shakes his

          HEAD)
          There's a word in English, but I
          can't remember it.

          JEFF
          impetuous?

          MATHIAS
          (he nods)
          So I have to be--

          JEFF
          Responsible.

          MATHIAS
          All our lives, the same story.
          Jeff.slides the map back toward him.

          JEFF
          It's what? One of those pyramids?

          MATHIAS
          (he shakes his head)
          An old mining camp.

          JEFF
          De oro? 0 plata?
          Mathias just stares at him.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          You don't speak Spanish?
          Mathias shakes his head.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          So how will you find this place?

          MATHIAS
           (he smiles, shrugs)
          Follow the m ap.
          Jeff frowns down at the map for a long beat. It seems as if
          he's going to question the feasibility of this, but. then he
          disengages instead, wiping at the sweat on his face.

          JEFF
          Well, good luck.

          

          

          

          

          13.
          Mathias nods his thanks, and Jeff turns, starts away from the
          table. WE MOVE with him, across the terrace, into the:

          INT. CANCUN HOTEL - RESTAURANT

          It's completely empty at this hour, and eerily silent.
          Chairs are stacked on the tables. As Jeff enters, a waiter
          moves past ham, carrying a pitcher of orange juice. Jeff
          stops, turns to watch through the window beside the door.

          JEFF'S POV - THROUGH THE WINDOW
          The waiter refills Mathias's glass. Mathias smiles, nods.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Jeff hesitates, wavering. Then he pushes open the door
          again, steps outside. We watch--

          THROUGH THE WINDOW
          --as he approaches Mathias. There's the sound of someone
          RETCHING, COUGHING. This carries over into:

          INT. CANCUN HOTEL - JEFF AND AMY'S BATHROOM - DAY

          A rack with towels on it, a sink, a tub. Amy is crouched
          over the toilet, in underwear and a T-shirt, VOMITING. Her
          skin is bright red. Jeff is standing in the tub, freshly
          showered, drying himself, watching. her. His running clothes
          hang from a hook beside the door.

          JEFF
          You okay?
          Amy doesn't answer. She COUGHS, spits.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          You don't have to come, you know.

          AMY
          I'm fine.

          JEFF
          You don't look fine.

          AMY
          Thank you. That's very helpful.

          

          

          

          

          14.
          She pushes herself to her feet, flushes the toilet, steps to
          the sink, squeezes some toothpaste onto a toothbrush.

          JEFF
          We'll be back by nightfall. You
          can just--
          Amy is raising the brush to her mouth, but she stops, gives
          Jeff a look in the mirror.

          AMY
          You don't want me to come?

          JEFF
          That's not what I'm saying.

          AMY
          So what're you saying?

          JEFF
          You're hungover, under slept,

          SUNBURNED--

          AMY
          I'm not sunburned.
          Jeff stares at her, the deep red of her face. Then he
          shrugs, steps out of the tub, the towel around his waist.

          JEFF
          .All right. My mistake.
          Amy bends over the sink, starts to brush her teeth.

          INT. CANCUN HOTEL - JEFF AND AMY'S BEDROOM - DAY

          A king-sized bed, a bureau, two night tables, a mini-fridge.
          Jeff emerges from-the bathroom, steps toward the bureau,
          starts to dress: boxers, jeans, T-shirt.
          A beat, then Amy shuffles out of the bathroom. She sits on
          the edge of the bed, starts to pull on a pair of shorts.

          JEFF
          Pants.
          Amy stops, the shorts around her ankles.

          AMY
          I'll get too sweaty.

          

          

          

          

          15.
          Jeff pulls a pair of khakis from the bureau, tosses them onto
          the bed beside her.

          JEFF
          There's gonna be mosquitoes.
          He picks up a knapsack, steps to the mini-fridge, opens its
          door. Amy stares down at the khakis for a beat, then drops
          back onto the bed. She lies there, looking up at the
          ceiling, her shorts still caught around her ankles.

          AMY
          We don't even know this guy.
          Jeff slides two bottles of iced tea into the knapsack.
          There's a plastic shopping bag beside the fridge, and he
          starts to dig through it.

          JEFF
          And?

          AMY
          I just don't see why we have to go
          with him.

          JEFF
          If you and I were traveling
          together, somewhere you didn't
          speak the language, and I'd
          vanished somehow, wouldn't you want
          someone to help find me?

          AMY
          Why would you vanish?
          Jeff turns, looks at her: this isn't the point.

          JEFF
          Aren't you getting bored?
          Honestly. The beach, the pool, the
          beach, the pool. This'll be fun.
          An adventure.
          Jeff pulls two protein bars from the bag, a box of raisins, a
          plastic bag full of grapes; he drops them into the knapsack.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          You said you wanted to go;hiking,
          didn't you? See the ruins.
          Amy is silent, unmoving, clearly not swayed.

          

          

          

          

          16.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Stay here, then. Seriously.
          There's no--

          AMY
          Why do you keep saying that?

          JEFF

          BECAUSE--

          AMY
          It's like you'd rather I didn't--
          A KNOCKING at the door, and she falls silent. Jeff rises,
          zipping shut the knapsack. He steps to the door, opens it.
          Stacy and Eric are in the hall.

          ERIC
          Ready?
          The both answer at the same time:

          JEFF AMY
          Amy's having second thoughts. Jeff doesn't want me to go.
          Stacy and Eric are silent; neither wants to get involved in
          this. A beat, then Jeff SIGHS, glances at his watch.

          JEFF
          Now or never, Any. .We're gonna
          miss the bus.
          Amy gives a loud GROAN, sits up, reaches for her khakis.

          INT. TOUR BUS - DAY

          Only half the seats are occupied: tourists with their packs
          and cameras-and hats. Little TVs hang from the ceiling.
          We MOVE slowly down the aisle, passing Jeff and Amy first.
          Amy is sound asleep, a camera hanging from her neck, a Panama
          hat in her lap. Jeff is beside her, bent low over a tour
          book, comparing its much more detailed map with the one
          Mathias's brother left behind.
          Next come Eric and Stacy, hunched together in their seats,
          watching a Mexican soap opera on the little TV above them.
          Stacy mimics the actors' exaggerated gestures, GIGGLING.
          Eric has the Cliff Notes for Hamlet in his lap, unopened.
          Finally, there's Mathias. The seat beside him is empty.
          He's staring out the window, his expression perfectly blank.

          

          

          

          

          17.

          EXT. COBA - DAY

          The town is very small: a dirt road lined with one- and two-
          story buildings, some with thatched roofs. There's a gravel
          turnaround, with a bus idling in it. Its door CREAKS open.
          A dozen tourists emerge from the bus, blinking in the
          sunlight. Jeff, Amy, Stacy, Eric, and Mathias are among
          them. The boys have the knapsacks; the girls are wearing
          matching hats. Amy rubs at her face, stretching, waking up.-
          There's a souvenir stand at the town's entrance, with
          brightly colored blankets hanging from its walls. The
          tourists start toward it, leaving Jeff and the others beside.
          the idling bus. They peer about, getting their bearings.

          ERIC
          Now what?
          Mathias has his brother's note. He holds it out, pointing,
          and they gather around him to look.

          MATHIAS
          We take a cab. To here.
          WE SEE the map: there's a line drawn from Cancun to Coba,
          where another, shorter line moves westward. Mathias's finger
          moves along this shorter line, toward the X on the map.

          ERIC
          How far?

          MATHIAS
          Eighteen kilometers.

          STACY
          How many miles is that?
          They all glance at Jeff. He shrugs.

          JEFF
          Eleven. A little more.

          MATHIAS
          Then there'll be a path. Which we
          hike--four kilometers.
          The others look to Jeff again. He slings his pack.

          JEFF
          Two and a half miles.

          

          

          

          

          18.
          The tourists are vanishing into the town. The bus's door
          SQUEAKS shut.

          ANY
          I don't see any cabs.
          The bus eases into motion, CRUNCHING across the gravel,
          pulling out onto the road. Behind it, a yellow pickup truck
          is revealed. "TAXI" is hand-painted in black on its side.
          They start toward the truck. Its DRIVER is Mayan: short and
          heavy-set, with thick glasses. His eyes are shut; he's
          dozing behind the wheel. The truck's engine.is running, the
          windows shut tight against the heat.
          Jeff TAPS the window, and there's a burst of movement from
          the truck's rear, as a dog springs up, BARKING and GROWLING.
          They all leap back, the girls SHRIEKING.
          The dog is a mutt--small, but muscular. He's attached to a
          cinder block by a short chain, which he throws himself
          against, slobbering, snapping at the air.
          They all stare at the dog; the girls LAUGH nervously,
          clutching each other. The driver has roused himself; he
          leans forward, rolls down his window, stares out at them.

          JEFF
          Hola.
          The man gives him a somber nod; the dog keeps BARKING. Jeff
          takes the map from Mathias, then steps warily forward.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Habla ingles usted?
          The man half-nods, half-shrugs.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          How much to drive us to here?
          He offers the map to the driver, who reaches to take it. The
          man frowns at it. Then, in HEAVILY ACCENTED ENGLISH:

          DRIVER
          Why you go this place?
          Jeff struggles for a simple way to explain their mission. in
          the back of the truck, the dog continues its frantic BARRING.

          JEFF
          There are these ruins. This old
          mining camp?

          (MORE)

          

          

          

          

          19.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          (he points toward Mathias)
          And his brother---

          DRIVER
          Fifteen dollar, I take you ruins.

          JEFF
          To here?
          Jeff points at the map. The driver shakes his head.

          DRIVER
          This place no good.
          He holds the map back out toward Jeff. Jeff takes it, gives
          the man a puzzled look.

          JEFF
          No good?

          DRIVER
          No good you go. Fifteen dollar I
          take you good place. You like, I
          promise.
          Jeff glances toward the others, as if for help. They all
          just stand there, watching. The dog won't stop BARRING.
          DRIVER (cont'd)
          I take you pyramid. Huy grande.
          Everyone happy.
          He smiles at Jeff; his teeth are large and thick-looking,. and
          black along the gums. Jeff pulls out his wallet. He removes
          a ten and a five, then points at the map.

          JEFF
          How about we pay you fifteen
          dollars to go here?
          He holds the money out. The man doesn't even look at it.

          DRIVER
          I tell you no good. Still you go?
          His smile has disappeared; he seems angry suddenly, as if
          Jeff has somehow insulted him. Jeff hesitates, glancing
          toward the others again. Then, in a CONCILIATORY TONE:

          JEFF
          We're looking for his brother.
          (he points toward Mathias)
          Su hermano?

          

          

          

          

          20.
          The driver wrenches the door open, making Jeff and the others
          flinch. He climbs out, still with that angry expression on
          his face, then leans into the back of the truck, grabs the
          dog's chain, unhooks it from the cinder block.
          He lifts the dog from the truck by the chain. Even dangling
          by its neck, the mutt continues to SNARL and snap at Jeff and
          the others. They back away, and the man tosses the dog into
          the truck's cab, pushing the door shut. The dog throws its
          body against the window, slobbering and BARKING.
          The man turns toward Jeff, wiping his hands on his pants.
          Jeff tries again:
          JEFF (cont'd)
          I'm sure your ruins are better than
          these. It's just that we--
          The driver cuts him off, holding out his hand, with that same
          air of enraged disgust.

          DRIVER
          El dinero.
          Jeff gives him the money. Then the driver SLAPS the side of
          the truck, gestures for them to climb into the back.

          EXT. YUCATAN ROAD - FROM HIGH ABOVE - DAY

          Below us, the yellow truck travels along a single-lane road.
          Jeff and the others are in its rear. There are fields on
          either side of the road, bordered by thick jungle.
          The truck reaches a fork in the road, bears left, angling
          toward the wall of jungle, into which it vanishes, the
          overhanging foliage blocking it from sight.

          EXT. YUCATAN ROAD - IN THE JUNGLE - DAY

          The road is dirt, heavily rutted. There's a small clearing
          beside it, with a path opening off it. The trees grow over
          the path, forming a shady tunnel. WE HEAR birds calling, a
          steady throb of insect life, but otherwise all is silent.
          A beat, then there's the sound of the TRUCK approaching,
          along with the dog's BARKING and GROWLING. The pickup
          appears, moving slowly, bouncing and swaying across the ruts.
          The truck pulls into the little clearing, stops. Jeff and
          the others clamber out over its tailgate.

          

          

          

          

          21.
          The dog is still lunging at them from behind the truck's rear
          window. Jeff gives the driver a wave.

          JEFF
          Gracias, senor!
          The driver doesn't even look at him; he just pulls out onto
          the road, heading back in the direction from which they came.
          There are mosquitoes; Stacy starts to slap at herself. Jeff
          unslings his pack, pulls out a can of insect repellent.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Here.
          He begins to spray her, then Eric. Amy is peering off after
          the truck. They can still hear the dog's BARKING, but very
          faintly now. Jeff finishes with Eric, starts in on Mathias.

          AMY
          How do we get back?
          She points back down the road, toward the vanished truck.
          Jeff pauses in his spraying, considers for a moment. Then:

          JEFF
          The guidebook said you can always
          flag down a passing bus. So I--

          AMY
          There aren't going to be any buses
          on that road.
          Jeff nods; this seems obvious. He resumes spraying Mathias.
          Eric and Stacy stand there, watching.
          AMY (cont'd)
          A bus couldn't even fit.

          JEFF
          It also said you can hitch--

          AMY
          See any cars pass, Jeff?
          Jeff doesn't answer. He steps toward her, starts to spray
          her, too. She holds out her arms.
          AMY (cont'd)
          The whole time we were driving, you
          see even one?

          STACY
          Eric has his phone. Can't we just
          call someone?

          

          

          

          

          22.

          AMY
          He's not gonna get a signal. Not
          way out here.
          They all turn to watch as Eric reaches into. his pack, pulls
          out his cell phone, flips it open. He stares at it for a
          beat, then shakes his head, snaps it shut. Jeff finishes
          spraying Amy, starts in on himself.

          JEFF
          They must-have a way to get
          supplies in.

          AMY
          Who?

          JEFF
          The archaeologists. They must have
          a truck. Or access to a truck.
          When we find Mathias's brother, we
          can just ask them to take us all
          back to Coba.
          (turning to Mathias)
          Right?
          Mathias seems startled by the question.

          MATHIAS
          I guess ...I mean, I--
          He shrugs; he has no idea. Amy is still focused on Jeff:

          AMY
          We're stranded, aren't we? That's,
          like, a twenty mile walk we're
          gonna have to do. Through the
          jungle.

          JEFF
          Eleven.

          AMY
          What?
          Jeff finishes with the insect repellent, crouches to slide
          the can back into his pack.

          JEFF
          It's eleven miles.

          AMY
          There's no way that was eleven
          miles.

          

          

          

          

          23.
          Jeff rises, slings his pack. He gives Amy a tired look.

          JEFF
          Let's just find this place, okay?
          Then we can figure out how to get
          back.
          Amy is silent. Jeff turns to the others.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Ready?
          Mathias and Eric nod, and the boys start down the path. Amy
          stands there, watching them go. Stacy steps toward her.'

          STACY
          Just go with it, honey. You'll
          see--it'll all work out.
          She hooks arms with her, pulls her into motion.

          EXT. JUNGLE TRAIL - MOVING - DAY

          They hike in single file: first Jeff, then Eric, Mathias,
          Stacy, and Amy. The path is six feet wide, hard-packed dirt.
          All around and above is the jungle: big-leafed plants, vines
          and creepers, immense trees.
          The path moves in snakelike curves; we can't see-very far in
          either direction. They're all sweating, their shirts
          clinging to their bodies. The bugs continue to harass them.

          STACY
          So-there was this girl who bought
          a piano.
          Amy gives a loud MOAN.

          ERIC
          But she didn't know how to play.

          STACY
          So she signed up for lessons.

          ERIC
          But she couldn't afford them.
          Stacy reaches, taps Mathias's shoulder.

          STACY
          You can play, too. If you want.

          

          

          

          

          24.
          Mathias glances back at her.
          STACY (cont'd)
          It's easy. Someone says So, then
          you say But. It's like catch, only
          without a ball.
          (to Eric)
          So she got a job in a factory.

          ERIC
          But was fired for being late.
          Amy takes off her hat, wipes the sweat from her face.

          AMY
          It's annoying.

          STACY
          So she became a prostitute.

          AMY
          It's tedious and boring. And once
          they start, it's impossible to get
          them to stop.

          ERIC
          But she fell in love with her first
          client.
          Amy puts her hat back on. She looks hot, sweaty, tired.

          AMY
          How much farther?
          Mathias peers down at his brother's note. Stacy and Eric
          continue with their game.

          MATHIAS STACY
          We cross a stream. Then So she asked him to marry
          there'll be a path, branching her.
          off to our left. If we see a
          village, we've gone too far.
          AMY (cont'd) ERIC
          A village? But he was already married.

          MATHIAS STACY
          A Mayan village. So she begged him to get a
           divorce.
          AMY (cont'd) ERIC
          Will they have air But he was in love with his
          conditioning? wife.

          

          

          

          

          25.
          Mathias shrugs, returns the note to his pocket.

          MATHIAS STACY
          It just says there's a So she decided to kill her.
          village.
          AMY (cont'd)
          I think we should go see it.

          STACY
          Me, too.

          AMY
          I think we should---
          Jeff stops suddenly, pointing.

          JEFF
          The stream.
          Thirty feet in front of them, the trail dips toward a small
          stream, studded with boulders. It resumes on the far bank,
          rising gradually uphill in a long straightaway. The stream
          is slow moving, the water dark brown. Eric SNIFFS the air.

          ERIC
          Fucking smells.

          JEFF
          They must use it as a latrine.

          ERIC
          Who?

          JEFF
          The village. The Mayans.
          They start toward it, gingerly, the girls covering their
          noses. Jeff crosses the stream, hopping from boulder to
          boulder, and the others follow. Stacy almost falls in; she
          only catches her balance at the final instant, YELPING.
          Jeff is already starting up the trail, searching for the
          turnoff. There's no sign of it; the dense foliage extends
          unbroken as far as the eye can see. He turns to Mathias.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          How far past the stream?.

          MATHIAS
          Right after, it says.

          

          

          

          

          26.
          They stand there in a loose group, staring at the trees.
          Eric pulls a bottle of water from his pack, takes a swallow,
          then passes it to Stacy. Amy lifts her arm, points.

          AMY
          Look.
          Up the trail, sixty feet away, stand two small Mayan boys;
          they seem to have materialized out of the air. They're ten
          years old, shirtless, scrawny, dark-haired. one of them is
          holding a bicycle by its handlebars; it doesn't have a seat.
          AMY (cont'd)
          Maybe they can guide us.
          Stacy smiles toward the boys; she waves, CALLS OUT:

          STACY

          HOLAL
          The boys just stand there, staring at them, silent, their
          expressions wary, even frightened. One of them leans to
          whisper something to the other, who nods.

          ERIC
          Why don't we--
          He stops, noticing Mathias. The German is staring toward the
          edge of the trail, where a large bush sits. one of its
          fronds is very slowly dropping toward them, pulling itself
          free of the soil.
          Mathias steps forward, tugs at a second frond, which slips
          easily from the dirt. He tosses it aside, reaches for
          another frond: this, too, slips free. Someone has pushed
          them into the earth, arranging them to look like a bush.
          Mathias pulls a fourth frond free, then a fifth, and an
          opening is revealed in the brush, a narrow path winding its
          way off through the trees. They stand there a beat, staring
           at it. Then there's a SQUEAKING SOUND, and they all turn.

          AMY'S POV - UP THE TRAIL
          one of the boys is hurriedly pedaling off, bent low over the
          bicycle's handlebars. His companion remains behind, staring
          toward us with a look of obvious anxiety.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Amy turns to Jeff; so do the others.

          

          

          

          

          27.

          AMY
          Why was it covered?
          Jeff lifts his hands: how should he know?

          STACY
          Maybe it's not the right path.
          NO one speaks. They keep staring from the boy to the newly
          revealed path, trying to make sense of it. WE can still HEAR
          the squeaking of the bicycle, growing steadily fainter.

          JEFF
          It's on the map.

          AMY
          It's a hand-drawn map, Jeff.

          STACY
          And it was hidden. Why would it be
          hidden?
          Jeff steps forward, shields his eyes, tries to peer into the
          dimness of the narrow path. Then he glances back toward the
          little boy, who continues to stand there, watching them.

          JEFF
          Maybe the archaeologists don't want
          people to find the mine.

          AMY
          Because?
          Jeff has to think. Finally:

          JEFF
          Maybe they've dug up something
          valuable. Emeralds or something.
          Or silver. Whatever they were
          mining in the first place. And
          they don't want anyone to come rob
          them. So they've asked the Mayans
          to help keep people away.
          He falls into silence, staring at the boy. No one appears
          very convinced by his theory, not even Jeff. He shrugs.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          How much farther is it?
          Mathias takes the map from his pocket again, glances at it.

          

          

          

          

          28.

          MATHIAS
          Not far.

          JEFF
          Be silly to stop now, don't you
          think?
          No one answers; no one moves.

          ANY
          This just feels weird, Jeff.
          Jeff SIGHS, fighting to suppress his impatience with her.

          JEFF
          So we what? Turn around? Walk all
          the way back to Coba?
          Silence. They all turn to stare back down the trail, then
          toward the Mayan boy, who's still watching them. Stacy SLAPS
          a mosquito, leaving a bloody smear on her bare arm. Jeff
          lifts his hand, gestures at the path.leading into the trees.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Come on. We're almost there.
          The others glance at one another, waiting for someone to
          argue; no one does. Finally, Mathias steps forward, slipping
          through the narrow opening. Eric follows him, and then, with
          just the slightest hesitation, so do Amy and Stacy.
          Jeff throws one last glance toward the boy--who's still
          standing there, sixty feet away, watching with his anxious
          expression--and then he, too, vanishes into the trees.

          EXT. NARROW PATH - MOVING - DAY

          They make their way along the winding path, one after
          another, all of them sweating, slapping at the mosquitoes.

          ERIC
          Maybe the ruins are sacred. You
          know? And they don't want people
          digging them up.
          He glances about, off into the trees, a little spooked.
          ERIC (cont'd)
          We could be walking through some
          sort of ancient graveyard right
          now. And they've--

          

          

          

          

          29.

          JEFF
          It's a mine. An old mining camp.

          ERIC
          So?

          JEFF
          There's nothing sacred about it.
          Eric considers this as they walk. The others are also quiet:
          too hot to speak. The sunlight falls through the trees in
          thin, shifting columns, hazed with mosquitoes.

          ERIC
          Maybe it leads to a marijuana
          field, then. Maybe the village is
          growing pot, and that boy rode off
          to get them, and they're gonna come
          with guns and--

          AMY
          Eric.

          ERIC
          What?

          AMY
          Shut up, okay?
          Eric falls silent. They follow the path as it curves first
          right, then left, moving gradually uphill all the while, and
          suddenly there's sunlight in front of them, bright and
          intense: a clearing. They hesitate at its edge, staring.

          EXT. CLEARING/BASE OF THE HILL - DAY

          The clearing is twenty yards wide, and extends in either
          direction as far as the eye can see, finally curving out of
          sight. Its soil is a deep black, flecked with white, like
          frost rime. It's completely free of vegetation.
          The path resumes on the far side of the clearing, winding its
          way up asmall hill. The hill is rocky, oddly treeless, and
          covered with a vinelike growth--a vivid green, with hand-
          shaped leaves and tiny red flowers.
          Jeff and the others step warily out onto the cleared ground,
          peering about, squinting in the sudden sunlight. They stare
          up at the flower-covered-hill.

          

          

          

          

          30.
          There are hints of ruins among the thick foliage: giant
          boulders with faint carvings etched onto their surfaces, the
          crumbling remains of a fallen pillar, everything half-buried
          beneath the vine.

          STACY
          It's beautiful.

          AMY
          So beautiful.

          STACY
          And the mosquitoes are gone. You
          realize that? They've stopped
          biting.
          She smiles at the others, delighted by this development. Amy
          removes the cap from her camera, starts to take pictures.

          AMY'S POV - THROUGH THE VIEWFINDER
          WE HEAR a click as she takes each photo, and the image
          freezes for an instant.
          There's the hillside, covered in its vine, its red flowers:
          CLICK. There's Eric pulling the water bottle from his pack:
          CLICK. There's Stacy smiling at us, waving: CLICK. There's
          Mathias shading his eyes, peering up the hill.

          AMY (O.S.}
          Smile, Mathias.

          MATHIAS
          Is that a tent?
          He points.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Amy lowers her camera, turns to look.

          AMY'S POV - UP THE HILL
          An orange square of fabric is just visible, at the very top
          of the hill, billowing, sail-like, in the breeze. From this
          distance, with the rise of the hill partly blocking the view,
          its hard to tell what it is.

          

          

          

          

          31.

          BACK TO SCENE
          They all stand there, peering up the hill. Faintly, but
          growing steadily louder, a THUDDING noise comes from the
          jungle. The five of them turn, heads cocked, listening.

          JEFF
          A horse.
          It's true: HOOFBEATS are approaching at a gallop.
          Instinctively, Jeff and the others back a handful of steps
          toward the hill. A long. beat, then a horseman bursts into
          the clearing, rearing to a halt. Amy lifts her camera.

          AMY'S POV - THROUGH THE VIEWFINDER
          A bald Mayan man is on the horse; he's broad-shouldered,
          short, in his early forties, dressed in a white shirt and
          pants. The horse rears a second time, and the image FREEZES
          for an instant, with a CLICK, as Amy snaps another picture.

          BACK TO SCENE
          The bald man SHOUTS at them in UNSUBTITLED MAYAN. His horse
          is lathered, SNORTING, rolling its eyes. It rears yet again,
          and the man half-falls, half-jumps to-the ground. Jeff and
          the others back a few more steps into the clearing.

          AMY'S POV - THROUGH THE VIEWFINDER
          The bald man is still holding the reins; the horse is backing
          away from him, jerking its head, trying to break free,
          pulling him, step-by-step, back toward the trail. CLICK.

          BACK TO SCENE
          The man can't gain control of the horse. Finally, he drops
          the reins, and the horse gallops into the jungle, CRASHING
          through the trees, its hoofbeats gradually diminishing.
          The man turns toward them, starts YELLING in MAYAN again,
          pointing back down the trail. Sweat shines on his forehead.
          There's a gun on his belt, a black pistol in a brown holster.
          Stacy is clutching Eric's arm, looking frightened.

          STACY
          What's he saying?

          

          

          

          

          32.

          ERIC
          Maybe he wants money? A toll or
          something?
          The Mayan continues SHOUTING, waving his arm. Jeff reaches
          into his pocket, pulls out his wallet, removes a twenty.

          JEFF
          Dinero?
          The man ignores the proffered bill, makes a shooing motion,
          waving them from the clearing. Mathias turns toward the
          hill, cups his hands around his mouth, SHOUTS:

          MATHIAS

          HENRICHI
          There's no response, just the orange fabric gently billowing.

          JEFF
          Why don't you hike up, see if you
          can find him? We'll try to sort
          this out.
          Mathias nods, starts across the clearing. The bald man
          SHOUTS at him in Mayan, and then, when Mathias doesn't stop,
          pulls his pistol from its holster, FIRES into the sky.
          Everyone flinches, half-ducking. Stacy SCREAMS. Mathias
          goes still. The man waves at him, YELLING in Mayan, and
          Mathias comes back, his hands raised, to join the others.
          HOOFBEATS are approaching from the jungle again. They come
          closer and closer, and suddenly two more horsemen burst into
          the clearing. They're younger than the bald mans in their
          twenties, dark-haired, muscular. One has a mustache.
          Their mounts are white-eyed, SNORTING, rearing, just like the
          bald man's. The two men jump to the ground, dropping their
          reins, and the horses immediately turn and gallop back into
          the jungle. Amy lifts her camera again.

          AMY'S POV - THROUGH THE VIEWFINDER
          The young men have bows slung across their chest, and quivers
          of thin, fragile-looking arrows. They question the bald man
          in MAYAN, very rapidly. He's still aiming his pistol at
          Mathias. A CLICK, and the image freezes for an instant.

          

          

          

          

          33.

          BACK TO SCENE
          As they continue to interrogate the bald man in MAYAN, the
          young men unsling their bows, each of them nocking an arrow.
          Reflexively, Jeff and the others retreat another handful of
          steps into the clearing. Mathias still has his hands raised.

          ERIC
          What the fuck?

          JEFF
          Quiet.

          ERIC

          THEY'RE--

          JEFF
          Wait. Wait and see.
          Amy is a bit farther into the clearing than Jeff and the
          others. She keeps swinging her camera from them to the
          Mayans, trying to capture the whole scene in one shot. She's
          too close, though,-and she retreats another handful of steps.

          AMY'S POV - THROUGH THE VIEWFINDER
          Still backing up toward the hill; all of them but Stacy and
          Eric are in the frame now. The bald Mayan is still answering
          the young men's questions. He turns toward us suddenly,
          points his pistol directly at us,.starts to SHOUT.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Jeff and the others turn, too, staring at Amy in surprise.
          She's nearly at the far edge of the clearing, peering through
          her camera; she retreats another step. The young Mayans
          raise their bows, drawing them; the bald man keeps YELLING.

          JEFF

          AMY--
          She takes another step; she's right up against the vines.

          AMY'S POV - THROUGH THE VIEWFINDER
          Stacy is in the frame now. We retreat one more step, and so
          is Eric, and the Mayans with their raised weapons, the bald
          man still SHOUTING: everything FREEZES on the CLICK.

          

          

          

          

          34.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Amy lowers her camera. The Mayan with the mustache turns to
          the other two, points toward her feet, SPEARING URGENTLY.
          The bald Mayan slowly lowers his pistol, looking dismayed.
          Amy glances down.

          AMY'S POV - HER FEET
          She's stepped out of the clearing, into the flowering vine.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Both of the younger Mayans are speaking now, their voices
          RISING. The bald Mayan is shaking his head, protesting, but
          they talk right over him. Amy steps clear of the vine,
          starts back toward Jeff, and the younger Mayans draw their
          bows taut again, aiming at her chest. She freezes.

          AMY

          JEFF---
          Jeff lifts his hand, without looking, his eyes on the Mayans.

          JEFF
          Don't move.
          The bald man continues to frown and shake his head. He
          points to Amy, then the others; he waves toward the jungle.
          But the young men are implacable--they keep arguing,
          gesturing--and finally the bald man gives in, falls SILENT.
          A beat, then the bald man raises his pistol, aims it at
          Jeff's chest. He makes a shooing motion with his other hand,
          but now it's toward Amy, and the hill beyond her.
          He begins to SHOUT; the other men do, too. Then the bald man
          FIRES a bullet into the dirt at Jeff's feet. Everyone jumps,
          starts to retreat. The men with the bows are swinging them
          back and forth, herding them toward the hill.
          When Jeff and the others reach Amy, the bald man points
          toward the trail, waves them up it. He watches--his
          expression looking stricken, close to tears--as the five of
          them obediently begin to climb the vine-covered hill.

          EXT. HILLSIDE - DAY

          Midway up the hill, they pause to catch their breath.

          

          

          

          

          35.

          JEFF
          Check your phone, Eric.
          Eric pulls out his phone, flips it open, stares at it.

          ERIC
          Nothing..
          He snaps it shut. They stand there: sweating, scared
          looking. Mathias cups his hands to his mouth again, SHOUTS:

          MATHIAS
          Henrich...I
          They all peer up the hill, waiting for a response.

          ERIC'S POV -- UP THE HILL
          It is a tent: bright orange, looking a bit worse for wear.
          The vine is growing up its aluminum poles as if on a trellis.
          .The tent faces away from us; its doorway is hidden. There's
          no sign or sound of any people.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Eric turns, glances back down the hill, shielding his eyes.

          ERIC
          There's another one.
          He points toward the clearing below them.

          ERIC'S POV THE CLEARING
          A fourth man has arrived, on a bicycle. He's dressed in
          white, like the others, with a straw hat on his head. A
          beat, then two more Mayans appear, also on bicycles. They
          all have bows slung over their shoulders.
          The bald man addresses these newcomers. He waves in either
          direction, and the other men start off along the clearing,
          two one way, three the other, leaving him alone at the base
          of the hill.
          A beat, then a little boy appears from the jungle--the one
          who'd watched them discover the camouflaged path. He and the
          bald man stand there, peering up at us.

          

          

          

          

          36.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Eric turns to the others, EXCITED:

          ERIC
          Let's run back down. Quick. While
          there's just him and the kid. We
          can rush them.

          STACY
          He's got a gun, Eric.
          This silences Eric--silences all of them. Mathias turns,
          SHOUTS toward the tent again.

          MATHIAS
          Henrich...1
          There's no answer. They wait another beat, then Jeff waves
          them back into motion.

          EXT. HILLTOP - DAY

          The hill is flat on top, forming a wide plateau. Beyond the
          orange tent is a small clearing of rocky ground. A blue tent
          sits on the far side of the clearing, looking just as
          weathered as the orange one, the vine growing up its poles.
          The five of them pause, peering about. Jeff CALLS OUT:

          JEFF
          Hello...?
          SILENCE. The vine covers everything but the trail and the
          clearing. We glimpse more rubble beneath its greenery: time-
          worn stelae, a low stone wall.
          In some places the vine folds back upon itself, forming waist-
          high mounds, tangled knoll-like profusions of green. And
          everywhere, hanging off it, are those bright red flowers.
          Mathias moves toward the orange tent, and Jeff follows him.
          They UNZIP its flap, stoop to peer inside.

          JEFF'S POV - INSIDE-THE ORANGE TENT
          The vine has taken root in here, too, growing on some things,
          leaving others untouched. There are three sleeping bags
          unrolled on the floor. An oil lamp. Two backpacks. A roll
          of duct tape. A bottle of tequila. A metal canteen.

          

          

          

          

          37.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Jeff and Mathias ZIP the flap back shut. Eric, Stacy and Amy
          are fifteen feet away, watching.

          ERIC
          What's inside?

          JEFF
          Nothing. Some camping supplies.
          Mathias starts across the clearing toward the blue tent,
          followed by Jeff and the others. He UNZIPS its flap, sticks
          his head inside. Jeff leans to look, too.

          JEFF'S POV - INSIDE THE BLUE TENT
          The same thing: sleeping bags, backpacks, camping supplies.
          The vine is growing on some things, but not on.others.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Ten yards beyond the tent, there's a hole cut into the dirt.
          Stacy, Amy, and Eric have gathered at its edge; Jeff and
          Mathias join them. The hole is rectangular--ten feet by six
          feet--and very deep; we can't see its bottom.
          A windlass has been constructed beside the hole, a horizontal
          barrel with a hand crank welded to its base. Rope is coiled
          around the barrel. From there, it passes over a small wheel,
          which hangs from a sawhorse straddling the hole's mouth.
          Then it drops straight into the earth.

          AMY
          The mine?
          Jeff nods. A draft is rising from the hole, and it lifts off
          Amy's hat. She tries to catch it, but fumbles: the hat
          falls away from her. They all watch it vanish into the dark.
          Eric pulls out his phone, flips it open, almost
          absentmindedly: a nervous gesture. There's still no signal.
          He closes it, turns to survey the clearing, the empty tents.

          ERIC
          Now what?
          Jeff shrugs, waves past the shaft. The clearing ends just a
          few yards from them;

          

          

          

          

          38.
          then the vines resume, and in the midst of the vines is the
          path. It winds its way to the edge of the hilltop, vanishes
          over it.

          JEFF
          Keep going, I guess.
          Saying this, he slings his pack onto his shoulder. Then he
          starts forward, the others falling in behind him.

          EXT. HILLSIDE - DAY

          They pick their way down the trail. It's much steeper on
          this side; there are short stretches where they have to drop
          onto their rear ends and slide, one after another. It's
          after one of these that Jeff suddenly stops, staring.

          JEFF'S POV - THE BOTTOM OF THE HILL
          It looks as if the jungle has been chopped down all the way
          around the base of the hill, isolating it in a ring of barren
          soil. One of the Mayans has made his way along this cleared
          ground to the base of the trail. He's staring up at them.

          ERIC (O.S.)
          Fuck.
          The man slides his bow off his shoulder, nocks an arrow. He
          shakes his head at them, CALLS OUT in MAYAN, waves them away.

          BACK TO SCENE
          The five of them stand there, staring down at the man.

          STACY
          What do we do?
          Jeff shrugs, starts forward again.

          JEFF
          We'll see.
          The others hesitate, and then, one after another, resume
          their downward march.

          EXT. BASE OF THE HILL - DAY

          As they approach the clearing, the Mayan man YELLS what
          sounds like someone's name.

          

          

          

          

          39.
          A beat, then another bowman comes jogging into view. Jeff
          and the others stop at the bottom of the trail. They stand
          there, staring.
          The vine has invaded the clearing here. Ten feet in front of
          the path is one of those odd, knoll-like growths, knee-high,
          thick with flowers. The two Mayans are another twenty feet
          beyond it, in the center of the clearing, bows drawn.

          AMY
          So.
          Her skin is slick with sweat, and she's winded from the hike
          down. A third Mayan comes jogging toward them. He stops
          beside the other two, draws his bow.

          ERIC
          We should rush them. All at once.

          STACY
          Shut Up, Eric.

          ERIC
          Or go make shields. If we had some
          shields, we could--
          He falls silent as another Mayan comes running toward them.
          along the clearing. This one is bearded, heavier than the
          others. And he's carrying a rifle.

          ANY
          Oh my god.
          Jeff is staring at the little isolated island of vines, ten
          feet in front of them--peering intently at it.

          STACY
          Let's go back up.
          Jeff takes a step forward into the clearing--slowly, warily.
          STACY (cont'd)
          I wanna go back.
          Jeff takes another step, edging toward the mound, his eyes on
          the Mayans, their raised weapons. They just watch him.

          ANY

          JEFF--
          He ignores her, takes a third step, then a forth, which
          brings him to the mound of vines. He crouches, reaches into
          the tendrils, parting them. He grasps a stalk, tugs, pulls
          it free. WE SEE a tennis shoe, a sock, a man's shin.

          

          

          

          

          40.
          Jeff turns, stares at Mathias, who steps forward, crouches
          beside him, starts to pull at the vines, gently at first,
          then more aggressively, tearing them, the plant's sap shining
          on his skin, a low MOAN rising from his chest.
          Another shoe is revealed, another leg, a pair of jeans, a
          belt buckle, a black T-shirt. And then, finally: a young
          man's face, the flesh oddly eaten away, so that his cheekbone
          is visible, the white socket of his left eye.
          AMY (cont'd)
          Oh, no. Oh, Jesus.
          Jeff holds up his hand, silencing her. The Mayans stand
          there, in the center of the clearing, watching. Mathias has
          begun to rock slightly, that MOANING coming and going. Jeff
          touches his shoulder, WHISPERS:

          JEFF
          Easy. All right? Easy and slow.
          We'll stand up and we'll walk away.
          We'll walk back up the hill.
          The young man's T-shirt is stiff with dried blood. There are.
          three slender arrows impaled in his chest.

          MATHIAS
          It's my brother.

          JEFF
          I know.

          MATHIAS
          They killed him.
          Jeff nods, his hand still on Mathias's.shoulder; he squeezes.

          JEFF
          Shh. Not here. Up the hill, okay?
          Mathias is struggling to control his breathing; the MOANS
          keep coming. Finally, he manages a nod, and they both stand
          up. Stacy and Amy are holding hands, looking stricken.
          Stacy has started to CRY. Eric has his arm around her.
          The Mayans keep their weapons raised. They watch in silence
          as Jeff and the others turn to start back up the hill.

          EXT. HILLTOP - DAY

          Jeff and Mathias are at the top of the trail, staring down
          toward the clearing.

          

          

          

          

          41.

          JEFF'S POV - THE BOTTOM OF THE BILL
          More Mayans are appearing from the jungle. They're all
          armed. The bald man sends them out along the clearing, some
          in one direction, some 'the other.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Jeff and Mathias stand there, grim-faced, watching. Mathias
          lifts his hands, stares at them. They've turned a deep, raw-
          meat red, as if scarred. He flexes his fingers, wincing.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Amy, Stacy, and Eric sit in the clearing, beside the shaft,
          passing a bottle of water among themselves. Eric is
          struggling to calm the girls:

          ERIC
          We can sneak past once the sun...-'
          sets, I bet. You know? Just reep
          by them in the dark?
          Stacy and Amy hardly seem to hear him; they look dazed,
          distraught. Eric passes the bottle to Stacy. A beat, then:
          ERIC (cont'd)
          And then there's the girl.

          AMY
          The girl?

           ERIC
          The one his brother met. What
          happened to her?
          Amy and Stacy are silent. Stacy lifts the water bottle to
          her lips, but immediately lowers it, and starts to CRY again.
          Amy takes her hand. Eric watches them, silent. Then:
          ERIC (cont'd)
          And the archaeologists. You think--
          Stacy's crying deepens toward a SOB. Amy gives Eric a look.

          AMY
          Stop it, Eric.

          ERIC
          What?

          

          

          

          

          42.

          AMY
          Just stop, okay? Stop talking.
          Stacy struggles to collect herself, breathing deep. She
          wipes at her face. Amy keeps stroking her hand.
          Jeff and Mathias are approaching across the hilltop. Mathias
          holding his burned-looking hands out in front of him. He
          9 a nd Jeff crouch beside the others.

          ERIC
          What happened?
          Jeff takes the bottle from Stacy. He pours a tiny bit of
          water on Mathias's hands.

          JEFF
          There's something in the plants.
          The sap--it burned his skin.
          Mathias rubs at his hands with his shirt, grimacing. Amy
          reaches to take the water back from Jeff. She starts to lift
          the bottle to her mouth, but..Teff leans forward, grabs it.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Don't. We need to save it.

          AMY
          But I'm thirsty.

          JEFF
          We all are.

          AMY
          So let's drink.
          Jeff shakes his head, capping the bottle.

          JEFF
          We don't have that much. We need
          to ration it.
          (he glances up at the sky)
          We'll have to figure out a way to
          catch the rain.
          Everyone but Amy peers up at the sky: it's a perfect,
          cloudless blue. Amy remains focused on Jeff.

          AMY
          I'm hungover. I'm sunburned. I
          lost my hat. I need some water.

          

          

          

          

          43.

          JEFF

          AMY--

          AMY
          Why do you get to decide?
          Jeff stares at her, considering this. Then he shrugs.

          JEFF
          Fine. Let's vote.
          (he glances at the others)
          But first you should understand
          that each of us is gonna need half
          a gallon of water a day, at a
          minimum, to survive here. That's
          two and a half gallons total, every
          day. And right now, until it
          rains, we don't have it. Okay?
          Not even one day's worth.
          (a beat)
          Now who wants to give Amy more
          water?
          A long moment of silence. No one can meet Amy's eyes.
          Finally, VERY QUIETLY:

          STACY
          Maybe we should just wait, honey.

          ANY
          Till?
          Everyone looks toward Jeff.

          JEFF
          Another hour or so. Then we'll all
          have a sip. Okay?
          Amy can see that she has no choice. She gives a grudging
          nod, and Jeff slides the bottle into his knapsack.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          We have to get organized. Now.
          While we're still fresh. We'll
          have to stay out of the sun, spend
          as much time as possible in the
          tents. We'll have to--

          STACY
          Can't we sneak away when it gets
          dark? Eric said we--

          

          

          

          

          44.
          Jeff shakes his head, cutting her off. He waves across the
          hilltop, toward where he and Mathias had been standing.

          JEFF
          They keep coming. More and more of
          them. They're all armed, and the
          bald one sends them out along the
          clearing. They're surrounding us.
          Amy, Stacy and Eric struggle to absorb this. Finally:

          ERIC
          Why don't they just kill us?

          JEFF
          It's got something to do with the
          hill, I think. Once you step on
          it, you're not allowed off.
          Something like that. They won't
          step on it themselves, but now that
          we're here, they won't let us
          leave. So we have to figure out a
          way to survive till someone comes
          and finds-us.

          AMY
          Who?
          Jeff lifts one hand, palm-up, half a shrug.

          JEFF
          People'll start to worry when we
          don't return home. Right? And

          THEY'LL--

          AMY
          We're not supposed to leave till
          Friday.
          Jeff nods.
          AMY (cont'd)
          And they'll have to come searching.
          Again, he nods.
          AMY (cont'd)
          So you're talking--what, a week?

          .JEFF
          Something like that.
          Amy looks appalled; her voice JUMPS:

          

          

          

          

          45.

          AMY
          We can't live here for a week,
          Jeff.

          JEFF
          If we try to leave, they'll shoot
          us. That's the one thing we know
          for certain.
          An electronic CHIRPING comes from the shaft: it sounds like
          a cell phone ringing. Mathias turns his head, listening. No
          one else notices it.

          AMY
          But what will we eat? How will we--
          The RINGING comes again, silencing her. She glances toward
          the shaft, not quite believing what she's hearing. It comes
          a THIRD TIME, and they all stand up, step to the hole, peer
          into its darkness. The RINGING comes yet again.

          STACY
          A cell phone.

          AMY
          It can't be--

          JEFF
          That's a cell phone, Amy.
          Definitely.

          .AMY
          But there's no signal out here.
          Eric can't get a signal.
          Reflexively, Eric pulls out his phone, checks again:
          nothing. There's another RING.

          JEFF
          It could be a different network.
          Something local.

          AMY
          Way down in that hole? How could
          it pick it up?
          Still another RING.

          ERIC
          What else can it be?

          

          

          

          

          46.
          The RINGING falls SILENT. They all stand there, staring into
          the hole. A long beat, then it RESUMES. Eric CLAPS his
          hands, ecstatic. The others are starting to smile, too.
          Mathias moves to the windlass. He unrolls some of the rope,
          starts to wrap it around his chest. Jeff watches him.
          Another RING.
          The vine has taken root on the windlass:- the sawhorse, the
          barrel, the rope. Jeff steps forward, begins to yank it off,
          careful not to get the sap on his hands. He turns to Amy.

          JEFF
          There's a lamp in the orange tent.
          See if you can find some matches,
          too.
          Amy hurries off toward the orange tent, vanishing inside.
          There's a final RING, and then SILENCE again. Mathias is
          knotting the rope tightly around his chest.
          Amy returns, carrying an oil lamp, a box of matches.
          Everyone watches as Jeff crouches to light the lamp. Then he
          rises, turns toward Mathias, looks at him closely.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          You sure?
          Mathias nods, takes the lamp, steps to the edge of the hole.
          Jeff and Eric move to the windlass; they position themselves
          at the hand crank, leaning into it, so the rope goes taut.
          Mathias girds himself, steps out over the hole. He dangles
          there for a moment, hanging beneath the sawhorse, the
          windlass GROANING on its mount. Then Jeff and Eric begin to
          reverse the crank, letting the rope slowly spool out.
          Stacy and Amy stand beside the shaft, peering into it,
          watching as Mathias begins his descent--ten feet, twenty
          feet, thirty feet down, and still only darkness beneath him,
          with no sign of the shaft's bottom.
          The windlass CREAKS as it turns; Jeff and Eric strain against
          it, sweating, muscles taut. Amy has turned from the shaft,
          is watching: the rope as it slowly unspools from the barrel.

          AMY
          Jeff.
          He turns to look, and she points at the rope, where it comes
          off the windlass and angles up toward the little wheel
          hanging from the sawhorse.

          

          

          

          

          47.
          AMY (cont'd)
          The sap...
          They'd cleared off most of the vine from the rope, but not
          all of it. Some of these remaining tendrils have been
          crushed as the windlass slowly unspools. Their sap is
          darkening the rope in spots, eating into it.
          AMY (cont'd)
          I think it's--
          Jeff immediately turns back to the crank, his voice URGENT:

          JEFF
          Pull him up !
          Eric hasn't grasped what's happening. He hesitates.
          JEFF (cont'd)

          NOWT
          Amy jumps forward to help, all three of them pushing at the
          crank, getting in each other's way, the windlass CREAKING as
          it begins to turn again, slowly reclaiming the rope. Stacy
          remains beside the shaft, peering anxiously into it.

          STACY'S POV - THE SHAFT
          Mathias is twenty-five feet beneath us, just beginning to
          bump his way upward, swaying back and forth. He stares up at
          us, CONFUSED:

          MATHIAS
          What is it?
          The rope beneath the sawhorse is being visibly eaten away,
          its hemp unraveling.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Stacy turns toward the others, pointing, terrified.

          STACY

          IT'S--
          The rope SWAPS. Jeff, Eric and Amy fall forward, the
          windlass spinning wildly behind them, free'of its weight. A
          long beat, then there's a distant, hollow-sounding THUMP,
          followed instantly by the POP of the lamp shattering.
          Stacy leans to peer into the shaft, her hand over her mouth.

          

          

          

          

          48.

          STACY'S POV - THE SHAFT
          Darkness. Silence.

           STACY (O.S.)
          Mathias...?
          Her voice ECHOES back at us. There's no response.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Jeff, Eric, and Amy join Stacy at the edge of the shaft, all
          of them staring down into the darkness, looking horrified.

          ERIC
          Oh, Jesus. Oh, fuck.

          AMY
          Is he--
          There's a GROAN from below, very faint, almost inaudible.

          JEFF
          He's moaning.
          They listen for a beat, but there's only silence.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          I heard him moan.
          The others don't seem so certain; Jeff turns to the girls.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          One of you will have to go.

          AMY
          Go?
          Jeff nods, waving into the shaft.

          JEFF
          Down. We'll clear the vine off the
          rope. And you can--

          AMY
          Why can't you? Or Eric?

          JEFF
          We have to work the crank. You
          won't be strong enough.

          

          

          

          

          49.
          Amy and Stacy stare at each other; it's obvious neither of
          them wants to go. Stacy is the one who finally gives in.

          STACY
          I can do it.

          AMY

          (RELIEVED)
          You sure?
          Stacy nods, but she doesn't look sure. She's hugging
          herself; it seems as if she might start trembling. Before
          anyone can speak, that GROANING comes from the shaft again,
          louder this time, unmistakable. Jeff cups his hands, SHOUTS:

          JEFF
          Mathias...?
          More SILENCE. Jeff turns to the girls.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          See if you can find a knife. And
          another lamp.'
          He waves them toward the tents; then he and Eric begin to
          unspool the rope from the windlass, laying it out across the
          clearing in long, looping circles.

          EXT. CLEARING/BASE OF THE HILL - DAY

          The Mayans keep coming: women now, too, bearing bundles on
          their backs. They're setting up a campsite along the edge of
          the jungle. The bald man stands in their midst, his hands on
          his hips, staring silently up the hillside.

          CU - OIL LAMP
          The SCRATCH of a match being lit: Amy's hand comes into
          frame, lifts the lamp's glass chimney, fires the wick.

          JEFF (0.S.)
          Just help him into the sling. Then
          we'll pull him up.
          The chimney is carefully replaced, as WE PULL BACK TO REVEAL:

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Amy is crouched, adjusting the lamp's flame. Jeff and Eric
          have mended the rope.

          

          

          

          

          50.
          WE SEE the excised lengths of spoiled hemp, and the ragged-
          looking knots on the rope itself, which has been spooled once
          more around the windlass.
          They've fashioned a sling at the rope's end. Jeff and Eric
          are helping Stacy into it, pulling it over her head,
          adjusting it under her armpits.

          JEFF
          Once we get him out, we'll drop the
          rope back down and pull you up,
          too.
          Amy offers Stacy the lamp. Stacy is scared, yet struggling
          not to show it. Her hands are trembling, and the lamp
          rattles as she takes it. The boys are stepping toward the
          windlass; Eric stops, glances back at her.

          ERIC
          You okay?
          Stacy nods, but without much conviction. Eric steps toward
          her, gives her a tight hug. He holds her eyes for a moment,
          kisses her. Then he joins Jeff at the hand crank. They lean
          against it, and the rope goes taut.
          Stacy steps out into the open air over the shaft, the lamp in
          her right hand. With her left hand, she lunges, grabs at the
          sawhorse, clings tightly to it. Jeff glances toward her from
          the hand crank.

          JEFF
          Ready?
          She nods, but doesn't relinquish her grip on the sawhorse.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          You have to let go, Stacy.
          For a moment, it doesn't seem like she'll be able to, but
          then--with a visible act of will--she does, and they slowly.
          begin to let the rope out, dropping her into the shaft.

          ON STACY - IN THE SLING
          She grips the sling with one hand, the lamp with the other.
          Wooden supports have been hammered into the walls of the
          shaft, buttressing the dirt. The vine clings to them, its
          leaves and flowers paler than on the hillside above.
          Stacy begins to swing, pendulum-like, as she descends. She
          tries unsuccessfully to steady herself, then glances up.

          

          

          

          

          51.

          STACY'S POV - ABOVE HER
          We're steadily dropping: thirty feet down, then forty. Amy
          is at the edge of the shaft, peering in at us. She waves.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Stacy smiles up at her. She starts to wave back, but is too
          scared to let go of the sling. She glances down.

          STACY'S POV - BENEATH HER
          The light is swaying back and forth with Stacy, and it causes
          the shadows beneath us to jump and lurch. There's still no
          sign of the bottom; the windlass continues to CREAK.
          A beat, and then, very faintly, Mathias's dim shape starts to
          emerge: his white tennis shoes, his pale blue T-shirt. The
          lamp picks up bits of broken glass around his body.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Stacy lifts the lamp, peering downward, struggling to see
          more clearly, and the sling suddenly jerks to a halt, making
          her SQUAWK. She looks up.

          STACY'S POV - ABOVE HER
          The CREAKING has stopped. We're swinging slowly back and
          forth. WE SEE Amy peering down toward us: a long way up,
          almost seventy feet. A beat, then Jeff appears, too.

          JEFF
          Stacy?
          His voice has an ECHO to it.

          BACK TO SCENE - STACY
          Her face is slick with sweat; it shines-in the lamp light.

          STACY
          What?

          JEFF (O.S.).
          It's the end of the rope.

          

          

          

          

          52.

          STACY
          I'm not at the bottom.

          JEFF (O.S.)
          Can you see him?
          Stacy looks down again, holding up the lamp, peering toward
          Mathias's motionless body. She lifts her head.

          STACY
          A little.

          JEFF (O.S.)
          Is he conscious?

          STACY
          I can't tell. I don't think so.

          JEFF (O.S.)
          How far are you above him?
          Stacy glances down once more, trying to quess,the distance.

          STACY
          Fifteen feet?
          (a beat)
          He's just lying there.
          She lifts her head again, peers upward.

          STACY'S POV - ABOVE HER
          The top of the shaft is empty. Very faintly, WE HEAR Jeff
          and the others talking, just their voices, not their words.

          STACY (O.S.)
          Jeff ... ?
          Jeff's head reappears.

          JEFF
          We have to figure out a way to
          lengthen the rope. We're gonna
          pull you up.
          He pulls his head away.

          BACK TO SCENE - STACY
          She's staring upward.

          

          

          

          

          53.

          STACY
          Wait!
          The rope has almost stopped its swaying.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING

          Jeff steps back to the hole, peers into it. So does Amy.
          Eric waits by the windlass. The rope is completely played
          out. Stacy SHOUTS, her voice ECHOING slightly:

          STACY (O.S.)
          I want to stay with him.

          JEFF
          You can't. We have to--

          STACY (O.S.)
          I'll jump.
          Jeff glances at the others. Eric shakes his head. Jeff
          CALLS down to her:.

          JEFF
          We might not be able to make it
          longer. You'll be trapped.

          STACY (O.S.)
          What about him? We can't just
          leave him.

          JEFF
          We'll pull you up. Then we'll see.
          He starts toward the windlass again.

          ON STACY - IN THE SLING
          The rope jerks, and she begins to rise. She kicks her legs,
          lifts her left arm over head, wrenches it free of the sling,
          so that only her right arm remains hooked. She switches the
          lamp from her right hand to her left, then slips completely
          free of,the sling, the lamp fluttering out as she drops.

          THE BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT
          Almost totally dark, just a faint fall of light from above.
          Mathias is a dim shape on the floor of the shaft. Stacy
          lands beside him--heavily, awkwardly--the glass from his
          shattered lamp CRUNCHING beneath her.

          

          

          

          

          54.
          She loses her balance, pitches forward, onto his body.
          MATHIAS makes a terrible SHRIEKING sound, pure pain, flailing
          his arms. Stacy struggles to right herself.

          STACY
          I'm sorry. Oh, God. I'm so sorry.
          She pulls herself into a crouch, staring down at him through
          the dimness, his SHRIEK fading to a steady MOANING.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING

          Jeff, Amy, and Eric have rushed to the shaft; they're peering
          into it. There's only darkness beneath them. Eric SHOUTS:

          ERIC
          Stacy...?
          Stacy's voice rises toward them, sounding. very FAR AWAY:

          STACY (O.S.)
          I didn't want him to be alone.

          JEFF
          What happened to the lamp?

          STACY (O.S.)
          It blew out.
          Jeff turns from the shaft, picks up the box of matches. He
          yanks off his shirt, ties the box inside it, then steps back
          to the edge of the hole. He CALLS down to Stacy:

          JEFF
          I'm dropping the matches. Okay?

          STACY (O.S.)
          Okay.
          Jeff holds the knotted bundle over the shaft, lets it go. It
          falls into the darkness. A long beat, and then, very softly,
          WE HEAR the thump as it lands.
          STACY (O.S.) (cont'd)
          Got it.
          The three of them stare into the hole, waiting for the light.

          

          

          

          

          55.

          THE BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT
          There's the RASP of a match, its flickering flame, then the
          stronger illumination of the lamp as Stacy lights its wick.
          Mathias lies on his back before her, silent now, motionless,
          his eyes shut. Stacy bends toward him, WHISPERS:

          STACY
          Mathias...?
          He doesn't respond; it's hard to tell if he's conscious.
          Stacy lifts the lamp, peers about the shaft. The vine has
          taken root even at this depth, its flowers and leaves pale to
          the point of translucence.
          Beyond Mathias, there's an opening in the dirt wall, another
          shaft cutting perpendicularly into the earth. Its roof is
          supported by a stone archway, intricately carved. Stacy
          rises, as if to investigate, but then winces, nearly falls.
          She peers down at her right leg. A large piece of glass is
          imbedded there, just beneath her knee. it's the size of a
          playing card, gently concave,'dark with her blood. She
          reaches and, grimacing, pulls it from her body.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING

          Jeff is at the windlass, hurriedly cranking the rope back up.
          Eric and Amy stand watching.

          JEFF
          We need fifteen feet. Twenty to be
          safe.
          No one speaks. The windlass turns with that steady CREAKING,
          but it's higher-pitched now, with no weight on the rope.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Come on. Think. How can we--

          ERIC
          The clothes? From the backpacks?
          We could knot them together?

          JEFF
          Would they hold?
          Eric frowns, uncertain. Jeff finishes with the rope, stands
          there, catching his breath. Stacy's,voice rises toward them
          from the shaft:

          

          

          

          

          56.

          STACY (O.S.)
          I cut my knee.
          Eric hurries to the shaft, followed by Jeff and Amy. They
          peer over its edge, toward Stacy, so far beneath them, in her
          flickering circle of lamp light.

          ERIC
          Bad?

          STACY
          My shoe's full of blood.

          JEFF
          Put pressure on it. Use my shirt.
          They all stare down at her, waiting.

          TOE BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT
          Stacy is crouched beside Mathias, pressing Jeff's T-shirt to
          her wound. Her khakis and tennis shoe are dark with blood;
          there's a lot of it. She isn't watching Mathias; he startles
          her when he opens his eyes and speaks:

          MATHIAS
          My...legs...
          His voice is faint and RASPY; we can hear his pain in it.
          Stacy leans toward him, tries to smile reassuringly.

          STACY
          Hey...

          MATHIAS
          Can't... move ...my...legs...
          Stacy turns to look: his legs are lying at an odd angle, as
          if he were a doll that had been carelessly tossed there.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING

          Jeff, Eric and Amy, still watching; Jeff turns to the others.

          JEFF
          What about the tents? We could
          take one down, cut the nylon into
          strips.
          Eric and Amy glance toward the tents, debating.

          

          

          

          

          57.

          ERIC
          Would it be strong enough?

          JEFF
          we can braid them--three strips for
          each section. Then knot the
          sections together, for strength.
          Before either of them can respond, Stacy's voice emerges from
          the shaft, sounding SCARED:

          STACY (O.S.)
          I think he broke his back.
          They fall silent, staring down at her.
          STACY (O.S.) (cont'd)
          He can't move his legs. And it
          smells.

          JEFF
          Smells?

          STACY (O.S.)
          Like he lost his bowels. His
          bladder.

          AMY
          (very quietly)
          Oh no. Please no.
          Jeff turns to her.

          JEFF
          How can we make a backboard?
          Amy starts to shake her head, looking horrified.

          AMY
          No, Jeff. No way. We can't move
          him.

          JEFF
          One of the frames from the
          backpacks? And the tent poles.
          There's tape in the orange tent.
          He doesn't wait for a response; he leans over the shaft,

          SHOUTS:
          JEFF (cont'd)
          We have to builda backboard,
          Stacy. It might take a while.

          

          

          

          

          58.
          There's a long hesitation, as if Stacy is searching for some
          alternative. Then, still sounding FRIGHTENED and FARAWAY:

          STACY (O.S.)
          Okay.
          Amy is shaking her head, growing FRANTIC:

          AMY
          We'll make it worse. Well jostle
          him, and he'll--
          Jeff turns toward her, with a hint of EXASPERATION:

          JEFF
          We can't just leave him down there.
          You know that, don't you?
          She starts to back away, toward the edge of the clearing.

          AMY
          we have to tell them.

          JEFF
          Who?

          AMY
          The Mayans. We have to tell them
          what's happened.
          Jeff gives her an incredulous look. She keeps retreating;
          she's almost at the path.
          AMY (cont'd)
          They can send for help.

          JEFF
          They're not gonna---

          AMY
          We have to may. We have to--
          She spins, starts off at a run, vanishing down the trail.
          Jeff calls after her, SHOUTING:

          JEFF
          Amy!
          But she's gone. Jeff turns to Eric.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Stay here.

          

          

          

          

          59.
          And then he, too, is running.

          EXT. CLEARING/BASE OF THE HILL - DAY

          The Mayans have established their campsite on the edge of the
          jungle. Two women are beside a campfire, plucking a pair of
          chickens. WE SEE other campsites in the distance, other
          campfires, hugging the jungle's margin, surrounding the hill.
          Three men sit in the center of the clearing, facing the
          hillside, their bows in their laps. They rise suddenly,
          peering up the trail. The women pause in their labor, also
          staring. The campsite goes QUIET.

          THE MAYANS' POV - UP THE HILL
          Amy is sprinting toward us down the trail. Jeff is ten yards
          behind her, also running.

          BACK TO SCENE
          The three Mayans nock arrows. Two other men step forward to
          join them. One has a bow; the other is the bald Mayan, with
          the pistol. He unholsters it, and--as Amy reaches the bottom
          of the trail--raises it, aiming at her chest.
          Amy stops just short of the clearing: sweating, breathless,
          scared-looking. She lifts her hands, palms-up, beseeching.

          AMY
          Help us. Please. Someone's been
          hurt. He--
          Jeff comes to a halt, five feet behind her.

          JEFF
          They can't understand you.
          She turns, her voice quickened with PANIC:

          AMY
          Say it in Spanish. Tell them he--

          JEFF
          They don't speak Spanish.

          AMY
          Try it. You have to try.

          

          

          

          

          60.
          She spins back toward the Mayans, takes a step into the
          clearing. The bald man SHOUTS at her, a single short
          sentence in MAYAN. Amy holds out her hands to him.
          AMY (cont'd)
          Espanol? Habla Espanol?
          Jeff steps forward, grabs her elbow.

          JEFF
          They killed Henrich. Why would-
          Amy tries to tug free, but he won't let her. She starts to
          SHOUT at the Mayans:

          AMY
          Help usi We need help!
          The Mayans just stare at her, their weapons raised, their
          faces expressionless. one of them is much younger than the
          others, almost a boy. He says something in MAYAN to the bald
          man, and the bald man shakes his head.
          Amy begins to CRY. Jeff pulls at her elbow.

          JEFF
          We have to get back.
          Amy turns toward him, her face smeared with tears.

          AMY
          I didn't want to come. I told you
          we shouldn't. I said--
          Jeff tightens his grip on her arm, gives her a little shake,
          as if to wake her up.

          JEFF
          Listen to me. Mathias needs our
          help. Right now. He--

          AMY
          We shouldn't even be here. Why did
          you say we'd come?
          (she wipes at her tears)
          You have to do something.
          (rising toward a shout)
          You have to! It's your fault.
          It's all your--
          Jeff shakes her again, more roughly, his voice like a slap:

          

          

          

          

          61.

          JEFF
          YD-q stepped onto the hill.
          Amy stares at him, startled into silence.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          They wouldn't have forced us up it
          if you hadn't.
          He holds her eyes, making sure she understands. Then:
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Now let's go, okay?
          He starts to pull her back toward the trail. She allows
          herself to be led; she's begun to CRY again:

          AMY
          I didn't know. I just--
          She's growing increasingly upset, almost SOBBING. She tries
          to turn back toward the Mayans again, but Jeff won't let her.
          AMY (cont'd)
          They have to help us.

          JEFF
          They're not going to.

          AMY
          They have to.
          She wrenches herself free, stumbles, falls into the vines
          beside the trail. Jeff reaches for her, but she kicks away
          from him, grabbing at the vines, scrambling to her feet.
          As she rises, she yanks up a tendril, a clot of earth hanging
          from its roots. She SCREAMS, spinning toward the clearing---
          AMY (cont'd)

          WHY WON'T YOU FUCKING HELP US?
          --and throws the tendril at the Mayans. They scramble
          backward, with surprising panic, SHOUTING. The youngest of
          them is too slow: the length of vine hits him in the leg.
          He stares down at the tendril in shock.
          The others back hurriedly away from him. Two of them
          continue to point their weapons at Amy, but the bald man and
          one of the other bowmen are aiming at the young Mayan now.
          There's SHOUTING from the tree line. The entire campsite is
          on its feet; a woman begins to SCREAM.

          

          

          

          

          62.
          She's in her,forties, short and stout, and she starts forward
          into the clearing, arms stretched toward the young Mayan.
          Two of the other women grab her, hold her back.
          The bald Mayan starts to ADDRESS the young man, pointing up
          the hillside. The short woman keeps SCREAMING, flailing,
          trying to break free. The young Mayan looks at her, then at
          the bald man. He speaks in MAYAN, a brief burst of words.
          The bald man shakes his head, points up the hill again, his
          pistol aimed at the young man's chest. The short woman is
          WAILING, eyes shut. The young Mayan takes a step toward her,
          CALLING what seems to be her name.
          The bald man SHOUTS at him, but the young Mayan ignores him,
          takes a second step, then a third. The bowmen are all aiming
          at him now, and suddenly, everyone seems to be YELLING.
          The young Mayan takes a fifth step, holding out his arms
          toward the WAILING woman, CALLING to her. The bald man
          FIRES, shooting him in the head. At the same instant, the
          bowmen let their arrows fly, the shafts THUMPING into the
          young man's chest, burying themselves to the fletches.
          The clearing goes still; the only sound is the woman's steady
          WAILING. Then the bald man swings his pistol toward Amy and
          Jeffs he SHOUTS in MAYAN at them. The other Mayans nock
          fresh arrows, draw their bows.
          Jeff takes a step backward, half-raising his hands. Amy just
          stands there, her eyes on the young Mayan's motionless body.

          JEFF

          AMY...
          (no reaction)

          AY.
          She turns, finally. She looks horrified, stupefied; her
          hands are burned a deep red from the vine's sap. Jeff waves
          her up the hill. She stares at him for another beat, and
          then, without a word, starts to climb the trail.
          Jeff hesitates, watching the Mayans: the bloodied corpse,
          the raised weapons, the KEENING woman. Then he, too, turns
          and hurries off up the trail.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Amy, Jeff, and Eric have taken down the blue tent; its
          contents lie tumbled in a pile in the little clearing. All
          three of them look sun struck, sweat-stained, worn out.

          

          

          

          

          63.
          Eric is using a knife to cut long strips from the blue nylon.
          Amy is braiding three of the strips together. Jeff has one
          of the backpack frames, the roll of duct tape, and some of
          the poles from the tent; he's making a backboard.

          ERIC
          Maybe we could use it as a weapon,
          you know? Wrap it around some
          stones or something. And throw
          them, like grenades. I mean, if
          they're that scared of it--
          Jeff tears off a piece of tape with his teeth.

          JEFF
          They have guns, Eric. And bows.
          What do you think they'll do if we
          start throwing the vine at them?
          Eric is silenced by this. He cuts another long strip of
          nylon, passes it to Amy. But he can't seem to stop himself
          from talking:

          ERIC.
          So you figure it's, what? Sacred
          or something? Like, you touch it
          and you have to die?
          Amy begins to cry suddenly--a SOB, quickly suppressed. Jeff
          and Eric both turn to look at her. The vine's sap has
          scarred her hands and arms almost to the elbows. She wipes
          her eyes, takes a deep breath, shakes her head.

          AMY
          I'm okay.
          But she doesn't look it. Jeff removes his hat, holds it out.
          Amy just stares at it; he nods for her to take it.

          JEFF
          Come on. You're burning.
          She reaches for the hat, puts it on, then wipes at her eyes
          again. Jeff leans forward, touches her.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          We're gonna get through this. All
          right? We'll pull them up. And
          then ...I don't know--we'll figure
          things out. it has to rain at some
          point. And maybe we can snare some
          birds. Or--

          

          

          

          

          64.
          The electronic RINGING sounds once more from the bottom of
          the shaft. They all turn to stare.

          THE BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT
          The oil lamp has begun to smoke, adding a haze to the light.
          Stacy is beside Mathias, holding his hand. She's still
          pressing Jeff's shirt to her wound. The RING sounds again.
          Mathias turns his head, peers toward the shaft cut into the
          dirt wall to his left: that's where it's coming from. Stacy
          reaches to pick up the lamp, rises to her feet. Another
          RING. Jeff SHOUTS down from above:

          JEFF (O.S.)
          Stacy...?
          Stacy ignores him; she limps around Mathias, starts toward
          the opening. She hesitates at the mouth of the shaft,
          lifting her lamp to see better. There's another RING.

          -STACY'S POV -- INTO THE SHAFT
          The lamp's light doesn't penetrate very far, but WE can SEE
          that the vine has taken root here with great avidity: it
          grows thickly on the walls, floor and roof. There's a steady
          draft coming toward us, and the plant shifts in it, RUSTLING.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Stacy stands there, looking scared. There's another RING.

          JEFF (O.S.)
          Can you see it?
          Stacy lifts her head, SHOUTS:

          STACY
          No.
          She keeps peering into the shadows, not moving. The ringing
          falls SILENT. Stacy turns, hobbles back toward Mathias, and
          the light shudders, dims for a moment. She squints at it:
          the oil is nearly gone. She SHOUTS up to the others:
          STACY (cont'd)
          The lamp's almost out of oil.

          JEFF (O.S.)
          Then blow it out.

          

          

          

          

          65.
          Stacy seems terrified by this.

          STACY
          Blow it out?

          JEFF (0.5.)
          We'll need it when we come down.
          To get him on the backboard.
          Stacy drops into a crouch beside Mathias, sets the lamp down
          before her, stares at it. She clearly doesn't want to blow
          it out. Mathias watches her, silent.
          JEFF (O.S.) (cont'd)
          All right?
          Stacy leans forward, lifts the lamp's glass chimney, blows
          out the flame, dropping the shaft into darkness.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DUSK

          The.sun is just touching the horizon, the sky turning red.
          Th ey've tied the braids of nylon onto the rope, attached the
          finished backboard to them. It rests beside the shaft,
          padded with one-of the archaeologist's sleeping bags.
          Jeff and Eric remove their belts, drop them onto the
          backboard. They step to the windlass, lean against its hand
          crank, the rope going taut. Amy stands by the shaft,
          gathering her courage. Then she reaches for the backboard.

          THE BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT
          Mathias and Stacy are two dim shapes in the darkness. The
          windlass begins its CREAKING. A long beat, and then:

          AMY (O.S.)
          Stacy?

          STACY
          What?

          AMY -(0.5.)
          Light the lamp!
          Stacy shifts; once again, there's the RASP of a match, then
          the stronger illumination of the lamp as she lights its wick.
          Mathias's eyes are shut; there's a deep RAGGEDNESS to his
          breathing. Stacy looks upward.

          

          

          

          

          66.

          STACY'S POV - ABOVE HER
          The backboard is dropping toward us. Above it, the light is
          already fading from the sky.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Stacy rises to her feet, lifting the lamp.

          ON AMY - CROUCHING ON THE BACKBOARD
          She's dropping slowly down the shaft, clenching the nylon
          braids, her eyes tightly shut: terrified. The backboard
          sways, pendulum-like, as it descends, almost touching the
          vine-covered walls.

          THE BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT
          When the backboard comes within reach, Stacy grabs it,
          pulling it to the-right, so that it will come to rest at
          Mathias's side. But then, with three feet still to go, it
          jerks to a halt, almost toppling Amy from her perch.
          A beat, and Jeff's voice comes toward them from above:

          JEFF (O.S.)
          Have you reached them?

          AMY
          Almost. A few more feet.

          JEFF (O.S.}
          How many?
          Amy leans, peers down at Mathias's broken body.

          AMY
          I don't know. Three?

          JEFF (O.S.}
          we're out of rope.
          (a beat)
          Can you still do it?
          Amy looks at Stacy; neither speaks. Finally, QUIETLY:

          STACY
          We'll have to send it back up, I
          guess.

          

          

          

          

          67.
          Amy doesn't answer. She shifts her weight, and the backboard
          starts to swing. Stacy reaches to steady it.
          STACY (cont'd)
          Blow out the lamp. Wait here in
          the dark.
          Amy is silent, staring down at Mathias's still form; it's
          obvious she doesn't want to do this.
          STACY (cont'd)
          Or we could try to lift him, maybe.
          More silence. Stacy persists:
          STACY (cont'd)
          One of us at his shoulders. The
          other his feet.

          AMY
          If he twists--

          STACY
          It's only a few feet.
          /"- Once more, Amy is silent. Stacy lifts the lamp, examining
          it, the diminishing pool of oil.
          STACY (cont'.d)
          We have to decide. The light's not
          going to last.
          Jeff's voice comes toward them from above again:

          JEFF (O.S.)
          Amy...?
          They both look up; the sky has grown too dark to see him.
          Amy hesitates one beat more, then YELLS:

          AMY
          We're gonna try itt
          She climbs off the backboard, crouches beside Mathias. Stacy
          sets down the lamp.
          AMY (cont'd)
          Mathias...?
          She touches his shoulder, and he opens his eyes, stares at
          her. He looks haggard, ashen.

          10111..

          

          

          

          

          68.
          AMY (cont'd)
          We're going to lift you, okay?
          We're going to hoist you up and
          out.
          Mathias stares from her to the backboard to Stacy. He shuts
          his eyes. Amy stands up, drags the belts off the backboard,
          drops them next to the lamp. She positions herself behind
          Mathias's head; Stacy hobbles to his feet, limping.
          AMY (cont'd)
          His hips.
          Stacy hesitates, looking doubtful.

          STACY
          You sure?

          AMY
          If you lift from his feet, he'll
          bend at the waist.

          STACY
          But if I lift at his hips, won't he
          arch his back?
          They both stare down at Mathis, imagining these two different
          scenarios. Amy glances toward the lamp, its dwindling oil.

          AMY
          His knees.
          Stacy crouches by Mathias's knees, a little off balance,
          favoring her wounded leg. Amy bends, sliding her hands under
          his shoulders. Mathias GROANS, and Stacy starts to pull
          away, but Amy shakes her head.
          AMY (cont'd)
          Quickly. On three.
          They count together:

          STACY AND AMY
          One ... two.-,.three.
          They lift, and Mathias immediately starts to SCREAM. His
          body sags at the waist; he begins to thrash his arms. Stacy
          starts to set him down, but Amy shakes her head, SHOUTS:

          AMY
          No!

          

          

          

          

          69.
          Stacy's wounded leg is hindering her; she can't keep up with
          Amy. Mathias's shoulders are level with the backboard, but
          his knees are still a good foot beneath it. He keeps
          SCREAMING. The bend at his waist increases.
          AMY (cont'd)
          Lift I
          Stacy tries to hoist him higher, lunging, his torso twisting,
          his SCREAMS going LOUDER. His right arm, hits the backboard,
          sends it swinging. The girls toss him toward it.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - NIGHT

          The sun has set. There's a half moon, giving us just enough
          light to dimly see Eric and Jeff peering into the shaft.
          Mathias's SCREAMS echo up toward them.

          THE BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT - NIGHT
          Mathias has fallen silent. He lies on the backboard, eyes
          clenched, sweat beading his forehead.
          Stacy is trying not to cry. She watches Amy buckle the two
          belts together, then drape them over Mathias's chest, knot
          them tight. Amy strips off her own belt, gestures for Stacy
          to do the same. She buckles these together, too.

          STACY
          I have to pee.
          She limps toward the wall, lowers her pants, gingerly
          crouches. She stares toward the other shaft as she pees:
          its stone archway, the shifting shadows, the vine rustling
          softly in the steady draught.
          Amy binds Mathias at his thighs. She WHISPERS to him:

          AMY
          You okay?
          She waits, but he doesn't respond. His eyes remain shut.
          Stacy rises, buttoning her pants, limps back toward Amy.
          She's on the edge of tears, is working hard to fight them
          off. Amy lifts her head, SHOUTS up to Jeff:
          AMY (cont'd)
          Pull him up!

          

          

          

          

          70.
          A moment's pause, then the windlass begins to CREAK once
          more. The backboard slowly rises, swaying gently. They
          watch it climb away from them. Amy holds out her-hand.
          ANY (cont'd)
          Here.
          Stacy just stares at her, not understanding. Amy nods at the
          lamp: the oil is gone.
          AMY (cont'd)
          It's gonna go out.
          And it's true: as Stacy reaches for Amy's hand, the light
          suddenly flickers, dims, drops them into darkness.

          EXT. CLEARING/BASE OF THE HILL - NIGHT

          The Mayans are settling into sleep at their campsite. Three
          of the men remain on guard duty in the clearing, facing the
          hillside, their backs to the fire. The young Mayan's corpse
          still lies in the dirt, fifteen feet in front of them. The
          firelight throws shadows across his bloodied body.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - NIGHT'

          The windlass CREAKS loudly as Eric and Jeff work to wind in
          the rope. Stacy has already been pulled up from the hole.
          She's sitting beside Mathias, who's lying on the backboard,
          on the edge of the clearing, by the orange tent.
          Amy emerges from the shaft, dangling beneath the sawhorse.
          Jeff holds the rope taut while Eric steps to the hole, pulls
          Amy toward him. Stacy watches from beside the backboard.
          Mathias's eyes are shut, his breathing ROUGH with phlegm.
          No one speaks. Once Amy is free of the sling, they all move
          to the backboard. Eric takes Stacy's-hand; Jeff crouches,
          starts to undo the belts.

          ERIC
          Shouldn't we carry him into the
          tent first?
          Jeff pulls free the first belt, shifts to the second one.

          JEFF
          We can't.

          ERIC
          Because?

          

          

          

          

          71.

          JEFF
          He's gonna keep leaking urine.

          AMY
          But we can't just leave him out in
          the open.

          JEFF
          We'll rig a shelter. With what's
          left of the blue tent.
          Jeff pulls the second belt free. Mathias's eyes remain shut.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          One of us should stay on watch
          while the others sleep. Two hour
          shifts.
          He reaches for his knapsack, unzips it. He pulls out a liter
          bottle of water.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          .Once it's light, we'll figure out
          how much water we have, and how to
          ration it. Food, too. For now, I
          think we should each just take a
          single swig.
          He uncaps the bottle, hands it to Amy. He watches her drink
          from it. When she's done, she passes it to Stacy.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Eric and I'll build the shelter,.
          then I'll take the first shift.
          You two should try to sleep.
          Stacy takes her single sip, passes the bottle to Eric.

          INT. ORANGE TENT - NIGHT

          Stacy and Amy have pushed the camping supplies into a pile
          along the tent's rear wall. Stacy pulls off her pants, bends
          to examine her wound in the darkness. Amy is beside her,
          lying on her side. A beat of silence. Then, WHISPERING:

          STACY
          Amy?
          what?

          

          

          

          

          72.

          STACY
          We shouldn't have lifted him,
          should we?
          Amy reaches, pats Stacy's hand.

          AMY
          Shh.

          STACY
          He's never gonna walk again.. He's--

          AMY
          Don't, Stacy. Don't talk. It'll
          only make things worse.
          Stacy falls silent.
          AMY (cont'd)
          Just go to sleep, okay? Let's try
          to go to sleep.
          Stacy lies down next to Amy, in her-underwear and T-shirt.
          They huddle close together in the darkness.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - NIGHT

          Eric is building a tiny lean-to for Mathias, using the duct
          tape, the leftover nylon and poles from the blue tent. Jeff
          crouches over the backboard. He starts to cut Mathias's
          jeans off him with the knife. Mathias's eyes remain shut.

          ERIC
          What're you doing?

          JEFF
          We have to keep him clean.
          He slices the jeans, from ankle to hip, first one leg, then
          the other, struggling not to jostle Mathias's body.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          That's how it'll happen, I think.
          if it does.

          ERIC
          If what does?
          Jeff slides the soiled strips of-denim out from under
          Mathias's body, tosses them aside. He LOWERS his voice:.

          

          

          

          

          73.

          JEFF
          If he dies here. infection. Blood
          poisoning--something like that.
          Eric seems startled by this.

          ERIC
          You think he's gonna die?

          JEFF
          (he shrugs)
          His back is broken. Who knows what
          else.
          Eric is silent, motionless, the tape in his hand. Mathias's
          BREATHING seems to be getting steadily worse. Jeff bends to
          cut off his boxers, first one leg, then the other. He tosses
          the soiled fabric aside.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          We should go back down in the
          morning.

          ERIC
          Down?

          JEFF
          Into the shaft. Try to find the
          phone again.

          ERIC
          There's no oil for the lamp.
          Jeff waves toward the orange tent.

          JEFF
          There's tequila. We could pour it
          on some of the clothes, tie them
          around one of these poles, make a
          torch.
          A sleeping bag is lying in the clearing among the strips of
          nylon and aluminum poles. Jeff steps over to pick it up.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Without the phone, he's dead. If
          we have to wait for someone to come
          searching...
          He shakes his head. Then he leans forward and carefully
          drapes the sleeping bag across Mathias's broken body.

          

          

          

          

          74.

          INT. ORANGE TENT - DAWN

          The orange nylon is just starting to glow with the sun's
          arrival. Stacy and Eric lie beneath one of the sleeping
          bags, Eric's head on her shoulder. Jeff lies curled on his
          side, a few feet away, still shirtless.
          Jeff's eyes open. He sits up, stares about, then reaches for
          one of the backpacks. He quietly digs through it till he
          finds a T-shirt. He sniffs at it, then pulls it on.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAWN

          Mathias lies on his backboard, eyes shut, his breathing still
          sounding THICK WITH PHLEGM. Amy sits beside him, hunched
          into herself, half drowsing. She lifts her head as Jeff
          emerges from the tent, stares at him.

          JEFF
          How is he?

           AMY
          The same.

          JEFF
          And you?

          AMY
          (she shrugs)
          Tired. Thirsty. Hungry.

          JEFF
          Once the others are up, we'll have
          some water.
          His face is stubbled, sweat-stained. He looks ragged; they
          both do. He steps to the opposite side of the clearing,
          unzips, begins to urinate, with his back to Amy.

          JEFF'S POV - ACROSS THE HILLTOP
          The vine covers everything, tangled and matted, with those
          odd, knoll-like growths scattered among it. The nearest-is
          thirty feet away. its leaves are swaying slightly in a faint
          breeze, and WE SEE a flash of yellowish white beneath them.

          

          

          

          

          75.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Jeff finishes, shakes, zips, then steps out into the vine,
          wading toward the tiny mound. Amy remains beside the
          backboard; she watches him crouch, part the tendrils, stare.

          ANY
          What is it?
          Jeff gestures for her to approach. When she reaches him, he
          leans forward, pulls aside the vines. WE SEE a man's skull,
          a loose tumble of bones. Amy INHALES sharply, recoiling.

          JEFF
          Bodies. All of them.
          He waves across the hilltop, at the other mounds: there are
          more than a dozen. Amy takes them in. The light is gaining
          strength, the green leaves seeming to shine in it, the red
          flowers to glow. Jeff's face assumes a puzzled expression.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Where are the birds?

          AMY
          Birds?

          JEFF
          it's dawn--there should be birds.
          They both stare off across the hillside: so quiet, so still.

          INT. ORANGE TENT - DAY

          Stacy opens her eyes. She lies there, struggling to orient
          herself, with Eric on her shoulder. She starts to roll onto
          her side, then stops, looking confused.
          She reaches under the sleeping bag, toward her leg, her
          confusion changing to alarm. She site up, jarring Eric
          awake, and throws back the sleeping bag.

          ERIC

          (BEFUDDLED)
          What...?
          The vine has grown dramatically during the night, reaching
          out from the pile of supplies at the rear of the tent to
          spread across Stacy's right leg, almost to her waist. She
          sits up, tries to push it off her.

          

          

          

          

          76.

          STACY
          Oh my god...
          The vine is clinging to her; she has to tear it, the sap
          shining slickly on her hands, visibly beginning to burn the
          skin. She yanks at the tendrils, tossing them aside.
          STACY (cont'd)
          Help me.
          Eric sits up, still only half-awake. He just stares.
          STACY (cont'd).
          It's inside me...
          It's true: one of the tendrils has pushed its way into the
          wound on her leg, widening it, thrusting itself a full three
          inches into her body, like a thick finger.
          STACY (cont.'d)
          Oh, Jesus--it's fucking inside me.
          She tries to pull the tendril out, but she's too panicky, too
          quick, and the vine breaks, leaving a piece of itself snagged
          under her skin. Stacy starts to SCREAM:
          STACY (cont'd)
          Get the knifes
          Eric is too shocked to stir. He's staring down at her leg,
          at the bulge beneath her skin: it looks as if it's moving.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Stacy's SCREAMING continues. Jeff and Amy are on their feet,
          hurrying across the clearing. Mathias has opened his eyes.

          STACY (O.S.)
          Get the knife!
          Jeff bends, scoops up the knife, starts toward the tent. He
          waves toward Mathias.

          JEFF
          Stay with him.
          Then he ducks in through the tent's flap.

          

          

          

          

          77.

          INT. ORANGE TENT - DAY

          Eric is beside Stacy, trying to calm her; she's started to
          CRY. Her hands and wrists have turned a dark red, and the
          tendril is inside her leg, just to the left of her shin,
          running parallel to it. Jeff steps. toward them.

          JEFF
          What is it?

          ERIC
          The vine. It's inside her.
          Stacy points to her wound, SOBBING now:

          STACY
          Cut it out. You gotta cut it out.

          JEFF
          The blade's dirty. We should--
          Stacy starts shaking her head, FRANTIC:

          STACY
          It's moving! Can't you see?
          Jeff stares at the bulge, hesitating. Then it moves,
          unquestionably: contracting and expanding, like a worm.
          Stacy SHRIEKS:
          STACY (cont'd)
          Jeff!
          Be gives in, crouching over her leg.

          JEFF
          It's gonna hurt.

          STACY
          Please. Hurry.
          He leans forward, slices into the skin above the bulge.
          Stacy CRIES OUT, starts to jerk away, but Jeff presses down
          on her leg, holding her still. He reaches into her wound
          with his finger, digs out the piece of vine, tosses it aside.

          JEFF
          Get me a shirt or something.
          He gestures toward the backpacks, and Eric unzips one of
          them, starts to dig through it.

          

          

          

          

          78.
          He pulls out a T-shirt, hands it to Jeff. Jeff wads it up,
          uses it to put pressure on the incision, staunching the flow
          of blood.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Amy is crouched by the backboard, watching the tent, trying
          to grasp what's happening. Mathias startles her by speaking:

          MATHIAS
          Something's... wrong...
          His voice is thick-sounding, very faint. Amy tries to soothe
          him; she puts her hand on his shoulder.

          AMY
          It's okay. It's just--

          MATHIAS
          my-legs...

          AMY
          I know. You're hurt. But we're.,
          gonna get you--

          MATHIAS
          Show ...me...
          He's struggling to rise, straining upward. Amy tries to stop
          him, pressing down on his shoulder.

          AMY
          Shh.
          But he fights her; he won't be quieted:

          MATHIAS.
          Show-me...
          So she leans, lifts the sleeping bag off him. His lower legs
          are completely covered by the flowering vine, from the knees
          down. Amy and Mathias both stare in surprise. Then Amy
          reaches, starts to yank the tendrils free.

          INT. ORANGE TENT - DAY

          Jeff is leaning forward, pressing the balled-up T-shirt
          against Stacy's wound, the blood darkening the fabric. Stacy
          is lying there, her eyes shut, fists clenched.

          STACY
          I can still feel it.

          

          

          

          

          79.
          Jeff shakes his head.

          JEFF
          I got it out.

          STACY
          I can feel it moving.

          JEFF
          That's just your body. Your muscle
          twitching.

          STACY

          BUT€�

          ERIC
          It's on our clothes.
          Stacy and Jeff both glance at him. There's a faint, almost
          fungus-like green growing on his shirt, an infantile version
          of the vine covering the hillside all around them. It's on
          all of them: their shirts, their pants, their shoes.
          Before any of them can respond to this development, Amy
          starts to CALL from the clearing, sounding SCARED:

          AMY (O.S.)
          Jeff...?
          They all turn toward the flap. Mathias begins to SCREAM.
          Amy's voice JUMPS in volume:
           AMY (O.S.) (cont'd)
          of .I
          Jeff rises, moves toward the flap.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Amy is crouched over Mathias, frantically yanking the vines
          off him. Mathias is struggling impotently to sit up. He
          continues to SCREAM, staring down at his legs.
          Jeff emerges-from the tent, hurries to help Amy, both of them
          tearing at the vine, a flash of white appearing beneath the
          green, shiny and bright: bones. Mathias's legs have been
          stripped completely clean of flesh from the knee down.
          As they keep pulling the tendrils free, blood starts to drip
          from Mathias's knees, slowly at first, but then suddenly
          spurting, spraying them: their chests, their faces. Amy
          jerks backward, GAGGING, RETCHING.

          

          

          

          

          80.
          She jumps up, takes three steps into the center of the
          clearing, and VOMITS, her hands on her knees. She wipes at
          the blood on her face, COUGHS, spits, then bends again,
          another long ribbon of puke slipping free of her.
          Mathias continues to SCREAM and thrash. Jeff reaches for the
          belts, lying in the dirt beside the backboard. He quickly
          ties first one then another around Mathias's legs, twisting
          them into tourniquets, cutting off the flow of blood.
          Stacy and Eric stoop out through the tent's flap: they stand
          there staring, struggling to grasp what's happened. Stacy is
          in her underwear and T-shirt, blood still seeping down her
          leg. Amy turns to face them.
          Mathias is WEEPING now, his eyes shut. The hemorrhaging has
          stopped; blood lies in puddles across the backboard. Jeff is
          covered with it. And then there are the bones: so white, so
          wet-looking, from the knees down, nothing but bone.
          Suddenly, Stacy starts to SCREAM, pointing past Amy, at the
          dirt beyond her. They all turn to look.
          The vine is in motion, a long tendril slipping into the
          clearing, moving snakelike toward the puddle of vomit at
          Amy's feet. Amy backs quickly away.
          A second tendril emerges from the low wall of green around
          the clearing, then a third. They move rapidly, as if racing
          each other; both of them slipping alongside the first into
          the little pool of vomit.
          The tendrils absorb the puke, draining it, until all that's
          left is a damp shadow on the rocky soil. Then they withdraw
          back across the clearing, silently retreating into the larger
          mass of green. Stacy keeps SCREAMING.

          EXT. CLEARING/BASE OF THE HILL - DAY

          Faintly, from up the hill, WE HEAR Stacy's screams. The
          Mayans are finishing their morning meal. They eat in
          silence, showing no reaction to the sound. In the clearing,
          the young Mayan's corpse is buried beneath a thick growth of
          vine.

          EXT.. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          The four of them are sitting by the orange tent. Jeff and
          Amy are still spattered and smeared with Mathias's blood;
          Stacy is still in her underwear.

          

          

          

          

          81.
          e.-
          Jeff is inventorying their food and water. The others watch
          as he puts the perishables in a separate pile: two bananas,
          a plastic bag ofgrapes going brown, an orange, a soggy tuna
          fish sandwich.

          JEFF
          They must've dug it up.

          ANY
          Who?
          He arranges the rest of the food in a second pile: a bag of
          pretzels, a can of nuts, two protein bars, a box of raisins.

          JEFF
          The miners.
          He puts the liquids in a third pile: three bottles of water,
          two of iced tea, a can of Coke. That's all there is.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          And then the Mayans cleared the
          jungle around the hill, I guess.
          To keep it quarantined. That's why
          they won't let us leave, don't you
          think? They're afraid we'll spread
          it?
          The others are silent. Jeff reaches for the tuna fish
          sandwich. He carefully unwraps it.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Or else...I don't know. Maybe it's
          something religious? And we're
          some sort of sacrifice?
          He glances at the others, but once again no one responds.
          They all look dazed: knocked back into themselves. Jeff
          picks up the knife, wipes it on his jeans.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          They must've done the same thing
          with the archaeologists. And
          Henrich. Trapped them here. Like
          us.
          He cuts the sandwich into four equal sections.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          And then somehow it killed them
          off. All of them. one by one.
          This is too much for Eric; he.leaps up, looking panicky.

          

          

          

          

          82.

          J011

          ERIC
          We have to find the phone. We have
          to go back down and--
          Jeff makes a calming motion.

          JEFF
          We'll eat first. Drink some water.
          We have to stay calm. Not rush at
          things.
          He holds out one of the tiny squares of sandwich. Eric
          hesitates, then accepts it, dropping back into a crouch.
          Jeff hands Amy her square.

          AMY
          What about Mathias?
          She nods toward him, and they all turn to look. From his
          knees down, Mathias's legs are nothing but bone, tendon, and
          ropy clots of blackened blood. His face looks gray. His
          eyes are shut, and his breathing sounds terribly RAGGED.

          JEFF
          He wouldn't be able to stomach it.
          Jeff offers Stacy her ration. She takes it, but almost
          absentmindedly. She seems distracted; she keeps prodding at
          her wound with her fingertip.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Stop it, Stacy.

          STACY
          It's still in there. I can feel
          it.
          She keeps probing. Jeff shakes his head, a little it' ATIENT:

          JEFF
          I told you. I got it out.
          Jeff pops his square of sandwich into his mouth; Eric and Amy
          eat theirs, too. Stacy's ration remains in her hand; she
          seems to have forgotten it. She's sunburned, sweat-stained,
          glassy-eyed. Eric leans toward her, looking worried.

          ERIC
          Eat, Stacy. You have to eat.
          She places the tiny sandwich into her mouth, chews, swallows,
          staring at her wound the whole time. Then:

          

          

          

          

          83.

          STACY
          See? How puffy it is?

          ERIC
          That's just swelling. It's
          natural.
          (he turns toward Jeff)
          Right?

          JEFF
          (he nods)
          It's what happens when you get
          hurt.
          Jeff picks up one of the water bottles, twists off its-cap.
          He offers the bottle to Stacy.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          one swallow apiece.
          The bottle makes its way around their little circle. When it
          returns to Jeff, he takes his sip, caps the bottle. Eric is
          watching Stacy, her anxious probing; he looks increasingly
          distressed by it. He jumps up again.

          ERIC
          The phone. Let's find the phone.
          Jeff doesn't move. Stacy's bloodied khakis. are lying in the
          dirt beside him, and he reaches for them, starts to cut off
          their legs with the knife, just above the knee.

          JEFF
          We need to take care of Mathias,
          first. He won't last much longer
          like that.
          Amy looks appalled; she makes a shushing motion.

          ANY
          Shh.
          They all glance toward Mathias again. He lies there, eyes
          shut, breathing in and out with that fluid-filled RASP. He
          seems to be unconscious, but Jeff still LOWERS his voice:

          JEFF
          We have to cut them off.

          ERIC
          Cut what off?

          

          

          

          

          84.

          JEFF
          His legs.
          He's finished with Stacy's khakis; they've been transformed
          into a pair of shorts. He tosses them toward her. Eric and
          Amy are staring at him, shocked into silence. Then:

          ERIC
          You're joking.

          JEFF
          He'll die if we don't.

          AMY
          Without anaesthesia?

          JEFF
          There won't be any pain. He has no
          feeling beneath his waist.

          ERIC
          He'll lose too much blood.

          JEFF
          The tourniquets are already in
          place. We'll cut below them.

          ERIC
          With what?
          Jeff holds up the knife. Eric SCOFFS at the idea:
          ERIC (cont'd)
          That wouldn't do a thing. You'd
          need a bone saw.

          JEFF
          We could break the bones. Then
          cut.
          Amy is shaking her head; she looks mortified.

          AMY
          No, Jeff. No way.

          ERIC
          What about infection? Cutting into
          him with a dirty knife?

          JEFF
          We'll sterilize it. Build a fire.
          Heat the blade in the flames.
          It'll cauterize as it cuts.

          

          

          

          

          85.

          A 

          AMY
          You'll kill him.

          JEFF
          Or save him. One or the other. We
          can't just--

          STACY
          Cut me first. Right here.
          Stacy has stood up, pulled on the shorts Jeff has fashioned
          for her. She's bent over, pointing at a spot on her leg, a
          few inches below the last incision.
          STACY (cent'd)
          Sterilize the knife and--
          Eric steps toward her, tries to soothe her.

          ERIC
          There's nothing there, Stacy. It's

          JUST--
          She hardly seems to hear him. She's frightened, growing a
          little wild with it. Her voice comes FAST AND HIGH:

          STACY
          It's moving. I can feel it moving.

          ERIC
          You're imagining it. You're
          scared, and you--

          STACY
          I gotta get out of here. I gotta
          get to a hospital. I gotta--
          Eric takes her hand, squeezing it. Stacy blinks at him,
          close to tears.

          ERIC
          You have to calm down. Can you do
          that? Can you try to calm down?
          Stacy pulls free of him, drops into a crouch, hugging her
          knees to her chest, her eyes shut.

          STACY
          See if there's a signal.

          ERIC
          A what?

          

          

          

          

          86.

          STACY
          Your phone. Check your phone.
          Eric doesn't move: he knows there's no point.
          STACY (cont'd)
          Check it.
          Eric SIGHS, steps to his pack, crouches to remove his phone.
          He flips it open, holds it out to Stacy. She stares down at
          it: there's no signal. Eric drops it back into his pack.
          Then he turns to Jeff.

          ERIC
          We go back down. We find the other
          phone. We call for help. That's
          how we get out of here. That's how
          we save him.

          JEFF
          It'11 take too long.

          ERIC
          One call, Jeff. They'll be here by
          sundown.

          JEFF
          And Mathias will already be dying.
          You understand? There's no flesh
          covering his bones. They're--
          Mathias's voice interrupts him, from the backboard. Very
          HOARSE, barely audible:

          MATHIAS
          Do...it...
          They all turn, stare toward him. His eyes are open.
          MATHIAS (cont'd)
          Please...
          (a beat)
          Cut... them... off...
          He slowly, painfully, extends his left hand toward them, a
          beseeching gesture.

          CU - SMALL PILE OF CLOTHES
          A pair of shorts, a woman's blouse, two black socks.

          

          

          

          

          87.

          JEFF (O.S.)
          I'll have to break the bones first.
          An amber liquid is being poured onto the clothes, very
          slowly. WE PULL BACK TO REVEAL:

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Eric is crouched, dribbling the tequila onto the clothes,
          pausing to let it soak in, saturating the fabric. Jeff is
          kneeling by the backboard, talking to Mathias.

          JEFF
          With the stone. Then I'll use the
          knife to cut.
          A large stone sits beside the pile of clothes, shaped like an
          ax head. There's the knife, too, and the metal canteen from
          the orange tent.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          We'll heat the canteen, and
          cauterize the wounds with it. To
          stop the bleeding.
          Eric strikes a match: the clothes catch instantly, burning
          with a low blue flame. He sets the knife in the fire, then
          the stone, and splashes more tequila on them. The girls
          stand in the center of the clearing, watching.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          You shouldn't be able to feel a
          thing. But you can bite this if
          you want. Just in case.
          He holds up one of the belts. Mathias hesitates, then opens
          his mouth, and Jeff sets it carefully inside. Mathias clamps
          down, gripping it between his teeth. Jeff glances at Eric.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Ready?
          Eric nods.- The stone is making a cracking sound in the fire,
          glowing a.deep red. Jeff turns back to Mathias.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          You?
          Mathias also nods, shutting his eyes. There's a small towel
          in the dirt beside Jeff, and he. picks it up, wrapping it
          around his hand. He looks over his shoulder at the girls.
          They both seem terrified, shaky with it.

          

          

          

          

          88.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          You should wait in the tent.
          Amy starts to shake her head, but then Stacy is in motion,
          grabbing her hand, pulling her across the clearing, and she
          lets herself be led.
          Jeff watches them vanish through the flap, then reaches
          toward the fire with his towel-swathed hand. He scoops up
          the stone, raises it over his head, SLAMS it down with all
          his strength against the exposed bones of Mathias's left leg.
          Mathias bucks, GROANING; his eyes jump open. Jeff drops the
          stone back into the fire,. snatches out the knife. Mathias is
          trying to rise onto his elbow, straining to see what's
          happening.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Hold him.
          Eric sets the canteen into the flames, sloshes some tequila
          on it, then shifts.to the backboard. He presses down on
          Mathias''s shoulders. Mathias is WHIMPERING, twisting his
          head back and forth, gripping the belt tightly in his teeth.
          Jeff starts to saw with the knife, chopping and cutting the
          splintered bones. Bloody marrow spills wetly out, and then
          Mathias's.lower leg comes free of his body, the foot and
          ankle and shin bones completely separate now.
          Jeff lifts the bones away, drops them into the dirt beside
          the backboard. Then he turns, uses the towel to pluck the
          canteen out of the fire: it, too, is glowing red.
          He presses the canteen flat against Mathias's stump, the
          flesh SIZZLING and SPITTING. Mathias bucks even more
          forcefully; he spits out the belt, CRIES OUT:

          MATHIAS
          Stop...stop...
          Jeff ignores him, dropping the canteen back into the fire,
          lifting out the stone. Eric looks increasingly mortified; he
          seems close to tears.

          ERIC

          JEFF--

          JEFF
          Reep him still.
          He turns, SMASHES the stone into Mathias's right leg.
          Mathias begins to SCREAM, bucking against Eric's grip.

          

          

          

          

          89.

          INT. ORANGE TENT - DAY

          Mathias's SCREAMS fill the tent. Amy and Stacy are sitting
          together, clutching each other; Stacy is CRYING. Amy is
          staring toward the flap with a look of horror.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Jeff saws and chops at the shattered bones with the knife.
          Mathias continues'to SCREAM. Eric is using all his weight to
          hold him still, his head averted, his eyes clenched shut.
          Jeff lifts the severed bones.away from the backboard, drops
          them at his side. Then he scoops up the canteen again. As
          he presses it to Mathias's stump, Mathias finally passes out,
          his body going slack, his screams falling SILENT.
          For a long beat, there's just the SPITTING, SNAPPING sound of
          Mathias's flesh being seared. Then Eric pulls back into a
          crouch, shaking his head, looking utterly depleted.

          ERIC
          Oh, Jesus. Jesus Christ.
          Amy emerges from the tent, then Stacy. They stand staring.

          AMY
          He felt it, didn't he? The whole
          thing.
          Jeff lifts the canteen away.

          JEFF
          He couldn't have.

          AMY
          He was screaming. Be was telling
          you to stop.

          JEPF
          It was just seeing it. Looking
          down, and--
          Amy is shaking her head, staring at Mathias with that
          appalled expression: his slack face, his burned stumps.

          AMY
          This is bad, Jeff. So bad.
          Jeff leans to loosen first one tourniquet, then the other.

          

          

          

          

          90.

          JEFF
          We've bought him some time. He
          wouldn't have--

          AMY
          You cut off his legs! You--
          Stacy SCREAMS, pointing toward Mathias's amputated limbs.
          They're lying in the dirt at the base of the backboard, the
          bloodstained bones held together with a few remaining cords
          of flesh. A vine has come snaking into the clearing: it's
          wrapping itself around one of the feet.
          As the tendril begins to drag. the bones away, a.second one
          slithers forward and lays claim to the other foot.
          Eric grabs the knife, jumps up, steps on the first tendril,
          bends to slash at it with the blade. He swoops toward the
          second one. Even as he does so, though, a third tendril
          slithers into the clearing, then a fourth.
          Stacy SCREAMS again, short and loud, and backs toward the
          tent; Eric bends and slashes, bends and slashes, and the'vine
          keeps coming, from all directions, reaching for the bones.

          JEFF
          Leave it.
          Eric ignores him, cutting and stomping and tearing at the
          tendrils, faster and faster, but still too slow, the vine
          fighting back, wrapping itself around his legs.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Eric.
          He steps toward him, grabs his arm, pulls him away. They
          stand side by side, watching as the vine pulls the severed
          limbs into itself, the white of the bones vanishing into the
          larger mass of green. Stacy has begun to CRY again.
          There's a beat of stillness, and then, once more, echoing up
          toward them from the shaft, comes that faint electronic
          RINGING of the cell phone.

          CU - THE WINDLASS
          Spinning, the rope spooling quickly off the barrel.

          JEFF (O.S.)
          I don't know how long it'11 burn--

          WE PULL BACK TO REVEAL:

          

          

          

          

          91.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Eric is pulling the rope off the windlass, laying it out in a
          long zigzag across the clearing. Jeff is crouched by the
          shaft, making a torch. The girls stand over him, watching.

          JEFF
          So you'll have to be quick.
          He has one of the aluminum poles from the blue tent. He's
          wrapped duct tape around its bottom for a grip, tied some of
          the archaeologists' clothes around the top. He's dribbling
          tequila on the knot of fabric, saturating it.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Wait to light it till you're both
          down there. Then--

          STACY
          Who?
          Jeff looks up at her, startled by the question. Eric is
          moving along the length of rope, bent low, checking its hemp
          for signs of weakness.

          JEFF
          Who what?

          STACY
          Who's going?

          JEFF
          You and Amy.
          They all look bad, but Stacy looks the worst: her wounded
          leg,, -her greasy hair, a panicky edge to every gesture. She
          shakes her head, with vehemence.

          STACY
          No, Jeff. No way. Not me.
          Jeff caps the tequila bottle, gives Stacy a tired look.

          JEFF
          We've already been through this.
          Eric and I need to work the winch.
          You're not strong enough.
          Eric has reached the end of the rope; he stands up, wiping
          his hands on his pants.

          

          

          

          

          92.

          ERIC
          It's clear.
          He moves to the windlass, starts to wind the rope back onto
          the barrel. They've tied a sling on the rope's end again.
          Stacy is pressing her right hand against the bottom of her
          rib cage: massaging, probing

          STACY
          Why can't Amy go on her own?

          JEFF
          The torch won't last that long. We
          need you both there, searching.
          Stacy starts shaking her head again, TERRIFIED:

          STACY
          I'm not going. I can't.

          JEFF
          You don't have a choice, Stacy.
          Amy can see where this is headed; she tries to divert it.

          AMY
          It's okay. I'll go alone.
          Jeff ignores this. He rises to his feet, still focused on
          Stacy. WE can HEAR his growing anger in his voice:

          JEFF
          if we don't find the phone, Mathias
          will die. Understand?
          Stacy is silent, hugging herself, staring at the ground.
          Eric has finished winding the rope onto the windlass. He
          tries to intervene:

          ERIC

          JEFF--
          Jeff ignores him, his gaze on Stacy.

          JEFF
          So that's what you're saying. Just
          to be clear. That you're not
          willing to help him live.

          ERIC
          Come on, man. She's too scared.

          

          

          

          

          93.

          JEFF
          I don't give a fuck. I'm scared,
          too. We all are.

          ERIC
          it was inside her.

          JEFF
          And we got it out. Now she needs
          to stop being such a fucking baby,
          stop being so selfish, and--
          Eric is stepping toward him suddenly, right up against him,
          forcing him back a step.

          ERIC
          ,hut Up. Okay?
          He's bigger than Jeff, stronger, and this is suddenly very
          palpable. Their faces are three inches apart. A tense beat,
          and then, more QUIETLY:
          ERIC (cont'd)
          You're being too hard.
          Jeff gives him a look of incredulity, almost disgust.

          JEFF
          Hard?

          ERIC
          Just leave her be.
          Jeff turns away from him, from all three of them. He stares
          off across the hill for a beat, then shakes his head.

          JEFF
          I'm the only one thinking. I'm
          carrying the whole fucking load.

          ERIC
          So stop. Lay it down.
          Jeff turns back to him, gives him a look of pure contempt; WE
          can HEAR his fury rising again as he speaks:

          JEFF
          This isn't just going to work out
          on its own, Eric. You know?
          Magically?

          ERIC
          I'm not saying--

          

          

          

          

          94.

          JEFF
          We could end up dead here. All of
          us. Is that what you want?

          ERIC
          Of course not.

          JEFF
          Then get the fuck out of my way,
          and start helping me.
          He holds Eric's eyes long enough to confirm that Eric isn't
          going to protest, then he glances past him at Stacy.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          You going or not?
          Stacy-is still staring at the ground, her hand probing at her
          chest. It's clear she doesn't want to go, but Jeff has
          shamed her into silence. Amy reaches, touches her arm.

          AMY
          .'-11 be right there. Okay? We'll
          be together the whole time.
          A long beat, then Stacy manages a nod. It's enough for Jeff;
          he pushes past Eric, moving toward the windlass.

          JEFF
          Get in the sling, Amy.
          Amy turns, reaching for the sling.

          EXT. BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT - DAY

          A faint fall of light from above. There's the CREAKING of
          the windlass: Amy is dropping slowly toward us. When her
          feet touch the bottom of the shaft, she scrambles out of the
          sling. Then she lifts her head, SHOUTS:

          AMY
          Pull it up!
          The CREAKING resumes. She stands there in the dimness,
          watching the sling rise away from her. She has the makeshift
          torch in one hand, the box of matches in the other.

          

          

          

          

          95.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING

          Eric is helping Stacy into the sling, pulling it over her
          head; Stacy's hands are shaking badly. Eric hugs her, trying
          to calm her. Jeff waits beside the hand crank.

          THE BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT
          Amy is in a crouch. She keeps glancing toward the stone arch
          cut into the shaft's wall, and the passageway beyond it: the
          vine dangles from.the low ceiling, like streamers at a party.
          The CREAKING resumes, and Amy looks up.

          AMY'S POV - ABOVE HER
          Stacy is dropping slowly toward us.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Amy glances toward the arch again. A slight draft blows
          steadily from it, and the vine shifts and trembles in it. A
          beat, then the RINGING starts up once more. It's coming from
          within the shadowed passageway.
          Amy opens the box of matches, plucks one out. She's too
          jumpy, though; her hands are-trembling so much that she
          shakes the match out as soon as it's lit.
          There's a second RING. Stacy has nearly reached us.
          Amy digs another match from the box. Stacy's feet touch the
          bottom of the shaft; she yanks off the sling. There's a
          third RING.

          STACY
          Hurry.
          Amy strikes the match, holds it to the knot of clothing at
          the end of the aluminum pole. The alcohol catches with a
          FLUTTERING sound, a cloud of pale blue fire materializing
          around the torch. Amy lifts it, and they start into:

          THE UNDERGROUND PASSAGE
          Stacy is in front, with Amy right behind her. The torch
          shudders weakly in the steady draft; the shaft's ceiling is
          low enough that they have to crouch as they move forward.
          There's a fourth RING, drawing them deeper down the passage.

          

          

          

          

          96.
          The tendrils hanging from the ceiling brush against them.
          The vine is growing on the floor, too--knee-deep--and from
          the walls on either side. Amy is moving cautiously,
          squinting into the darkness, and Stacy starts to pull ahead.

          AMY
          Wait...
          She pauses, lifting the torch, but Stacy keeps going. Amy
          peers at the vine hanging from the wall. There's a fifth
          RING, echoing eerily, and the flowers move in exact unison
          with the sound, their stamens vibrating, like so many
          miniature tuning forks: the plant is making the noise.
          AMY (cont'd)
          Stacy...
          The shaft dead-ends at a blank wall, which is just
          materializing out of the darkness, fifteen feet in front of
          them. There's a sixth RING. Stacy points at the wall,
          quickening her pace.

          STACY
          It's right here. I can--
          Amy jumps forward, reaching for her.

          AMY

          DON'T--
          But there's another RING, and Stacy keeps going: she's
          nearly at the wall.

          STACY

          IT'S--
          Stop!
          Amy grabs her arm, hard, jerks her back a step, pulling her
          close, the torchlight flickering over them. She WHISPERS:
          AMY (cont'd)
          There's no phone.

          STACY
          What?
          A seventh RING sounds, seeming to come from beneath the vines
          on the floor of the shaft, directly in front of them. Stacy
          tries to pull free, to bend and reach toward the sound.

          

          

          

          

          97.
          STACY (cont'd)
          I can--
          Amy jerks her back again, WHISPERS straight into her ear:

          ANY
          It's the vine. The flowers.
          They're making the noise.

          STACY
          No. It's--
          She pulls free, steps forward, and her foot seems to punch
          straight through the shaft's floor. She SCREAMS, losing her
          balances Amy throws down the torch, lunges for her. The
          torch flutters, pales, but remains lit.
          The vines growing across the floor fall away, revealing an
          opening, another shaft, dropping into the earth. Stacy is
          slowly sliding into it, scrambling to stop herself.
          Amy grabs Stacy arm. Stacy is dangling, from the waist down,
          over the hole's edge. There are vines in the hole, too, and.
          they begin to coil around her legs, pulling at her, dragging
          her downward.
          Stacy SCREAMS again, kicking to free herself, scrambling
          upward, monkey-like, while Amy pulls at her, and finally they
          manage to drag her to safety.
          A beat, then Amy retrieves the torch, holds it out over the
          hole. The bottom is twenty feet down, almost lost in shadow.
          Dimly, WE SEE a woman, lying curled against the wall--she has
          long dark hair.
          STACY (cont'd)
          Oh my God.
          The woman stirs, her body rolling, as if to turn and look at
          us, and WE SEE her face: she's a corpse. The vine has
          invaded her flesh--it's in her eye sockets, the hollow of her
          mouth, writhing and churning. Stacy and Amy SCREAM.
          There's a WHISTLING sound, like a whip, and a tendril lashes
          out from the shaft's wall, wraps itself around the torch's
          handle, yanks it from Amy's grip. The torch falls into the
          hole, still burning. When it hits bottom, a mass of vine
          surges across it, smothering its flame.
          It's very dark after this: Amy and Stacy are barely
          discernible. A beat of silence, then an odd, high-pitched
          CACKLING rises all around them; it sounds like laughter--
          eerie, childlike, full of echoes.

          

          

          

          

          98.
          As it steadily increases in volume, that WHISTLING comes once
          more: the vines SMACK at them from the floor, the ceiling,
          the walls, coiling around their bodies, pulling them toward
          the open shaft.
          They both SCREAM again, scrambling backward, while the vine
          keeps coming, more and more of it, grabbing at their arms,
          their legs, their necks. They stumble over each other,
          falling onto their hands and knees.amid the.tendrils.
          The vine catches at them, tries to hold them down. It's not
          strong enough, though; they yank it off, and thrash their
          way, foot by foot, back toward the sling, the vine lashing at
          them, grabbing, tearing, sap leaking onto their skin. The
          laughter grows still louder, the whole shaft ECHOING with it.
          Amy reaches the sling first, with Stacy right behind her.
          Even here, the vine continues to attack them, whipping and
          HISSING and LAUGHING. Amy holds the sling toward Stacy.

          AMY
          You.
          But Stacy is too hysterical: she just stands there, SOBBING,
          SCREAMING. Jeff's voice comes toward them from above,

          SHOUTING:

          JEFF (0.S.)
          Amoy...?
          Amy pulls the sling over her own head. YELLS:

          AMY
          Pull us up!

          JEFF (O.S.)
          Did you find it?

          AMY

          NMI
          She reaches out, grabs Stacy, wrapping her arms and legs
          around her. Stacy returns the embrace, both of them
          clutching at each other, as the windlass finally begins to
          CREAK, lifting the two of them into the air.

          ON AMY AND STACY - IN THE SLING
          The vines hanging from the shaft's walls whip at the girls as
          they rise, coiling around their bodies, pulling at them, that
          strange LAUGHTER growing ever louder, seeming to buffet their
          bodies. Stacy and Amy grip each other with all their
          strength, eyes shut tight. Stacy SCREAMS.

          

          

          

          

          99.

          EXT. CLEARING/BASE OP. THE HILL - DAY

          The SCREAM comes faintly toward us. The Mayans are arrayed
          about their campsite, all of them motionless, silent, staring
          up the hill with their impassive expressions.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DUSK

          The weather has shifted; a wind has risen. The sun is
          setting, a red smudge behind a dark gray wall of clouds.
          Mathias lies.on his backboard, unconscious, his breathing
          coming in that ragged RASP, a thread of brown liquid leaking
          from the corner of his mouth. Amy is crouched beside him;
          she leans forward, wipes away the liquid.
          Stacy sits in the clearing behind her, leaning against Eric.
          They're both slick with sweat, but Stacy keeps shivering, as
          if cold. Eric's arms are around her, and her eyes are shut.
          Jeff is peeling the orange. Like Amy, he's still spattered
          and stained with Mathias's blood. The vine has continued to
          grow on everyone's clothes, weblike, eating away at the
          fabric. Jeff reaches, tugs free a strand of it, and a six-
          inch tear appears in his T-shirt.
          Stacy opens her eyes; she leans forward, peers down at the
          wounds on her leg, her right hand moving to her chest,
          probing at her rib cage. She turns to Eric:

          STACY
          Check your phone.
          Eric pushes himself to his feet, steps toward his pack. He
          pulls out his phone, flips it open. He shakes his head.
          STACY (cont'd)
          Let me see.
          Eric carries the phone to her, then stands over her while she
          opens it, stares down at it. She shuts it, opens it again.
          Then again, and again, and suddenly she's CRYING, bent into
          herself. Eric drops to a crouch, rests his hand on her knee.

          ERIC
          Shh.
          But her crying increases; she begins to SOB. Jeff is bent'
          over the orange, dividing it into four equal piles--its peel,
          too--concentrating. He lifts his head, stares. Amy stands
          up, hurries over., kneels in front of Stacy, takes her hand.

          

          

          

          

          100.

          AMY
          It's okay, sweetie. You're okay.
          Stacy keeps WEEPING, uncontrollably, shaking her head.

          STACY
          I wanner go home. I wanna leave...

          ERIC
          Shh...
          She's WAILING, rocking back and forth; she can't seem to
          stop. Amy struggles to calm her.

          AMY
          Stacy...
          Stacy keeps WAILING, rocking, eyes shut. Amy leans in close.
          AMY (cont'd)
          Let's play the game...can you do
          that? Huh? Can you give me a
          "So"?
          Stacy continues to CRY.
          AMY (cont'd)
          Come on. Just try. Can you try?
          (a beat)
          So there was this girl who wanted
          to be a pilot.
          Stacy's tears keep coming. Amy looks at Eric, gives him a
          nod,'prodding him into speech. He hesitates, then:

          ERIC
          But she was scared of heights.

          AMY
          So she became a lifeguard instead.
          (she squeezes Stacy's

          HAND)
          Come on. Your turn.
          More SOBS. Amy glances across the clearing at Jeff, wanting
          him to join in, too. It seems as if he might refuse, but
          then her look hardens, and he relents.

          JEFF
          But she couldn't swim.

          

          

          

          

          101.

          AMY
          So she wore a life vest.
          (she squeezes Stacy's hand

          AGAIN)
          Come on. Now you.
          A beat, then Stacy takes a deep, ragged breath. She wipes at
          her face, struggles for words.

          STACY
          But everyone...
          She trails off, CRYING again. Amy nods, encouraging her.

          AMY
          Yeah...? Everyone what?

          STACY
          They laughed at her.

          AMY
          Good. That's good. So she--
          Very suddenly, it starts to rain--a dozen large, heavy drops.
          They all glance skyward.

          JEFF

          SHIT€�
          He springs to his feet. And then: a downpour, a deluge, as
          if a trap door has swung open in the clouds. The rain falls
          in a loud, drumming rush, turning the clearing to mud.
          Eric jumps up, too. He and Jeff start digging through the
          backpacks from the. blue tent, searching for something--
          anything--in which to catch the water. They find a small
          plastic bag, a nylon toiletry kit, a Frisbee. Jeff sets
          these in a row on the ground, open to the rain.
          Eric rushes to the orange tent, vanishes inside. Amy tilts
          back her head, tries to catch the rain in her open mouth.
          Stacy just sits there, hugging herself, shivering, still half-
          crying. They're all drenched, back-spattered with mud.
          And then, as abruptly as it had begun, the rain starts to
          slacken. Eric reemerges from the orange tent, carrying a
          thermos, a plastic cup. He sets them next to the other
          containers, but it's pointless; the rain is already stopping.
          They all stare at these meager receptacles: they've managed
          to catch less than half an inch of muddy-looking water. Jeff.
          GROANS; he's FURIOUS with himself:

          

          

          

          

          102.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          We should've been ready. We

          SHOULD'VE-
          He kicks the Frisbee across the clearing. Amy jumps up.

          AMY

          JEFFT
          She steps forward, as if to guard the other containers.

          JEFF
          It doesn't fucking matter.

          AMY
          There was water in it.
          He spins toward her, turning his fury with himself on her:

          JEFF
          How much, Amy? Two and a half
          gallons? 'Cause that's what we
          need. For today--just to make it
          through today. And then tomorrow
          the same all over again. And for
          how long? Another week before our
          parents start searching? And then
          what? How long till they track us
          to Coba? Or to this fucking hill?
          How long will it take, Amy?

          AMY
          You said--

          JEFF
          It's not gonna happen. We're not
          gonna make it.
          The others stare at him in astonishment, too 'stunned to
          speak. He gives them all a look of disgust:
          JEFF (cont'd)
          And you're fucking playing games.
          (mimicking Amy's voice)
          So there were these people trapped
          in the jungle.

          AMY
          Don't, Jeff.

          JEFF
          But they didn't have any water.

          

          

          

          

          103.
          Amy looks as if she might start crying.

          AMY
          Please, don't.

          JEFF
          So they're gonna die of thirst.
          Amy covers her ears with her hands.

          AMY
          Shut up!

          JEFF
          But this fucking vine might kill
          them first.

          AMY

          (SHOUTING)

          STOP IT!
          Jeff paces away, struggling to regain control of himself. A
          long beat, and then, very QUIETLY:

          JEFF
          I'm sorry ...I'm sorry.
          He steps back toward the dismembered orange, crouches over
          it. The fruit and peels are muddy now, spoiled looking. He
          waves for the others to approach.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Come on. We need to eat.
          No one moves. They're all staring at him with their shocked
          expressions. He can't seem to meet their eyes. He gestures
          at the orange again.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          The peel, too. Everything.
          Abeat, then the others step forward to claim their portions:
          first Eric, then Stacy, then Amy. They eat without speaking.
          Finally, almost AS IF TALKING TO HIMSELF:
          JEFF (cont'd)
          It'll rain again. It has to. And
          we'll figure out a way to catch it.
          (he nods to himself)
          We'll be fine. We'll ration the
          -food. And then, you know, we'll
          just...we'll tough it out..

          (MORE)

          

          

          

          

          104.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          People have survived for weeks with
          nothing. Just water, a little bit
          of water. So why not us?
          No one responds. They continue to eat: the fruit, the
          peels. Their torn clothes cling wetly to them. Jeff uncaps
          the water bottle, offers it to Amy. She drinks, passes it
          on. It moves around the circle, back to Jeff.

          ERIC
          What about the vine?
          Jeff takes his sip, caps the bottle. He's reclaiming
          himself, his voice strengthening, his confidence returning.

          JEFF
          I don't think it can hurt us. Not
          directly. if it could, it already
          would've, wouldn't it? Why would
          it wait?
          The others are silent, considering this. Then:
          JEFF (cont'd)
          It's not strong enough to overpower
          us. And it--
          Mathias GASPS suddenly, his entire body spasming for a
          moment, before the watery RASP of his breathing resumes. He
          doesn't regain consciousness; his eyes remain shut. Everyone
          watches him for a beat: he, also, is spattered with mud.

          AMY
          He's gonna die, isn't he? if
          there's no phone, then there's no--

          STACY
          Me, too.
          They all turn to look at her. She's massaging that spot on
          her rib cage again, digging into it with her fingers.
          STACY (cont'd)
          It's eating me. Just like him.
          And her.
          She waves toward the shaft. Jeff gives her a weary look.

          JEFF
          Don't, Stacy. Don't start.
          She jumps up, begins to pace, agitated.

          

          

          

          

          105.

          STACY
          It's inside me. In my leg. My
          chest. I can feel it. Right here..
          She stops pacing, lifts her shirt. She points to the base of
          her rib cage.
          STACY (cont'd)
          See?
          Jeff stares; there's nothing there. He shakes his head. The
          knife is lying in the mud beside him, and Stacy steps
          forward, snatches it up. Jeff reaches to stop her, but he's
          too slow. She stands before him, hefting it. in her hand.

          JEFF
          Put it down.

          STACY
          I'll show you.
          She lifts her.shirt again, pressing at her rib cage with her
          .fingertips. Jeff stands up, holds out his hand.

          JEFF
          Give it to me. Right now.
          Amy and Eric stand, too.

          ERIC

          STACY--
          But she's already cutting: a four inch slit along the base
          of her rib cage. Amy SCREAMS. A horizontal line of blood
          crests the wound, sweeps down across Stacy's stomach, soaking
          into the waistband of her shorts. She watches it, frowning.

          STACY
          I thought it would just come
          tumbling out.
          She probes at the cut with the point of the knife, prying it
          farther open, the bleeding increasing. Jeff reaches, grabs
          the knife from her. He looks furious:

          JEFF .
          Sit down.

          STACY
          It's hiding. It's right--
          She pokes her finger into the wound, digging. Jeff slaps her
          hand away. He YELLS:

          

          

          

          

          106.

          JEFF
          a il h� f down i
          He shoves her down, onto her back, then picks up the towel
          he'd used to hold the heated stone. He balls it up, presses
          it to Stacy's wound. Eric retrieves the bottle of tequila
          from the mud, uncaps it. He crouches beside Stacy.

          ERIC
          Don't yell. she's just scared.

          SHE'S--

          JEFF
          what're you doing?
          He's lifting the bottle toward Stacy's mouth, but he
          hesitates now, turning toward Jeff.

          ERIC
          Just a sip. To calm her.

          JEFF
          It'll dehydrate-her.

          ERIC
          A sip, Jeff.
          He starts to lift the bottle again. Jeff shoves it aside.

          JEFF
          I said Q.

          STACY
          Leave him alone.
          She tries to sit up, but Jeff pushes her back down, hard.

          JEFF
          You realize how stupid you're
          being? Sticking that dirty knife

          INTO--

          STACY
          It's growing.

          JEFF
          of ina's.inside you. You're
          imagining it, and you just--

          STACY
          I'm gonna end up like her. That
          girl. I'm gonna--

          

          

          

          

          107.
          r -

          JEFF
          Get infected. Understand? You're
          gonna get yourself killed.

          STACY
          You're not listening.

          JEFF

          BECAUSE--

          STACY
          (shouting, very loud)

          YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!
          A beat of startled silence, and then her voice comes again,
          from across the hilltop, sounding exactly like her, only
          slightly fuzzed, a rasping quality just beneath the words:

          STACY'S VOICE

          YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!
          They all turn to look, but there's nothing there, just the
          vine, its green leaves, its bright red flowers. Stacy's
          voice comes once more, from the.opposite direction now:
          STACY'S VOICE (cont'd)

          YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!

          ERIC
          What the--
          Stacy's voice keeps coming, switching locations, seeming to
          float across the hilltop; they turn, tracking it.

          STACY'S VOICE

          YOU'RE NOT LISTENING...! YOU'RE

          NOT LISTENING...! YOU'RE NOT

          LISTENING...!
          Amy steps toward Jeff, looking frightened.

          AMY
          The Mayans.

          JEFF
          (shaking his head)
          No--it's the vine. It's mimicking
          her.
          Stacy has started to CRY; she covers her ears with her hands.

          STACY
          Make it stop.

          

          

          

          

          108.

          STACY'S VOICE

          YOU'RE NOT LISTENING...! YOU'RE

          NOT LISTENING...! YOU'RE NOT

          LISTENING...!

          STACY
          Please. Make it stop.

          STACY'S VOICE

          YOU'RE NOT LISTENING...! YOU'RE

          NOT LISTENING...! YOU'RE NOT

          LISTENING...!
          Stacy tries to sit up, but Jeff pushes her back down. Se's
          still crouched over her, pressing the towel to her wound;
          it's completely soaked through with blood now. Stacy YELLS:

          STACY
          Shut up...!
          Stacy's voice continues, but now that high-pitched LAUGHTER
          is coming, too, a chorus of it, growing in volume:

          STACY'S VOICE

          YOU'RE NOT LISTENING...! YOU'RE

          NOT LISTENING...! YOU'RE NOT

          LISTENING...!
          Stacy's weeping has deepened to SOBS. She keeps YELLING:

          STACY
          Shut up...! Shut up...!
          The LAUGHTER grows steadily LOUDER, obscuring Stacy's voice:
          WE SEE the flowers trembling, visibly vibrating as they
          sculpt the sound...

          EXT. CLEARING/BASE OF THE HILL - DUSK

          The light is fading fast. One of the Mayan women is cleaning
          a pot with a handful of leaves. Three of the men sit facing
          the hillside, their bows in their laps. The others are
          bedding down beneath the trees.
          The LAUGHTER echoes down the hill, eerie and ghoulish, yet
          the Mayans betray no reaction to it, as if it were no more
          worthy of note to them than the steady RASPING of the locusts
          in the jungle at their backs.

          

          

          

          

          109.

          INT. ORANGE TENT - NIGHT

          Jeff, Stacy and Amy lie side-by-side in the darkness. The
          liquid RATTLE of Mathias's breathing comes from the clearing,
          sounding as if someone were sawing at a tin can.
          Jeff and Stacy are asleep; Amy is stirring restlessly,
          shifting first onto one side, then the other. Finally, she
          rises, moves toward the flap, slips quietly through it.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - NIGHT

          The moon is out, dropping its faint light upon us. Mathias
          is on his backboard beneath the little lean-to, more audible
          than visible, with his PHLEGM-CLOTTED breathing. Eric is
          beside him. He looks up as Amy emerges from the tent.

          ANY
          Now is he?
          Eric shrugs, waves toward the backboard: it seems clear
          enough. Amy stares-for a moment, then sits beside him.
          AMY (cont'd)
          You can go lie down if you want.
          Eric lifts his hand, pushes a button on his watch, makes it
          glow. He squints at it.

          ERIC
          I still have forty minutes.

          AMY
          I don't mind. I can't sleep.
          Eric checks his watch again, its glow briefly illuminating
          his face. He gestures toward the tent.

          ERIC
          Is Stacy?

          AMY
          They both are.
          There's a slight breeze, and the tent makes a FLAPPING SOUND
          in it. They both turn to stare at it. Then:
          AMY (cont'd)
          Do you think it's inside her?

          

          

          

          

          110.

          ERIC
          (he shakes his head)
          Jeff cut it out. I saw him.

          AMY
          But she says she can feel it.
          Moving. Shifting about.
          Eric waves this aside.

          ERIC
          You know how Stacy is. She's just
          scared. She gets things in her
          head, and---
          Mathias makes a RETCHING sound--loud, wet, painful--and they
          both turn,•peering at his gaunt form through the darkness.
          He falls QUIET; his eyes don't open. A beat, then:
          ERIC (cont'd)
          I've been sitting here, you know,
          making all these deals in my head
          with God. You ever do that?
          Amy just stares at him. He has his arms wrapped around his
          knees, hugging them to his chest.
          ERIC (cont'd)
          Like I say, okay, you can fire me
          on the first day teaching if that's
          what you want--just let us make it
          home. But that doesn't mean shit,
          'cause I don't even really want the
          job, and He has to know that,
          doesn't He? So I say, all right,
          Stacy can leave me, you know, or
          even, I don't know, I'll give up a
          finger, okay? Or two fingers. Or
          fuck it, take a hand, take my left
          hand, but let us just get home, all
          of us.
          (a beat)
          And then I look at him--
          (he nods toward Mathias)
          --and I can't help it, I'm, like,
          take him if you need to, take
          Mathias, and let the rest of us go.
          That's fucking horrible, isn't it?
          And once I've said it, I feel like
          I can't take it back, you know?

          (MORE)

          

          

          

          
          ERIC (cont'd)
          Like the words have gone up into
          the sky and God's sort of thinking
          about them now, making his choice,
          and if Mathias dies and we don't,
          it'll be.like I killed him, won't
          it? Like I--
          Amy starts to CRY; she covers her mouth with her hand. Eric
          stares at her in surprise.
          ERIC (cont'd)
          What? What is it?
          Amy shakes her head. She struggles to stop, but she can't.

          AMY
          I'm sorry ...I'm so sorry...
          (a beat)
          It's my fault.

          ERIC
          what is?

          AMY
          If I hadn't stepped onto the hill--
          Her crying INCREASES. Eric leans, touches her hand.

          ERIC
          That's stupid, Amy. That's--

          AMY
          Jeff said it. He said--
          Eric reaches, puts his arm around her, trying to quiet her.

          ERIC
          He didn't mean it. There's no way.
          He was just--

          AMY
          We might not have...

          ERIC
          Shh. Don't.
          She rests her head on his shoulder, WEEPING, her body shaking
          with it, while he pats her, stroking her hair.

          

          

          

          

          112.

          INT. ORANGE TENT - NIGHT

          Stacy and Jeff, eyes shut, sleeping. Very SOFTLY, there
          comes a faint PANTING, rhythmic, furtive sounding. Stacy's
          eyes open; she lies there, listening.
          There's a MOAN, and the PANTING QUICKENS. Stacy rises to a
          sitting position. She listens for another beat, then leans,
          prods at Jeff. He awakes with a jerk, blinking up at her.

          JEFF
          Wh--?
          Stacy holds her finger to her lips, silencing him.. From
          outside, there's another MOAN. Jeff sits up, listening. The
          PANTING is BUILDING toward a climax. Jeff leans toward the
          pile of supplies at the tent's rear, squinting at the tangle
          of vine growing across it. He points, WHISPERING:
          JEFF (cont'd)
          It's the--
          But Stacy is already pushing herself to her feet. She moves
          quickly to the tent's flap, UNZIPS it, crouches out into:

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - NIGHT

          Mathias's breathing continues its RAGGED course. Amy is
          still leaning into Eric, her head on his shoulder. He has
          his arm around her. He looks up, blinking, as Stacy emerges
          from the tent into the moonlight.

          . STACY
          What the fuck, Eric?
          Amy lifts her head, wipes at her face; Eric drops his arm
          from her shoulder. They both stare at Stacy, startled by her
          anger. Jeff appears behind her, stepping through the flap.

          ERIC
          What?

          STACY
          We heard you.

          ERIC
          Heard me what?

          STACY
          Fucking her.

          

          

          

          

          113.
          Eric looks from Stacy to Jeff, completely perplexed.

          ERIC
          What're you talking about?

          JEFF
          The vine. it made it sound as if
          you two--
          Stacy turns toward him, SNORTING, shaking her head.

          STACY
          You're so blind.

          JEFF
          I could hear it. At the back of
          the tent. It was--

          STACY
          It doesn't make things up. It
          mimics things. Things it's heard.

          JEFF
          Then it's heard someone having sex
          at some point.
          Slowly, quietly, a tendril has begun to slither forward
          through the darkness, creeping in beneath the lean-to,
          snaking toward Mathias, toward his head. Jeff and the others
          are all too focused on one another to notice.

          STACY
          That was Ay, Jeff. Moaning.

          AMY
          What?
          Jeff reaches, touches Stacy's arm, struggling to calm her,
          but she flinches from him.

          JEFF
          it's doing this on purpose.' Can't
          you see? It thinks you're the
          weakest--because you're hurt. So
          it's trying to upset you. Trying

          TO--

          STACY
          You're not upset? He had his arm
          around her. He--
          Amy leans forward, hands out, BESEECHING:

          

          

          

          

          114.

          AMY
          Nothing happened, Stacy. I was
          crying. And Eric--

          STACY
          We he-ar you.
          The vine starts to push its way in between Mathias's lips,
          into his mouth. Mathias makes a GAGGING sound, but doesn't
          regain consciousness: once more, no one notices.

          JEFF
          We heard the vine. It--

          STACY
          You're such a fool, Jeff. You
          think she's never cheated on you?
          Perfect little angelic Amy?

          AMY
          Stacy.

          STACY
          I could tell you secrets. I could
          open your eyes.

          AMY
          Shi i up. Right now.
          A second tendril has slithered under the lean-to. It covers
          Mathias's nose, drawing itself tight. The steady rasping of
          his breathing is CUT OFF. Yet again, no one notices.

          STACY
          Spring break? Senior year?

          AMY
          You bitch. You stupid cunt.
          Stacy spins on her, VENOMOUS:

          STACY
          Fuck you. Slut.
          (back to Jeff)
          Twice, Jeff. Two different guys.
          And one of them--
          Jeff grabs her arm, grips it, silencing hers

          JEFF
          Enough, Stacy. Stoll.

          

          

          

          

          115.
          Stacy falls SILENT; she seems as astonished by what she's
          said as everyone else.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Where do you think you are? Huh?
          Why would you even care--at this
          point, if they were out here
          fucking? We're trapped. We don't
          have any food. Or water. And

          MATHIAS--
          He turns, stares: sees. He darts forward, starts to yank
          away the tendrils. They resist him, writhing, clinging to
          Mathias's face. Eric and Amy both jump up. Stacy has
          started to CRY, shaking her head, MORTIFIED:

          STACY
          Oh, god...oh please no...
          Jeff bends close to Mathias's face, listening; he checks
          Mathias's neck for a pulse. A beat, then he turns toward the
          others, shakes his head. Stacy begins to SOB:
          STACY (cont'd)
          I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...
          Eric reaches, takes her into his arms, hugging her.

          EXT. CLEARING/BASE OF THE HILL -- FROM UP THE HILL - DAWN

          The hillside falls away from us, the narrow trail winding
          down its face to the clearing and the wall of jungle beyond.
          The sun is just rising, and the vine seems to shimmer in it.
          Three of the Mayan encampments are visible from here: one
          directly beneath us, one to the left, another to the right.
          Thin ribbons of smoke rise from their campfires.

          EXT. HILLTOP - TOP OF THE TRAIL - DAY

          Jeff stands there, staring down toward the jungle. Eric and
          Stacy are sitting together in the clearing behind him,
          holding hands; Stacy is still CRYING softly. Amy approaches
          across the hilltop, stops beside Jeff.

          JEFF
          They must've salted the soil.
          That's the only way I can think.
          He turns, glances at Amy. She has no idea what he's talking
          about. He waves down toward the Mayans.

          

          

          

          

          116.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          To keep the ground clear. It grows
          so quickly...
          He gestures at their clothes, upon which that green webbing
          of vine continues to spread, eating away at the fabric.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          It's old, too--has to be. Really
          old. Because the birds, the
          insects... somehow they've evolved.
          They've learned not to land here.
          (he peers about them, at
          the vine-covered hill)
          And the horses. Remember? How
          frightened they were? They knew,
          too.
          They stand in silence for a beat, staring down the hill
          toward the Mayans. Then Amy reaches, touches Jeff's arm.

          AMY
          It didn't happen.
          Jeff turns, stares at her. she waves back toward the tent.
          AMY (cont'd)
          Eric and I, we were just---

          JEFF
          I know.

          AMY
          And what she said. About spring
          break. I--
          Jeff reaches, presses his finger to her lips.

          JEFF
          Shh.
          Amy falls silent, watching him. He lowers his finger.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Have you made it up with her?
          Amy half-nods, half-shrugs.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Good.

          AMY
          But I want to tell you--

          

          

          

          

          117.
          He presses his finger to her lips again, stopping her. He
          waits a beat, and then:

          JEFF
          I wish it mattered.
          Amy gives him a confused look. Jeff throws out his hand,.
          gesturing at the hilltop, the vine, their tattered clothes.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Look at us.
          (a beat)
          Would it matter to you?
          Amy hesitates, considering. Then she shakes her head. And
          with that, Jeff turns, starts back toward the orange tent.
          WE HEAR a zipping sound, which carries over into:

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Jeff is crouched beside the backboard, UNZIPPING the sleeping
          bag. Eric tosses the flimsy lean-to aside, exposing
          Mathias's corpse-to the sun. Amy and Stacy stand watching.

          JEFF
          Head first?
          Eric considers this, staring down at Mathias's body.
          Mathias's face is burned red from the vine's sap; his legs
          are two blackened stumps. Eric shrugs.

          ERIC
          I guess.

          JEFF
          You'll have to lift him.
          Eric hesitates; he seems reluctant to touch the corpse.
          Finally, he girds himself, straddles the backboard, grabs
          Mathias under his armpits, lifting him. Jeff leans forward,
          starts to pull the sleeping bag over Mathias's head.
          The corpse seems intent upon resisting them; its arms keep
          getting tangled, catching and snagging. Jeff and Eric have
          to wrestle with it, both of them PANTING, sweating, before
          they manage to shove it into the bag.
          Jeff ZIPS the bag shut, and they stand over it, catching
          their breath, wiping the perspiration from their faces.

          ERIC
          Should we say something?

          

          

          

          

          118.
          Jeff gives him a blank stare.
          ERIC (cont'd)
          Like, you know ...a prayer?
          Jeff frowns down at the bag, searching for words. Before he
          can find them, Stacy speaks:

          STACY
          Where's the knife?
          They all turn. Her hand is under her tattered shirt,
          pressing at her lower back. Jeff SIGHS:

          JEFF

          STACY--
          She lifts her shirt, twisting to show him. it looks as if a
          large starfish has been implanted just beneath her skin.
          It's moving, too, inching slowly but visibly downward. They
          all stare in astonishment.
          Amy GASPS, points at Stacy's leg. Stacy bends to see:
          there's more vine here, a snakelike lump winding its way
          upward from the top of her shin to her inner thigh.

          CU - FIRE
          Another small pile of clothes, burning with that blue,
          alcohol-fueled flame.

          AMY (O.S.)
          Can I give her some?
          The knife is placed in the fire, and WE PULL BACK TO REVEAL:

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Amy holds up the bottle of tequila. Jeff is crouching over
          the fire, heating the knife's blade. Be glances toward her,
          nods. Stacy is sitting down, staring at the bulge in her leg
          with a dazed expression. Eric is beside her.
          Amy offers the bottle to Stacy;-they all watch as she takes a
          long swallow. Then she hands the bottle back to Amy, and
          Jeff pulls the knife from the fire, carries it toward her.
          He gestures to Eric and Amy.

          JEFF
          Hold her hands.

          

          

          

          

          119.
          They each take one of her hands. Jeff crouches over her leg.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          You might want to shut your eyes.
          Stacy shakes her head.

          STACY
          I want to see.
          Jeff hesitates; for a moment it seems-as if he might argue.
          But then, very quickly, he leans forward and draws the knife
          in one smooth movement up and around Stacy's leg. Stacy
          MOANS, her body tensing, but she doesn't cry out.
          The incision reveals the vine, a foot long, its leaves and
          flowers clotted with Stacy's blood, which is oozing from the
          wound. Jeff reaches in, pries the tendril from her flesh.
          Stacy MOANS again, arching backward, as the vine emerges:
          writhing and twisting. The blood comes more thickly now,
          pumping from the wound, running down her leg.
          Jeff drops the tendril into the dirt, steps on it, grinding
          it into stillness. Stacy is breathing HARD, almost
          hyperventilating. She's shut her eyes.

          JEFF
          Should I stop?
          Stacy shakes her head, vehemently. Jeff glances at the
          others. Eric shakes his head, too. Amy's eyes, like
          Stacy's, are tightly shut.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          You'll have to roll over.
          Stacy lets go of the others' hands, rolls onto her stomach.
          She hitches up her shirt, revealing the small of her back,
          the starfish-shaped bulge. Jeff crouches at her side.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Ready?
          She nods, and he leans, makes five quick incisions, in the
          shape of an asterisk, directly above the bulge. Stacy's body
          goes rigid, and Eric takes her hand again. Once more, we can
          see the tendril through the incision: dark with her blood.
          Jeff reaches in and slowly pulls the vine from her body.
          There's an astonishing amount of it; he has to drop the knife
          and use both hands to drag the slimy mass free.

          

          

          

          

          120.
          As the plant emerges from her body--thrashing, coiling and
          uncoiling, covered in half-clotted blood, like a newborn--
          Stacy starts to SCREAM.

          EXT. CLEARING/BASE OF THE HILL - DAY

          The Mayans at their campsite: three of them on guard duty,
          the others napping in the shade beneath the trees. Stacy's
          SCREAMING echoes down the hill toward us.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          They've pulled a shirt from one of the backpacks, torn it
          into strips, and used these to bandage Stacy's wounds, tying
          them around her leg and torso. She's lying on her side, eyes
          shut, her head in Eric's lap. He's stroking her hair.
          Jeff is counting the grapes into four separate piles. Amy
          sits watching him. When he finishes, he gestures for her to
          take a pile. Then he scoops Stacy and Eric's rations up,
          carries them over.

          JEFF
          Can you eat?
          Stacy sits up, wincing; her bandages are soaked through with
          blood. She takes the grapes from him; Eric does, too. They-
          all begin to eat, in silence. When they're done, Jeff passes
          the water bottle around their circle. Then:
          JEFF (cont'd)
          We should try to rest, I guess.
          (he waves toward the tent)
          Get out of the sun. We're losing
          moisture out--

          STACY
          There's more of it.
          She leans forward, probes at her right thigh, prodding the
          skin. The others watch her; there's no bulge visible, no
          sign of the vine-at all. Eric gives her a pained look.

          ERIC
          There's nothing there, Stacy.

          STACY
          It's under the muscle. Down by the
          bone.

          

          

          

          

          121.
          She keeps pushing at her leg. She glances from Eric to Amy
          to Jeff. No one says anything.
          STACY (cont'd)
          Cut me and see. Right here.
          She uses her finger to draw a line up her thigh.

          JEFF
          You're losing too much blood. And
          if any of these get infected---

          STACY
          My calf, too.
          she lifts her right leg, turning it to show the others. Jeff
          bends to look. Again, there's no visible sign of the vine.
          He shakes his head.

          JEFF
          No more cutting. Not unless---
          The knife is in the dirt beside him, and Stacy leans forward,
          tries to grab it. Jeff is too quick for her, though: he
          snatches it up, tucks it into his belt. Stacy is becoming
          more and more upset. She holds out her hands, BEGGING:

          STACY
          Please, Jeff.

          ERIC
          You can't. You can't keep--
          Stacy is starting to CRY; her mouth is trembling.

          STACY
          It's everywhere.
          She's prodding at her body: her legs, her chest and stomach.
          Amy scoots toward her, grasps her hand.

          ANY

          STACY--
          Stacy yanks her hand free, clutches her scalp, WEEPING:

          STACY
          It's in my head! I can feel it in
          my head!
          Amy takes Stacy in her arms, hugging her tight..

          

          

          

          

          122.

          AMY
          Shh.
          Stacy SOBS into Amy's shoulder, her body jumping. Amy
          strokes her. Eric steps across the clearing, picks up the
          bottle of tequila. He glances at Jeff, and Jeff nods.
          AMY (cont'd)
          You're scared, honey. You're just
          scared. You know?
          Stacy nods; she's still CRYING, but it's growing quieter.
          Eric crouches beside her, holds out the bottle of tequila.
          Stacy just stares at it. Amy encourages her:
          AMY (cont'd)
          It'll help.
          Stacy accepts the bottle, takes a long swallow. Then
          another. The others watch her in silence. Finally:
          AMY (cont'd)
          Can you rest some? In the tent?
          Stacy is silent. She wipes the tears from her face.

          STACY
          That girl--
          (she waves at the shaft)
          I keep seeing her. When I shut my
          eyes.

          AMY

          (NODDING)
          I know...I know.
          (she stands up, holds out
          her hand)
          Let's just lie down for a bit.
          Okay?
          Stacy hesitates, staring up at Amy. Then she reaches, grasps
          her hand. Amy pulls her to her feet, helps her hobble across
          the clearing to the tent. Jeff and Eric sit-there, watching
          in silence as they vanish through the flap.

          INT. ORANGE TENT - DAY

          Sunlight filters through the orange nylon; all four of them
          lie sleeping in a row, sweating. The vine has shredded their
          clothes to tatters; they look like castaways. The tent's
          flap hangs open, billowing gently in a slight breeze.

          

          

          

          

          123.
          Stacy open her eyes. She lies there, staring up toward the
          orange nylon above her. The blood on her bandages has dried
          to a dark red, bordering on black. She sits up, stares about
          the tent. Eric is on one side of her, then Amy, then Jeff.
          Jeff is on his back, the knife still tucked into his belt.
          Stacy rises quietly, steps over Amy, crouches above him,
          staring down at the knife. She reaches, tries to slip it
          free, but then jerks back when Jeff shifts in his sleep.
          She hesitates, watching him. She seems as if she's about to
          try again, but then the tent flap billows in the breeze,
          drawing her gaze. A beat, and she rises, steps carefully
          over Jeff, ducks outside into the clearing.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Stacy stands just beyond the tent's.flap. All is still,
          quiet.- She moves to Eric's pack, crouches over it, pulls out
          his phone. She flips it open, stares down at its screen:
          there's still no signal. She drops it back into the pack.
          She turns-to examine the clearing, her eyes falling upon the
          two backpacks from the blue tent. Their pockets are zippered
          open: Jeff and Eric's hurried pillaging during the downpour
          has scattered their contents across the dirt.
          Stacy rises, steps toward this tangled mound. She starts to
          dig through it, casually at first, but then with growing
          intensity, throwing T-shirts and jeans and shorts aside,
          probing deeply into the pile.
          Suddenly she goes still. Staring. Amid the sodden mass of
          clothing sits a knife in a small scabbard.
          As Stacy crouches there, the vines start to RUSTLE, a
          rippling motion passing across them, as. if a wind were
          sweeping the hillside. Stacy watches with a look of horror:
          it looks like the pelt of some giant animal, shaking itself.
          When it finally stops, she bends, reaching for the knife.

          INT. ORANGE TENT - DAY

          Jeff, Eric, and Amy, still sleeping. The tent's flap
          continues to billow in the breeze. Very faintly, from the
          clearing, WE HEAR a moan. Then the sound of WHIMPERING.
          Eric opens his eyes, listening. An instant later, very
          abruptly, there comes a sharp, rending SCREAM of pure pain.
          Eric jumps up, starts for the flap; Jeff is right behind him.

          

          

          

          

          124.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Eric emerges from the tent, then Jeff, then Amy. They stand
          there, staring, too horrified to move.

          AMY
          Oh my God.
          Stacy is on the far side of the clearing. She's pulled off
          her shirt, her shorts, and has cut much of the skin from her
          body. She doesn't notice them. She's bent over, slicing
          into her left thigh, peeling the skin back from the muscle.

          ERIC

          STACY--
          She turns, blood-streaked, wild-eyed, the knife in her hand;
          her skin is hanging from her in shreds. We can see her leg
          muscles, her abdominals, a glint of bone at her left elbow.
          Jeff starts forward, holding out his hand, very STERN:

          JEFF
          Give it. Now.
          Eric follows him. Amy stays by the tent; she's begun to CRY.

          AMY
          Please, honey. Just--
          Stacy shakes her head; she's CRYING, too, her whole body
          shaking. Her hair is matted with blood; she looks terrified.

          STACY
          I have to get it out. It's--
          Jeff darts forward, tries to grab the knife from her, and she
          slashes at him, SHOUTING:
          STACY (coat'd)
          Leave me alonel
          The blade slices into his palm. Jeff jumps back, cradling
          his hand at his chest.
          STACY (cont'd)
          I have to--
          Eric steps toward her, from behind, reaching around her body
          for the knife, and she spins, reflexively, trying to fend him
          off. But the knife is in her hand, and it punches into his
          chest, just to the right of his sternum, sticking there.

          

          

          

          

          125.
          Eric looks at the knife in surprise. It's twitching back and
          forth with the beating of his heart. He starts to reach for
          it, but then his legs give out. He collapses, dropping to
          the dirt, which has grown muddy with Stacy's blood.
          Amy SCREAMS.
          Stacy's CRYING deepens; she takes a step toward Eric, but
          then her own body fails her. She falls to her knees in the
          bloody puddle, reaching toward him.
          STACY (cont'd)
          Oh, no...no...no... I'm--
          Eric is on his back; he struggles up onto one elbow. He
          tries to speak, but only a GAGGING sound emerges, blood
          frothing at his mouth. It's pumping thickly from his wound,
          too, saturating his shirt.
          STACY (cont'd)
          I didn't...
          Eric drops back again. He struggles RAGGEDLY for breath.
          Jeff lowers himself to his knees beside him, hesitating
          impotently over him, uncertain what to do. Stacy is SOBBING,
          shaking her head. There's blood everywhere.
          STACY (cont'd)
          Kill me...
          Jeff turns, stares at her. Amy steps forward, crouches
          beside her. She takes Stacy's hand.

          ANY
          Shh.

          STACY
          Please. Just--

          ANY
          Shh.

          STACY
          It hurts. It hurts so much.
          Eric tries to rise again. The blood surges from his wound
          when he moves. Jeff presses him back down.

          JEFF
          Easy. Try to--
          Stacy clutches at Amy, begging, her voice HOARSE with pain:

          

          

          

          

          126.

          STACY
          Kill me. I can't
          She stops in mid-sentence, staring. Jeff and Amy follow her
          gaze. A half dozen tendrils are snaking into the clearing,
          reaching toward Eric's body.
          Jeff jumps to his feet. The tendrils begin to wrap
          themselves around Eric's limbs, and Jeff bends to tear them
          away. More and more keep coming, though. Eric has started
          to convulse, GAGGING, his head cocked back.
          Jeff keeps yanking the tendrils away, but there are far too
          many of them; they coil around Eric's legs, pulling at him.
          The blood has stopped pumping from his wound; his body has
          gone still.

          AMY
          Jeff I
          She points toward the tent. Jeff turns to see.

          JEFF'S POV - ACROSS THE CLEARING
          The sleeping bag in which they'd enshrouded Mathias is
          moving: he's thrashing about within it, struggling to sit
          up. And he's SHOUTING, too, his voice MUFFLED by the bag:

          MATHIAS'S VOICE

          HENRICH...! HENRICH...!
          He seems to be tearing at the bag with his arms.

          BACK TO SCENE
          Jeff hesitates just for an instant, staring in astonishment,
          then he's sprinting across the clearing. He bends, struggles
          for the zipper.

          JEFF
          It's okay. I'm right here. I'm--
          He UNZIPS the bag, and an immense tangle of vine cascades out
          onto the dirt. Its flowers are a pale pink; they're opening
          and closing, still calling, louder now:

          MATHIAS' S VOICE

          HENRICH...! HENRICH...!
          The thick clot of tendrils writhes spasmodically, coiling and
          uncoiling.

          

          

          

          

          127.
          Entwined within it are Mathias's bones, already stripped
          clean of flesh. The vine falls SILENT. A beat, then it
          starts to laugh, a low mocking CHUCKLE.
          On the opposite side of the little clearing, Stacy begins to
          SCREAM, shaking her head, SOBBING.

          STACY

          KILL ME...! KILL ME...!
          Jeff stands there, perfectly still. Amy is holding Stacy,
          struggling unsuccessfully to quiet her:

          AMY
          Shh. Shh.
          The vine's laughter grows steadily. LOUDER, punctuated by
          Stacy's SHOUTS:

          STACY

          KILL ME...! KILL ME...:
          Amy turns, stares at Jeff. Blood is running off Stacy's body
          in strings. The vine has dragged Eric to the edge of the
          clearing; only his head and torso are still visible. Jeff
          strides toward him.
          STACY (cont'd)

          KILL ME...! KILL ME...!
          Jeff bends, yanks the knife from Eric's chest. Then he
          starts across the clearing toward Stacy.

          EXT. CLEARING/BASE OF THE HILL - DAY

          The Mayans in their campsite. They're all staring up the
          hill, listening. Stacy's voice ECHOES toward us:

          STACY (O.S.)

          KILL ME...! KILL ME...I KILL--
          And then, abruptly, it goes SILENT.

          EXT. HILLTOP - THE CLEARING - DAY

          Amy sits beside Stacy, who lies on her back in the puddle of
          blood, arms thrown out, the knife stuck hilt-deep in her
          chest. Eric's body is barely visible at the edge of the
          clearing; the vine RUSTLES softly as it consumes him.

          

          

          

          

          128.
          Jeff is pulling their remaining supplies from his knapsack:
          the bananas, the raisins, the pretzels, the protein bars, the
          nuts, the water, iced tea, and Coke. He has a bloody strip
          of fabric tied around the wound on his hand.
          Amy watches as he arranges the food in front of her. She's
          CRYING silently, tears running down her dirt-smeared cheeks.
          Jeff peels one of the bananas: it's dark brown, far too
          ripe. He holds it out to her. She just stares at it.

          JEFF
          Come on. You'll need the energy.
          He reaches for her hand, puts the banana in it. She holds
          the fruit, but makes no move to eat. Finally, VERY QUIETLY:

          AMY
          I still think we should wait.
          Jeff SIGHS: it's clear they've already been through this.

          JEFF
          You'll only get weaker.

          AMY
          They'll come looking. You said

          THEY'LL--

          JEFF
          Nobody's coming.

          AMY
          Our parents--

          JEFF
          All they'll find are our bones.
          Amy is silent, staring down at the banana.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          We don't have time for this, Amy.
          You'll need as much daylight as
          possible.
          He waves upward, toward the sun, which has passed its peak,
          begun its slow slide westward. Amy squints toward it for a
          beat, and then, almost despite herself, lifts the banana to
          her mouth. She bites, chews, swallows, still mutely crying.
          Jeff peels the second banana; he hands it to her as soon as
          she finishes the first. Be watches her eat,.silent. He's
          tearing open the bag of pretzels when another tendril snakes
          into the clearing.

          

          

          

          

          129.
          They both watch it, neither of them moving. It's joined by a
          second tendril, then a third, a fourth;.the vines coil around
          Stacy's body, begin to drag it from the clearing. Amy's
          CRYING grows more forceful, her body shaking.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Shh.
          Jeff reaches, strokes her. The vine pulls Stacy's body into
          itself, burying it. Amy watches, struggling to control.
          herself. Her voice emerges as little more than a WHISPER:

          AMY
          I don't want to. I don't...
          She shakes her head, wipes at her face: the tears, the snot,
          the sweat, the dirt. Her clothes are falling off her body,
          eaten to shreds. Jeff's, too.
          AMY (cont'd)
          Why can't we both?
          Jeff hesitates a.beat. Then, clearly not believing it:

          JEFF
          We might.
          He hands her the pretzels; she takes them, watching his face.

          AMY
          How?

          JEFF
          It'll take them a moment to react.
          If I can make it to the trees...
          He trails off, shrugs. Amy keeps staring at him; she doesn't
          believe this either. He SIGHS again, holds up his hand,
          pulls the bandage from his wound: it's three inches long, a
          deep gash into his palm.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          How long till it's inside me?
          Amy is silent. He flexes his hand, and the wound opens,
          mouthlike, blood oozing thickly from it.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          It already is, probably. I'll be
          just like Stacy soon.
          He turns, glances toward the spot where her body has
          disappeared. Amy looks, too.

          

          

          

          

          130.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Then what? You, all alone on this
          hill... you know how that would end,
          don't you?
          Once more, Amy is silent. He waves for her to keep eating,
          and she starts in on the pretzels, mechanically. He opens
          the can of Coke, hands it to her; she takes a long sip.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Once you're in the jungle, you drop
          and hide.
          Another tendril slithers forward. It slips into the immense
          puddle of blood beside Jeff and Amy, begins to drink it.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          They'll never find you--it's too
          thick in there. Just burrow down,
          and they'll run right past.
          Jeff opens the can of nuts, sets it in front of Amy. Then he
          gets up, crouches over the puddle of blood. He cups. his
          hands, dips them into the puddle. He steps toward Amy,
          smears the blood across her T-shirt. Amy keeps eating.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          It's sudden movements that'll get
          you caught. So take your time.
          You step, then listen. Then
          another step, and listen again.
          He moves back to the puddle, which the lone tendril continues'
          to drain. He cups his hands, scoops up more blood, smears it
          on her tattered khakis. Amy has finished the pretzels; she
          reaches for the nuts, looking numb..
          JEFF (cont'd)
          East, always east--keep the sun at
          your back.
          He scoops up more blood from the puddle.
          JEFF (cont'd)'
          Arms.
          Amy holds out her arms, and he smears the blood on them.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          You'll hear me yell. I'll yell
          your name.

          

          

          

          

          131.
          He returns yet again to the puddle, then stands over her, the
          blood cupped in his hands, dripping.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          And you can't hesitate.
          Understand? Not for an instant.
          Amy nods, and he uncups his hands over her head. She shuts
          her eyes as the blood runs into her hair, down her forehead,
          her neck, her face.

          EXT. CLEARING/BASE OF THE HILL - DAY

          Three of the Mayan men, as usual, sit in the clearing, bows
          in their laps, facing the hill. The others are sheltering
          from the sun in the line of shade along the jungle's margin,
          some sleeping, some talking quietly together.
          One of the men in the clearing suddenly rises to his feet,
          nocking an arrow. The other two also rise. The Mayans along
          the clearing fall silent, staring up the hill.

          THE MAYANS' POV - UP THE HILL
          Jeff is approaching down the trail, carrying Amy, pieta-like,
          in his arms. Her body is limp, apparently lifeless, and
          dripping with blood.

          BACK TO SCENE
          The bald Mayan emerges from the tree line, followed by yet
          another man with a bow. They join the other three Mayans in
          the center of the clearing. They all watch as Jeff reaches
          the base of the trail, where he carefully lays Amy down.
          Jeff crouches over Amy, laying her arms across her chest,
          pushing the hair from her face. He bends, kisses her blood-
          smeared forehead. Then he glances up at the Mayans.

          JEFF
          You don't even know her name.
          The Mayans just stare at him. He rises to his feet, pulling
          the knife from his belt: it's darkly stained with. blood.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          You should. You should know who
          you're killing.

          

          

          

          

          132.
          He steps out into the clearing. The bald Mayan pulls his
          pistol from its holster, raises it, aiming at Jeff's chest.
          The others draw their bows. Jeff smiles, taps his sternum.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Jeff. Understand? My name's Jeff.
          He edges along the clearing's margin, keeping close to the
          vines, moving away from Amy's body. The Mayans follow him,
          weapons raised. After a handful of steps, he stops again,
          turns toward them.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Can you say it? Huh?
          Again, the Mayans just stare. He SLAPS at his chest.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Jeff.
          A beat, then he suddenly YELLS, waving the knife at the men.
          JEFF (cont'd)

          SAY MY FUCKING NAME!
          Silence. The Mayans stand there with their weapons raised,
          waiting to see what he might do. A beat, then he starts
          walking once more, along the clearing's edge, away from Amy.
          Another ten yards and he stops again, waves up the hill.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          There's Stacy, too. And Eric.
          Mathias. And Henrich. You've
          killed them all.
          He steps toward them. The bald man raises his hand, holds it
          up, palm out, next to his pistol. Jeff smiles at him again.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          But not everyone.
          He LAUGHS, a little wildly, and shakes his head.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          Look at you, you stupid fucks. You
          have no idea what I'm saying, do
          you?
          He takes another step into the clearing. The bald man COCKS
          his pistol, loudly. Several of the other Mayans have emerged
          from the jungle; they stand there watching.

          

          

          

          

          133.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          One of us is gonna survive. You
          should know that name, too. You
          fuckers. You bastards.
          He takes yet another step forward. The bald man speaks a
          string of words IN MAYAN, with an edge of warning. More
          Mayans emerge from-the jungle, shielding their eyes against
          the sun, staring. No one is looking in Amy's direction.
          JEFF (cont'd)
          It's not Jeff.
          He shakes his head, his voice dropping, almost to a WHISPER:
          JEFF .(cont'd)
          It's not me.
          He takes another step. And then, still QUIETLY:
          JEFF (cont'd)
          It's Amy. You hear?
          He takes a deep breath, gathering himself. Then he YELLS--
          JEFF (cont'd)

          AMY;
          --and starts to run, straight at the Mayans. He only manages
          three steps before the bald man FIRES his pistol, and the
          others let their arrows fly.
          The bullet hits Jeff in the chest, just beneath his throat.
          One of the arrows misses; the other three strike his stomach,
          his left arm, his right thigh. Before he even hits the
          ground, there's a SHOUT from the Mayans along the treeline.
          The bald man turns. Amy is on her feet, sprinting for the
          jungle. The bald man raises. his pistol, FIRES, but the shot
          is too hurried; it goes wide. The others are still
          scrambling for fresh arrows as she vanishes into the trees.
          The bowmen sprint after her, disappearing into the jungle,
          leaving the bald man alone in the clearing with Jeff. The
          Mayan women stand motionless along the treeline, staring.
          after Amy: they look mortified, grief-stricken.
          Jeff is bleeding heavily from his wounds, struggling to crawl
          forward, his breath frothing pinkly at his lips. A half
          dozen tendrils slither into the clearing. They coil around
          his legs, start to drag him back toward the hill. Jeff
          fights them, kicking, MOANING, bleeding.

          

          

          

          

          134.
          The bald man watches. He, too, looks grief-stricken. He
          steps forward, aims at Jeff's head. As he FIRES, WE:

          CUT TO A BLACK SCREEN
          WE HEAR footsteps, moving quickly down a tiled floor.

          DOCTOR (O.S.)
          (a slight Spanish accent)
          She flagged down a tour bus, just
          west of Coba--
          The voice CARRIES OVER into:

          INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - MOVING - NIGHT

          A Mexican DOCTOR, in his late fifties, balding, a little
          stooped, his white jacket buttoned over a shirt and tie, is
          hurrying down the corridor, accompanied by TERESA, a dark-
          haired woman in beige slacks, a blue blouse.
          Teresa has- a leather briefcase, a Blackberry on her belt.
          She's holding Amy's passport,. which she examines as they
          walk. It's smeared with dried blood.

          DOCTOR
          --and collapsed before the driver
          even managed to open the door.
          The corridor is brightly lit, very clean. Rooms open off it
          on either side, and we glimpse the still.forms of sleeping
          patients as we pass, IVs hanging from metal stands beside
          their beds. It's very quiet.
          DOCTOR (cont'd)
          She revived briefly, just after
          they brought her in. She was in
          bad shape--severely dehydrated,
          traumatized, in shock. And
          terribly frightened. It was
          impossible to make any sense of
          what she was saying. She was
          sobbing, hysterical. We had to
          sedate her.
          The doctor has a manila folder under his arm; he opens it,
          pulls out a piece of paper: a color printout of a digital
          photo. He hands it to Teresa.
          DOCTOR (cont'd)
          Her clothes were torn; she was
          covered in blood. But not her own.

          

          

          

          

          135.
          Teresa stares down at the photo: it shows Amy on a gurney,
          unconscious, blood-smeared, corpse-like.

          TERESA
          Now do you know?

          DOCTOR
          She has no wounds.
          A uniformed policeman sits on a chair outside one of the
          rooms at the end of the corridor, reading a newspaper. He
          rises as they approach. Teresa hands the printout back to
          the doctor; she keeps the passport.

          TERESA
          That's it? That's all you have?

          DOCTOR
          I'm afraid so.
          Be nods to the policeman, and leads Teresa into:

          INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - NIGHT

          A bed, a night stand, a curtained window. Amy lies with a
          sheet pulled to her chin, unconscious, an IV dripping into
          her arm. They've cleaned the blood off her.
          A NURSE sits in a chair beside the bed. She's in her early
          twenties, with long dark hair tied in a bun. She stands up,
          stepping back from the bed, as the doctor and Teresa enter.
          The doctor addresses her in SUBTITLED SPANISH:

          DOCTOR
          Has she stirred?
          The nurse shakes her head. The doctor moves to the bed. He
          takes Amy's wrist, feeling for her-pulse. Amy's eyes open at
          his touch. She stares at him, her arm hanging limply in his
          grasp. He smiles down at her.

          DOCTOR (cont'd)
          There you are...
          Teresa steps forward, and Amy's gaze shifts to her.

          DOCTOR (cont'd)
          My name is Dr. Hernandez...

          Amy's eyes return to the doctor;. they fall on his face, then
          drift down to his chest. The doctor gestures toward Teresa:

          

          

          136.

          DOCTOR (cont'd)
          And this is Ms. Bern, from the U.S.
          Consulate.
          Amy is staring at his white coat, her expression going slack,
          almost catatonic, all the life draining from it.

          DOCTOR (cont'd)
          we were hoping you might be able to
          shed a little light on what you've
          been through...

          Amy is silent, still staring with that dead look in her eyes
          at the doctor's coat: a faint green web of vine has taken
          root there, spreading across the white fabric. WE HOLD on it
          for a beat, and then:



          THE END