Friday, January 23, 2009
DOGRIDERS PART 2: BAYVILLE
THE STORY SO FAR: Somehow, completely unbeknownst to the scientific community, the Dogriders launched an Assault on the World of Man. Their purposes unknown but violently demonstrated, the Dogriders were once average house-pets spanning the globe in untold billions. Whatever consciousness existed within the animals, it chose to unleash itself in a terrifying unison as each and every breed & pedigree of dog on the planet simultaneously sprouted a nub on its back resembling a mottled troll of yore with a wicked countenance to match. Strategic masterminds on the urban battlefield, the Dogriders formed large hunting parties, systematically extinguishing any trace of human life their keen senses could detect. As the Assault wages on and fewer living souls remain, we join survivors JOSH and NICK, waging a desperate struggle to remain hidden in the sewer systems of Long Island, New York.
SEWAGE SYSTEM: Josh and Nick trudge through thick rivers of slop.
NICK: If this goes East, we could make it all the to Bayville.
JOSH: No, we're getting out of here as soon as we can. That smell... awful.
NICK: What, and meet up with those Dogriders again? I don't think so.
JOSH: I'm gonna throw up again.
NICK: Breathe through your mouth.
The ROAR OF DOGRIDERS echoes through the tunnels.
JOSH: Where's it coming from?
The ROAR OF DOGRIDERS swells.
NICK: Sounds like they're up top.
JOSH: Did they find us?
NICK: Not likely. I don't think they can smell us through all this ass-puke.
Josh vomits into the shit river.
NICK: Sounds like some kind of a rally. Could be hundreds of 'em up there.
JOSH: Let's not stick around and find out.
CONCRETE TUNNEL: Still covered in shit, the two take cautious steps down a massive underground pass.
JOSH: Shouldn't we get off the island?
NICK: You got a plan, I'm all ears.
JOSH: Well the mainland's back thataways right?
NICK: Oh, the City, brilliant idea. Let's go where even more Dogs are at.
JOSH: We go east we're just gonna run into the ocean right?
NICK: I'm counting on it.
JOSH: What, and take a boat?
NICK: Or a plane, or the L.I.R.R., or fucking ANYTHING, WE CAN FINDALRIGHT?? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT TO HEAR? Th-THERE'S A ROYAL CARIBBEAN OCEAN LINER WAITIN' FOR US IN MONTAUK IS THAT WHAT YOU FUCKIN' WANNA HEAR?
Josh is sullen, keeping his head low as they walk. The wind reverberates in low registers through the subterranean hall.
NICK: Alright, I'm sorry Josh. I just... I got nothing.
JOSH: It's OK.
NICK: All I know is if we keep moving maybe, maybe we'll get out of this.
They follow the corridor, led by the growing gloomy note of the wind.
SEASIDE DRAINAGE OUTLET: A chickenwire mesh screens the steady flow of sludge arcing out over a sandy inlet. There's a wavering in the stream as bare hands grasp the mesh, tearing it asunder. Nick emerges first, dropping to the murky puddle fed by the outlet. Josh pokes a cautious head out and joins him on the sandbar. The ocean makes itself known with a subdued dashing of froth to the shoreline.
BAYVILLE BEACH, DUSK: Josh and Nick walk along the deserted shore, keeping an eye on the upcoming township.
JOSH: I don't see any boats.
NICK: I think there's a harbor coming up around this bend.
JOSH: You said that the last bend.
NICK: It's Bayville, there's gotta be... bays.
The staccato of summer rain pelts the surrounding beach.
NICK: How bout that. At least it's washing the shit off.
JOSH: Smells like rain.
NICK: I love that smell.
A faint bark nips the air, barely audible.
JOSH: This is good, we're not seeing any of them, right?
NICK: We haven't seen anything since we got out here, Human or Dogrider.
The rain is picking up, and already a a gray cloud brews overhead.
JOSH: Maybe they all left.
NICK: And went where? I don't get it. And why would they go after us in the first place? We didn't do anything to them. I loved my dog! And where's the armies? Where's the guys who're supposed to be saving our asses?
Nick trips, falling hard into the sand.
JOSH: You OK?
NICK: I'll live.
JOSH: Look what you hit.
Both pairs of eyes come to rest on a SHOVEL, partially emerging from the dunes.
He picks it up, examining the blade as rain streaks patterns on the metal.
NICK: Could be a good weapon, right?
All the color has dropped from Josh's face, his mouth slightly agape.
NICK: Well, I think it could be.
Josh's head is shaking ever so slightly, as if in stunted disbelief.
NICK: Hey, quit it.
Nick turns the shovel blade so that it reflects to him what Josh is actually staring at: a dark shape approaching behind them. Nick turns to see the hundred or so feet between him and TWO EXTRA-LARGE EXTRA-VICIOUS DOGRIDERS. The Dogriders approach slowly in full-on hunt mode. There's a dark shaggy one and a pure white wolf-like one, the pair forming some kind of nightmarish yin-yang amidst the growing storm. Nick raises his shovel in a ready position.
NICK: Josh, I want you to run, run to the ocean and do not look back, got it?
NICK: You're gonna swim out as far as you can as quickly as possible, understand? And do not, look, back.
JOSH: Nick, what are you doing?
NICK: Josh, I'm sorry to raise my voice again buT RUNNNNN! GO! GET OUT OF HERE, RUN!
DOGRIDERS: BROUF! BROUF! BROUF! BROUF! BROUF! BROUF!
NICK: GO,WHAT ARE YOU DOING, GO!
Josh tumbles backwards but snaps into a sprint as the Dogriders begin to rush them.
DOGRIDERS: BROUF! BROUF! BROUF!
Nick swipes at the black Dogrider, slamming it aside with an astounding impact. The white Dogrider leaps past, keying in on Josh as his feet slap against the shoreline.
DOGRIDERS: BROUF! BROUF! BROUF! BROUF!
Nick raises his shovel high overhead, bringing it down hard on the felled Dogrider. For the first time ever, the horrific brown nub protruding from the Dogrider's back opens its infantile maw.
It's a horrific noise, the sound of bitter troll suffering amplified to an unnatural resonance. The sound stops the white Dogrider dead in it's tracks; it's a distress call of the highest order! The beast is momentarily stalled: does it go for Josh or return to help its downed huntingmate?
The white Dogrider doubles back with renewed anger.
DOGRIDERS: BROUF! BROUF!
Josh thrashes about in the choppy surf, bobbing among waves as the riptide pulls him farther out.
JOSH: NICK! NICK!!!
He swallows seawater as a wave slams into his face. Between the whitecaps and sheets of cold rain, he sees the white Dogrider lunge at Nick, knocking him to the ground.
He tries to swim back but the current is growing under the storm's power. His vision obscured in the brine, he catches one last glimpse of the white Dogrider and the recovered black Dogrider swarming their prey, now a mere red blob on the receding coast. Thunder erupts overhead as waves begin to blot out the shoreline. It's a struggle to merely keep afloat.
JOSH: NICK! NICK!!! NIIIIIIIIH-HIH-HIIIIIICK!!!
(end part 2)