e6d47a92b3685cd9e04fcfe5383672de78cd124a
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http://www.imsdb.com/scripts/Jaws-2.html
JAWS 2 Final
. THE END
 Prior to a new hotel opening on Amity Island, an enormous great white shark ambushes and kills two divers who are photographing the wreck of the Orca, the late Quint's boat. A couple of days later, their camera is recovered, and the shark goes after a female water skier and speedboat driver, devouring the skier while the driver fends off the shark using a gas tank and flare gun, causing the boat to explode, which kills her and severely burns the shark's face.
Along with these disappearances, a killer whale bearing large wounds is beached. Police Chief Martin Brody believes these events are the work of a shark. Brody explains his concerns to Mayor Larry Vaughn, who doubts the town has another shark problem. Later, Brody finds debris from the destroyed speedboat in the surf just off the beach. He wades over to retrieve it and uncovers the boat driver's burnt remains.
The following day, at the beach, Brody sees a dark shadow that approaches the swimmers. Thinking it is a shark, he frantically orders everyone out of the water and causes a panic by firing his gun. However, the shadow is revealed to be a school of bluefish, making people think Brody's insane. His fears are later confirmed when he acquires a close-up picture of the shark from the diver's camera. The Amity town council, including local developer Len Peterson, deny the evidence and vote Brody out as Police Chief.
The next morning, Brody's teenage son Mike disobeys his father by sneaking out to go sailing with his friends after his love interest Jackie Peters goads him to, but his younger brother Sean catches him and encourages Mike to bring him along. After an argument at the dock, Marge, one of Mike's friends, playfully lets Sean come in her boat with her, and after a couple other grouping arrangements, they head out, going past a team of divers, led by instructor Tom Andrews. Moments after going underwater, one of the divers encounters the shark. Panicking, he rushes to the surface, causing an embolism. Soon after, the shark hits teenagers Tina Wilcox and Eddie Marchand; Eddie falls in the water and is killed by the shark.
Brody and his wife Ellen follow an ambulance to the docks, where they find Tom as he is put on a stretcher; the divers suspect something scared him underwater. Deputy Len Hendricks, Brody's replacement, tells them Mike went sailing with his friends, so Brody, along with Ellen and Hendricks, takes the police boat to rescue them. While searching, they come across Tina's boat, and find her hiding in the bow; she fearfully mentions the shark's presence. Hendricks and Ellen take Tina to shore, where the truth is revealed, while Brody goes on to find the kids.
Meanwhile, the shark attacks the other kids, hitting one of their boats and causing most of them to capsize and crash into each other in the ensuing panic, throwing several of them, including Mike and Sean, in the water. The other teens help them out of the water while two of them pull Mike out as the shark goes for him and head back to get help. Sean and the others remain adrift on the wreckage of tangled boats. A Coast Guard marine helicopter that Brody contacted arrives to tow them to shore. Before the pilot can tow them, the shark attacks and sinks the chopper with the pilot at the controls. It then knocks Sean into the water, but Marge sacrifices herself to save him.
Brody runs into Mike, who tells his father that Sean is with his friends, drifting towards Cable Junction, a small island housing an electrical relay station, and apologizes for not knowing about the shark. Brody accepts his apology while telling him to get to safety and quickly finds them, but when the shark reappears, he panics and maroons the police boat on Cable Junction. He then tries to pull them with a winch but hooks an underwater power cable. The shark's next attack sends most of the teenagers into the water, and they swim to Cable Junction while Sean and Jackie are trapped on the boats. Using an inflatable raft, Brody hits the power cable with an oar to attract the shark and encourages it to bite the cable; the shark is fatally electrocuted, and its corpse sinks to the bottom of the sea. The shaken kids rejoice as Brody picks up Sean and Jackie and they join them on Cable Junction to await rescue.
Prior to a new hotel opening on Amity Island , an enormous great white shark ambushes and kills two divers who are photographing the wreck of the Orca , the late Quint s boat . A couple of days later , their camera is recovered , and the shark goes after a female water skier and speedboat driver , devouring the skier while the driver fends off the shark using a gas tank and flare gun , causing the boat to explode , which kills her and severely burns the shark s face . Along with these disappearances , a killer whale bearing large wounds is beached . Police Chief Martin Brody believes these events are the work of a shark . Brody explains his concerns to Mayor Larry Vaughn , who doubts the town has another shark problem . Later , Brody finds debris from the destroyed speedboat in the surf just off the beach . He wades over to retrieve it and uncovers the boat driver s burnt remains . The following day , at the beach , Brody sees a dark shadow that approaches the swimmers . Thinking it is a shark , he frantically orders everyone out of the water and causes a panic by firing his gun . However , the shadow is revealed to be a school of bluefish , making people think Brody s insane . His fears are later confirmed when he acquires a close-up picture of the shark from the diver s camera . The Amity town council , including local developer Len Peterson , deny the evidence and vote Brody out as Police Chief . The next morning , Brody s teenage son Mike disobeys his father by sneaking out to go sailing with his friends after his love interest Jackie Peters goads him to , but his younger brother Sean catches him and encourages Mike to bring him along . After an argument at the dock , Marge , one of Mike s friends , playfully lets Sean come in her boat with her , and after a couple other grouping arrangements , they head out , going past a team of divers , led by instructor Tom Andrews . Moments after going underwater , one of the divers encounters the shark . Panicking , he rushes to the surface , causing an embolism . Soon after , the shark hits teenagers Tina Wilcox and Eddie Marchand ; Eddie falls in the water and is killed by the shark . Brody and his wife Ellen follow an ambulance to the docks , where they find Tom as he is put on a stretcher ; the divers suspect something scared him underwater . Deputy Len Hendricks , Brody s replacement , tells them Mike went sailing with his friends , so Brody , along with Ellen and Hendricks , takes the police boat to rescue them . While searching , they come across Tina s boat , and find her hiding in the bow ; she fearfully mentions the shark s presence . Hendricks and Ellen take Tina to shore , where the truth is revealed , while Brody goes on to find the kids . Meanwhile , the shark attacks the other kids , hitting one of their boats and causing most of them to capsize and crash into each other in the ensuing panic , throwing several of them , including Mike and Sean , in the water . The other teens help them out of the water while two of them pull Mike out as the shark goes for him and head back to get help . Sean and the others remain adrift on the wreckage of tangled boats . A Coast Guard marine helicopter that Brody contacted arrives to tow them to shore . Before the pilot can tow them , the shark attacks and sinks the chopper with the pilot at the controls . It then knocks Sean into the water , but Marge sacrifices herself to save him . Brody runs into Mike , who tells his father that Sean is with his friends , drifting towards Cable Junction , a small island housing an electrical relay station , and apologizes for not knowing about the shark . Brody accepts his apology while telling him to get to safety and quickly finds them , but when the shark reappears , he panics and maroons the police boat on Cable Junction . He then tries to pull them with a winch but hooks an underwater power cable . The shark s next attack sends most of the teenagers into the water , and they swim to Cable Junction while Sean and Jackie are trapped on the boats . Using an inflatable raft , Brody hits the power cable with an oar to attract the shark and encourages it to bite the cable ; the shark is fatally electrocuted , and its corpse sinks to the bottom of the sea . The shaken kids rejoice as Brody picks up Sean and Jackie and they join them on Cable Junction to await rescue .
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jaws_2
Jaws 2
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<pre>                                         "JAWS 2"

                                  Final Draft Screenplay

                                            by

                                      Carl Gottlieb

                                     Based on a Story

                                            by

                                      Howard Sackler

<b>                
</b>
<b>               FADE IN:
</b>
<b>               UNDERWATER - DAY
</b>
               Dramatically lit by sunlight filtering down from the surface.

               A dim shape, massive, threatening, swims towards us from the 
               distance. Then it divides -- what was one is two, and the 
               shape becomes reality; two divers in Scuba gear swimming 
               side by side. They are wearing minimal rubber, considering 
               the cool New England waters: "Farmer John" wetsuits with cut-
               off legs, assorted sport-diving paraphernalia, including an 
               expensive camera with a flash attachment.

               One motions "Down there," the other signals "OK, I see it," 
               and they dive deeper, into darker waters, where the shafts 
               of sunlight pour into the depths, broken up by seaweed and 
               floating vegetation into cathedral-like columns of 
               illumination.

<b>               SEA BOTTOM - DAY
</b>
               The wreck of the working fisherman's boat "ORCA," formerly 
               under the command of the late Captain Quint, deceased these 
               four years.

               Buried in the sand near it, still connected by rusting strands 
               of cable, the mangled remains of a shark cage, glimmering 
               with stainless steel highlights. A fitful flash of yellow 
               from under a mossy beard -- a battered barrel, similarly 
               tangled.

               The divers, Bert and Ernie, appear. They're fascinated by 
               the find, and Bert, with the camera, snaps a few flash shots. 
               The rapid sequence of flashes signals the presence of a motor 
               drive camera.

<b>               ANOTHER POINT OF VIEW
</b>
               Distant flashes, obscured by vegetation in the foreground.

<b>               SEA BOTTOM, THE ORCA
</b>
               Ernie is exploring the abandoned cabin; doors open and shut, 
               moved by invisible currents stirred by his passage.

               An occasional "Flash!" lights up the bottom as Bert continues 
               snapping away souvenir shots of this local landmark.

<b>               BERT'S POINT OF VIEW - CAMERA VIEWFINDER (PROCESS)
</b>
               Ernie floats up out of a hatch, sees the camera, and strikes 
               a pose, clowning for the photographer's benefit. A big hand, 
               f.g., motions him up into clear water for a formal portrait.

               He obliges. Now he floats in front of us, gently paddling 
               his flippers to maintain vertical stability. One flash.

               Another. Then a large, dim movement in the b.g.

               Something's out there, moving towards us.

               Flash. It's bigger, bearing down like a train in a tunnel.

               Flash! It's on us. Flash! Teeth? Blood? Flash! Blackness, 
               Death.

<b>               OCEAN BOTTOM, INSERT
</b>
               The camera floats gently down and settles in the sand. A 
               dark red mist eddies by. A last weak flash.

<b>                                                         MATCH DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. OCEAN - SUNDOWN
</b>
               Flash! An expensive cabin cruiser, the "Diver Working" flag 
               fluttering limply in the breeze, is riding alone at anchor.

               Flash! A distant lighthouse beacon winks at us. The boat 
               rocks in the ceaseless swell.

               On the stern, "Elizabeth T. - Newport, R.I." A long way from 
               home...

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. AMITY BEACH - DAY
</b>
               A blue-and-white police jeep is bouncing over the sand. A 
               figure in civilian clothes driving alone on some urgent 
               mission. It's Martin Brody, Chief of Police on Amity.

               The jeep slows to a stop, and he takes a flight of stairs 
               leading to a concrete patio two at a time. A classical trumpet 
               solo is playing in the background. Brody charges through a 
               door, then abruptly slows and starts moving warily through a 
               hotel interior: The Holidome, a three-story extravaganza of 
               a motel, where some sort of formal ceremony is already in 
               progress. A banner announces: "Grand Opening Ball -- Amity 
               Scholarship Fund Benefit." Brody crosses under a High School 
               band, arranged dance-band style on a balcony; the trumpet 
               player, Polo, is finishing his solo, the assembled crowd 
               applauds politely. Brody is taking his place with some 
               dignitaries on the dais, as the presiding authority, Amity 
               Mayor Larry Vaughn, begins speaking.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Thank you, Paul Lohman, for that 
                         eloquent solo. Now, for that point 
                         in the ceremonies where we formally 
                         dedicate this magnificent resort-
                         hotel complex, a worthwhile addition 
                         to the recreational paradise we call 
                         Amity.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE DAIS
</b>
               Seated on folding chairs, wearing their good suits, several 
               of Amity's Selectmen, Real Estate Developer Len Peterson, 
               and Ellen Brody, very chic. Brody slips into the vacant chair 
               next to her. The following is conducted in urgent whispers, 
               sotto voce, while Vaughn drones on.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Where the hell were you?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Late.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         I can see that. Don't you know this 
                         is a big deal?

<b>                         BRODY
</b>                 Couldn't help it. 
                 Hendricks over there...
                    (he indicates his 
                    deputy)
                 ...still has the keys 
                 to the jeep in his 
                 pocket, and I couldn't 
                 find the spares.

<b>                         ELLEN
</b>                 Terrific. Act as if 
                 you've been here all 
                 along.

<b>                         BRODY
</b>                 How'm I supposed to do 
                 that?

<b>                         ELLEN
</b>                 Look bored. 

<b>                                                       VAUGHN
</b>                                                  (droning along)
                                               Holiday Inn joins the Amity 
                                               Shores development 
                                               condominium complex in a 
                                               welcome expression renewed 
                                               interest in Amity Island 
                                               as the hub of the Northeast 
                                               Recreational Vacation 
                                               Wonderland. We're happy 
                                               once again to be in the 
                                               center of things, where 
                                               the action is... We've had 
                                               our share of hard times 
                                               and long winters and the 
                                               past few years have not 
                                               been easy. But today, the 
                                               sun is rising on a new 
                                               Amity, a new island filled 
                                               with promise.
                                                  (applause)
                                               Len Peterson's Amity Shores 
                                               Development is an exciting 
                                               addition to our island. 
                                               The Holiday Inn we stand 
                                               in is likewise a new friend 
                                               who we welcome as family. 
                                               Amity means 'friendship' 
                                               and our community extends 
                                               its friendship to all who 
                                               seek her shores in peace 
                                               and harmony.
                                                  (applause)

               Brody settles into polite attentiveness, acknowledging a 
               wave from Hendricks, a politely bland young town cop in his 
               idea of civilian finery. Hendricks is fussing with the banner 
               on an attractive young lady in a bathing suit...

<b>               ANGLE ON VAUGHN
</b>
<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         ...And now, Tina Wilcox, this year's 
                         Miss Amity, will cut the ribbon that 
                         officially opens this luxurious new 
                         hotel...

               Tina (the girl in the bathing suit) escapes Hendricks' 
               attentions, and teeters on high heels towards the ribbon, 
               while Phil Fogarty, the local photographer, snaps away.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Tina was selected from more than 20 
                         of this island's lovely young
                         ladies in the Miss Amity competition 
                         held every spring, and she'll 
                         represent Amity Island in the Miss 
                         Massachusetts Competition in Worcester 
                         next month. When she cuts this ribbon, 
                         she will be opening our island to 
                         growth, to development, to planned 
                         expansion with full employment for 
                         our thriving community.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE BAND
</b>
               Paul Lohman ("Polo" to his friends) is exchanging whispers 
               with Lucy, a flute player nearby.

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         I don't think she's such hot stuff.

<b>                                     POLO
</b>                         When are we going out? You and me?

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         Not tonight.

<b>                                     POLO
</b>                         You going with Patrick?

               Lucy nods, Polo shrugs, and turns to Jane, a girl nearby.

<b>                                     POLO
</b>                         Listen, Jane -- you want to dance as 
                         soon as we get out of these monkey 
                         suits?

               She nods happily, they whisper together, while we:

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               ANGLE ON DAIS
</b>
               Martin and Ellen have been joined by their youngest son, 
               Sean.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Mom, Michael won't talk to me.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (to Ellen)
                         Shouldn't he be at home?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Mrs. Silvera couldn't come.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         This money tree, you may have noticed, 
                         is made entirely of twenty-dollar 
                         bills, donated by Len Peterson, the 
                         builder of Amity Shores Condominiums, 
                         as a gesture of goodwill towards the 
                         community. $500 as a special gift to 
                         the Amity township scholarship fund...

               Applause from the crowd, Len takes a bow.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                              (prompting)
                         Go ahead, Tina.

<b>               ANGLE ON TINA
</b>
               as she reaches out with the scissors. Something catches her 
               eye, and she winks at her boyfriend, Ed Marchand, smirking 
               in the crowd. He winks back, and makes "Cut it" motions with 
               his fingers.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE CEREMONY
</b>
               Tina cuts the ribbon, and Tom Andrews, a local diver, pushes 
               a decorated float out into the pool; sparklers sputter, 
               balloons drop from the ceiling.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Thanks to Tom Andrews, of Amity Aqua-
                         Sports, for contributing the special 
                         decorations. And now, the Amity High 
                         School band. Refreshments on the 
                         patio, everyone...

               The band swings into "Downtown," and the crowd gets up to 
               dance, to eat, and to break into small groups to talk.

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. HOLIDOME - LATER
</b>
               Ellen is dragging Brody over to where Len Peterson and Larry 
               Vaughn, the mayor, are in conversation. They pass vignettes:

               Tina and Ed, Tom Andrews and Jane, Marge, other interesting 
               Amity townspeople.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (seeing Peterson and 
                              Vaughn)
                         Do I have to talk to those two?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         My boss and your boss. Sure.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Hello, hello. It went well, I thought.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Very impressive ceremony. Good speech.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Thank you, thank you. You know my 
                         son, don't you?

               He beckons over their heads to Larry Vaughn, Jr., a young 
               man uncomfortable in his correct tie and blazer. They exchange 
               perfunctory greetings.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         The speech was right on the money.
                              (to Ellen)
                         Be a love and make sure the bar's 
                         open, will you?

               He puts his arm around her, a little too familiarly for 
               Brody's liking.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                              (to Brody)
                         Fantastic lady. Don't know what I'd 
                         do without her.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Me neither.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                              (looking around)
                         Y'know, Brody -- for the first time 
                         in years it's worth putting money 
                         into this town.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         All of us thank you, okay?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Watch Sean for a minute?

               And she hands Sean off to Brody, leaving him with an over-
               active 10 year old, while she's gone.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Can I go swimming?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         No. Find your brother, okay?

               Sean nods and runs off, happy to have a mission.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               ANGLE ON MICHAEL BRODY - NEAR THE BAND
</b>
               He is talking to Brooke Peters, a mop-maned teen-ager with a 
               pleasant face.

               Timmy Weldon, a grade behind, lurks nearby. A plumpish, curly-
               haired buddy, Andy Nicholas, is enjoying a cup of punch.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         How old is your cousin?

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Seventeen. She's a senior.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I'm not crazy about blind dates.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         They're okay, if they got little 
                         white canes and tin cups.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         That's awful.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         What the hell.
                              (to Mike)
                         Did your mom put all this together?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Yeah, it's her job.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Is she responsible for the punch?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         No.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Good. It's terrible.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         My cousin will be here tomorrow.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Great.

               Sean finds them, and bursts into their group.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Michael, Michael, Dad said to find 
                         you.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Okay, you did that.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Come on, Mikey, come on...

               He tugs at Mike's sleeve; Mike allows himself to be dragged 
               off.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Okay, okay. Got to go.

               Andy and Brooke are left standing together, Tim moves in.

<b>                                     TIM
</b>                              (to Brooke)
                         Want to dance?
                              (she shakes her head 
                              "no")
                         Okay. Later?

               On her shrug, as she turns to Andy:

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT./EXT. HOLIDOME PATIO/TERRACE - NIGHT
</b>
               It's later; night has fallen, the band is playing its version 
               of "When I Fall in Love." Many teen-agers are dancing out on 
               the patio, some adults are dancing inside, the buffet is 
               ravaged, Timmy is watching Brooke, who's dancing with Polo.

               Douglas Fetterman ("Doug") joins him, after asking Marge for 
               a dance and striking out.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Get a dance yet?

<b>                                     TIMMY
</b>                         Nope.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Me neither.

<b>                                     TIMMY
</b>                         Who'd you ask?

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Tina Wilcox.

<b>                                     TIMMY
</b>                         You're crazy. She's Ed's girl friend.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Doesn't hurt to ask. Sometimes the 
                         most beautiful girls are the 
                         loneliest.

<b>                                     TIMMY
</b>                         That's a crock of shit.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         I know.

               Bob Burnside, a tall pal of Larry Vaughn Jr.'s, turns up by 
               their side.

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         Same tired old faces. You see Vaughn?

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         The mayor?

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         Larry Vaughn Junior?
                              (Doug shrugs)
                         If you see him, tell him I got a six-
                         pack, a blanket, and the Brebner 
                         twins.

               He exits, on the prowl.

<b>                                     TIMMY
</b>                         No class.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         None at all.
                              (pause)
                         I wonder what the Brebner twins are 
                         doing tomorrow night.

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY AND ELLEN
</b>
<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Can you take a little time out from 
                         your busy schedule to dance with the 
                         old man?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Why?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Because they're playing our song.

               And sure enough, they are -- the band has turned to a Fifties 
               slow-dance standard: "I Wish You Love." Peterson approaches.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         May I have this dance?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Sorry, I'm all booked up...
                              (taking Ellen)
                         Come, m'dear.

               They slowly fox trot out onto the terrace. Both of them 
               nodding greetings to townspeople and kids -- everyone knows 
               the chief.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Remember 1959, the Jersey shore?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         And how. I thought you wouldn't 
                         respect me.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I did, I did.

               The music and the summer moon are working their magic.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Listen -- what are you doing later?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Fooling around?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Right.

               He dips with her; they look up and notice Sean, sound asleep 
               on a bench.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Let's get the kid home.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Home it is.

               He crosses to the sleepy Sean and hoists him with a grunt.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (to the kid)
                         You're getting a little big for this.

               Sean murmurs sleepily and hugs his dad. Mike, dancing with 
               Marge, waves good-bye. The Brodys start to leave, passing a 
               bucket with a bottle of champagne still in it. They exchange 
               a look, nod agreement, and Brody boosts the bottle, sneaking 
               it out of the building while Ellen giggles.

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. BRODY BEDROOM - DAY
</b>
               Brody and Ellen are snuggling under the covers while early 
               morning light streams under the blinds. It's The Morning 
               After, and the clothes from the night before are scattered 
               all over the room. Brody rolls against Ellen, spoon-fashion, 
               morning-horny.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Mmmm.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         MMMmmmorning...

               They start to move a little, then turn face to face. Outside 
               their door, the sounds of little feet; Sean padding 
               downstairs.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Sean's awake.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Door's locked.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (kissing)
                         Good.

               Their bodies move under the blankets. There's a crash from 
               the kitchen. They stop for a beat. As they resume, little 
               feet return.

<b>                                     SEAN'S VOICE
</b>                         The milk fell out of the 'frigerator.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                              (whispering)
                         Put a towel down. And shh -- daddy's 
                         sleeping.

<b>                                     SEAN'S VOICE
</b>                         Okay.

               His feet paddle off. Brody and Ellen start to slide together, 
               passion resumes.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         C'mere...

               Bigger feet go downstairs; Michael's up. The Brodys kiss, 
               trying to ignore the sounds of spirited discussion between 
               brothers over who's responsible for spilled milk. Then the 
               sound of a car pulling into the driveway, and a horn beep.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Mrs. Silvera?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Mrs. Silvera.

               They try to kiss again, there's a door slam downstairs, and 
               talk between the boys and Mrs. Silvera. The Brodys look at 
               each other and break up laughing at the morning, and 
               themselves.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE BED
</b>
               As Ellen and Brody, with the practice of 18 years of marriage, 
               swing back-to-back, and put their feet on the floor, each on 
               their side of the bed, still chuckling, up for the day.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Need a ride?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         As far as the office.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. AMITY STREET   DAY
</b>
               The police jeep is driving through the picturesque streets, 
               Brody behind the wheel, Ellen and Sean passengers. It slows 
               near the foot of the street, dockside, where a real estate 
               office marked "Amity Shores Development, Leonard Peterson, 
               Pres." sits. Peterson's big Cadillac is parked illegally at 
               the curb. It has the Amity Shores logo on its side.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Some people.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         What's daddy doing?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Writing a ticket.

               Brody is out of the car, his pad in his hand.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Hey! That's my boss!

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Better yet.

               Peterson, in shirt-sleeves and a tie, hustles out of the 
               office

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         Wait a minute...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Too late, it's written.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         Heck of a way to treat a taxpayer.
                              (to Ellen)
                         Don't you have any pull with the 
                         chief, here?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Do I have to?

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                              (taking the ticket)
                         Better get a sales kit together for 
                         after lunch. I'm taking some prospects 
                         out.

               Ellen kisses Brody, and starts in for her day's work.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         See you later.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                              (to Brody)
                         Can't we fix it up to get this made 
                         into a green zone or something?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Len, pay the two dollars.

               Peterson shrugs and goes inside his office. Brody's attention 
               is drawn by some noise by the dock.

<b>               EXT. DOCKSIDE, AMITY - DAY
</b>
               Hendricks and an old codger, Red, are working on Amity's 
               newest bit of police equipment; a blue power launch for 
               patrolling local waters. The boat is Hendricks' personal 
               pride and joy.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                              (to Red)
                         Tie it off on your left. Your other 
                         left!

               As Red complies, Hendricks spots his boss.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Good morning!

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (walking onto the 
                              dock, Sean tagging 
                              along)
                         Aren't you off-duty?

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Till noon. This is on my own time.
                              (to Sean)
                         Hi, Shorty.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         I'm not short. I'm eleven.

               There's a hoot from a passing boat horn. Sean waves happily.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE BOAT
</b>
               It has slowed to a halt in front of the police berth; it's a 
               scruffy working fisherman, back from the banks with a full 
               load. The Skipper hails Brody.

<b>                                     SKIPPER
</b>                         Yo! Chief!

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         What?

<b>                                     SKIPPER
</b>                         You got a gold-plater drifting in 
                         the main channel. Big cruiser.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Whereabouts?

<b>                                     SKIPPER
</b>                         Off the Point. No running lights, 
                         just a diver's flag.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                              (aside to Brody)
                         Want me to run out there?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         On your own time?

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Happy to do it.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Then check it out. I'll be in the 
                         office.

               Hendricks nods, and starts the engine importantly.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Cast off your bow line. And your 
                         stern line. Spring line...

               While Red grumbles, Brody and Sean are walking up to the 
               street.

               Michael and some teen-agers are headed down to the dock.

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY AND THE KIDS
</b>
               It's Mike, Polo, Patrick, Lucy, Brooke, Ed and Tina.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Where to?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         No place special. Just hanging out.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Sailing?

               Mike nods.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Watch your kid brother, huh?

               He gets into his jeep, leaving Sean with the teen-agers.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Bye, Mr. Brody.

               The others ad lib appropriate greetings/good-byes, as Brody 
               drives off in his jeep.

<b>               EXT. DOCKSIDE - DAY
</b>
               The Kids busy themselves with their boats while Sean hovers 
               around Mike, who's not happy at baby-sitting his kid brother.

<b>                         POLO
</b>                 Anyone want to sail to 
                 the lighthouse?

<b>                         PATRICK
</b>                 Machs nix to me.

<b>                         LUCY
</b>                 Anyone got a spare 
                 mooring line? Mine's 
                 shot.

<b>                         TINA
</b>                 I've got one...

<b>                                                       SEAN
</b>                                               Can I go too?

<b>                                                       MIKE
</b>                                               No.

<b>                                                       SEAN
</b>                                               Please.

<b>                                                       MIKE
</b>                                               I said, 'No.'

               Tina's in her boat, "Tina's Joy," a neat sloop. Mike is going 
               over his "Green Machine," a sleek catamaran.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         You're not going out right away, are 
                         you?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Waiting for Andy.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         I want you to meet my cousin.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I will, I will.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         I want to go out with you. You need 
                         a crew, don't you?

               Before Sean can protest further, Mike spots his crew: Andy 
               Nicholas, a round-faced, frizzy-haired pal, wearing a bathing 
               suit, and carrying some scuba gear from an early-morning 
               diving class. Marge and Denise, two other divers, are with 
               him, with their gear. They ad-lib "good-byes."

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I don't need you. Andy's here.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         You always go with Andy.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                              (to Andy)
                         How was dive class?

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Same as always -- glub-glub, bubble-
                         bubble, stroke-stroke. There sure is 
                         some weird shit on the bottom of the 
                         ocean.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Shells and lobsters and stuff?

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Mostly old garbage. Today we found a 
                         '48 Hudson.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Do I have to play with the little 
                         kids?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Yeah. Go on, beat it.

               Sean mopes away while Andy and Mike get their boat ready for 
               sea.

<b>               FOLLOW SEAN OFF THE DOCK
</b>
               Up on the street, where a pretty girl with a sexy face and a 
               provocative post-pubescent walk is asking him directions.

               He points down at the dock. The Girl, Jackie Peters, waves 
               at her cousin, Brooke.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Brooke! Hey!

               One of the boats has a portable radio going. It's playing 
               some medium-hot salsa. Jackie does a couple of dance steps 
               on her way down the dock.

<b>               CLOSE ON ANDY AND MIKE
</b>
<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Who's that? Quick -- I'm in love.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I hope that's the cousin.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Over here. I want you to meet 
                         somebody.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Lucky. Lucky, lucky, lucky.

               As the four teen-agers come together in a tight quartet, the 
               music rocks up and we:

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. HARBOR - DAY
</b>
               Later in the day, sailboats with bright colored sails and 
               ornately painted hulls tack back and forth. Lots of chatter 
               between boats, horseplay, splashing, and general good times.

               It's cruising, on water.

<b>               EXT. HARBOR, ABOARD MIKE'S BOAT - DAY
</b>
               with Mike, Andy, Jackie and Brooke.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         How fast does this go?

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         With the right wind, 15-20 knots.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         What?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Real fast.

               He sheets in, heeling the boat over in the stiff breeze.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Far out!

               Jackie screams in excitement; for a city girl, this is more 
               fun than a roller coaster.

<b>               ANGLE ON A RED CATAMARAN, "SIZZLER"
</b>
               overtaking Mike's boat. It's piloted by Larry Vaughn, Jr., 
               the Mayor's Son; with him is his good friend, Bob Burnside.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Coming up!

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         Gangway, Turkies!

               It's immediately a race between the red boat -- "Sizzler," 
               and Mike's "Green Machine." The Kids ad-lib -- "Faster," 
               "Lookout," "Gybe, gybe."

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         We're carrying weight.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         We'll take your supercargo.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Is that me?

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         That's you.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         I've never been supercargo.

               Donny and Denise's boat cuts in, stealing the Sizzler's air.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Hey, get out of our air!

<b>                                     DONNY
</b>                         Want a passenger?

<b>               ANGLE ON THE SIZZLER AND FELIX
</b>
               Denise hops nimbly from one boat to the other as Danny sails 
               tight as a tick to the red cat.

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         Way to go!

<b>               QUICK CUTS: FUN AT SEA
</b>
               The sailboats cutting up, cruising the harbor, the local 
               teen-agers partying with each other:

               --  Patrick and Lucy's Sol Cat, flying its hull.

               --  Susie's Laser heeled 'way over' in a stiff breeze.

               --  Polo and a pretty girl in his sloop, "Sea Witch."

               --  Timmy Weldon and Doug Fetterman playing catch-up in their 
               respective boats, the Doughdish and the Inflatable.

               --  Marge in her Lightening, sailing close to Ed and Tina in 
               Tina's Joy.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               UNDERWATER NEAR THE ORCA - DAY
</b>
               Silent, green-blue depths. A diver, Crosby, working the 
               bottom, running a search pattern. Another diver, Tom Andrews, 
               running close. They signal to each other, and make another 
               pass.

               Follow Tom Andrews as he skims the bottom, near the wreck of 
               the Orca, half-buried in the silt. A diver's line runs up 
               and

<b>                                                      OUT OF THE FRAME, TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. OCEAN - DAY
</b>
               Bobbing on the surface are three boats: the Amity Police 
               launch, the deserted Elizabeth T., from Newport, flying a 
               diver's flag, and the ScubaVue, a local diveboat operated by 
               Tom Andrews and his partner, Crosby; it has "Amity Aqua 
               Sports" lettered on it somewhere. Hendricks and Red are on 
               the deck of the police boat, peering at the cruiser.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Rich or poor, it's nice to have money.

<b>                                     RED
</b>                         Figure they split?

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Happens every season -- someone takes 
                         off. Once we had a schooner for a 
                         month while the owners went fox 
                         hunting.

               A sudden eruption in the water nearby startles them -- it's 
               Andrews, surfacing, holding up the underwater flash camera.

<b>                                     ANDREWS
</b>                         This is all there is.

               Crosby pops up next to him, shows empty hands.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         If that's it, that's it.

               The divers head for their boat, Hendricks fires up his engine, 
               and we:

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. BRODY'S OFFICE - DAY
</b>
               Brody is trying to reason with an indignant fat man.

<b>                                     INDIGNANT MAN
</b>                         I can't watch the news, I can't watch 
                         a ball game, I can't watch movies -- 
                         all I hear is that rotten kid with 
                         his rotten radio... "Breaker, 
                         Breaker..."

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I'll do what I can, but you're talking 
                         about a federal jurisdiction...

<b>                                     INDIGNANT MAN
</b>                              (leaving in a huff)
                         So call the FBI!

<b>                                     POLLY
</b>                         Black, two sugars.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Thanks. What else is out there?

<b>                                     POLLY
</b>                         One petty theft, one domestic 
                         disturbance, and an exhibitionist.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I'll take the exhibitionist, you 
                         handle the others.

<b>                                     WOMAN
</b>                         Chief Brody? I want you to do 
                         something about my first husband.

               Brody is caught in the open.

<b>                                     WHITE-HAIRED MAN
</b>                         Martin, you have got to demand that 
                         Grace Kinney keep her shades down.

<b>                                     2ND MAN
</b>                         What about enforcing the "No Parking" 
                         ordinance on Beach Road?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         In a minute, in a minute -- talk to 
                         Mrs. Prendergast, please...

<b>                         WOMAN
</b>                    (continuing)
                 Albert keeps coming 
                 around when I'm with 
                 gentlemen friends and 
                 he throws mud on their 
                 cars...

<b>                                                       2ND MAN
</b>                                                  (eager to be heard)
                                               Every time there's an out-
                                               of-state car in my driveway, 
                                               I lose another mailbox.  
                                               Those little iron sailboats 
                                               cost thirty-two dollars 
                                               each!

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (to White Haired Man)
                         Talk to me about Mrs. Kinney.

<b>                                     WHITE-HAIRED MAN
</b>                         Her bedroom window faces my oldest 
                         boy's bedroom, and she's teasing 
                         him, dancing around in a towel, or 
                         less...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Dancing?

               Hendricks has entered, carrying the camera brought up from 
               the bottom by the divers.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Chief...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Hendricks. I want to go over your 
                         reports and your Form 908.

               They go into Brody's inner office; the uproar continues behind 
               the door, but it's calm in here.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         I never heard of a 908.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I just made it up. It means, "Get me 
                         out of there."
                              (notices the camera)
                         What the hell's that?

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Diver's camera. Tom Andrews brought 
                         it up from under that abandoned 
                         cruiser.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Abandoned? It's a little early in 
                         the season for that.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Rich people. Home port is Newport, 
                         Rhode Island.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         If I had a $100,000 boat, I sure as 
                         hell wouldn't leave it anchored alone 
                         in the channel.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         If you had a $100,000 boat there'd 
                         be an investigation.

               Hendricks puts the camera in an informal "Lost & Found" box 
               sitting in the office. Brody makes the mistake of opening 
               the door, revealing the White-Haired Man.

<b>                                     WHITE-HAIRED MAN
</b>                         Grace Kinney is driving my boy to 
                         distraction.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Hendricks, get a description of that 
                         dance.

<b>                                     LARGE MAN
</b>                              (to Brody)
                         Chief Brody? I want to talk to you 
                         about my daughter... she's 15, but 
                         mature for her age...

<b>                         WOMAN
</b>                 Chief, I've been telling 
                 Mrs. Prendergast that 
                 it's no good just 
                 talking about Albert, 
                 she's got to do 
                 something...

<b>                                                       2ND MAN
</b>                                               Look -- the township is 
                                               responsible for protecting 
                                               life and property, and my 
                                               property is unprotected... 

               As Brody turns to deal with the mess, we:

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               UNDERWATER
</b>
               Looking up at the surface, where a hull floats in silhouette 
               against the daylight. There's a commotion, and a water ski 
               drops into view. Then another one. Pale legs churn the water.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. OCEAN - DAY
</b>
               Off Amity Beach, a bilious green lap-straked boat is bobbing 
               in the water, the engine idling. Two girls are fooling around; 
               the one in the water is Terry, the one driving the boat is 
               Diane.

<b>                                     TERRY
</b>                         Did you ever see a dolphin?

<b>                                     DIANE
</b>                         Sure. They like to play. We may see 
                         some today.

<b>                                     TERRY
</b>                         Great!

               She fumbles with her skis.

<b>                                     TERRY
</b>                         Whoops, almost lost one. Can't play 
                         with the dolphins without skis...

<b>                                     DIANE
</b>                         Ready?

<b>                                     TERRY
</b>                         Hang on, hang on... Okay, go.

               Diane goes to the controls, and puts the engine into gear, 
               starting forward. Terry waves "okay," Diane opens up the 
               throttle, the boat surges forward, pulling Terry upright.

               A wake boils out from under her skis.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE BEACH
</b>
               Ed and Tina are camped on a blanket, necking in the shelter 
               of the dunes. There's a portable radio, a cooler with some 
               beer, and some sandwiches -- a perfect afternoon alone. Above 
               the dune, behind them lies the ocean, where the girls' ski 
               boat can be seen, raising a big wake. Tina disengages, and 
               sits up, brushing sand out of her hair.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         Take a break for a minute, okay?

<b>                                     ED
</b>                         Huh?

               Tina stands, and looks out to the sea, where the boat is 
               towing Terry on the water.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         Eddie, can we do that?
                              (no reaction)
                         Can we go skiing? We can use my 
                         Uncle's boat. Eddie?

<b>                                     ED
</b>                         Next week.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         With you, everything's next week. I 
                         want to go skiing soon. Tomorrow?

               Ed grunts non-comittally. Tina takes a beer from the cooler, 
               and goes up on the dune to watch Terry and Diane. She waves 
               to them, and to someone down the beach.

<b>               EXT. BEACH HOUSE - DAY
</b>
               An old lady, Grace Witherspoon, is rocking on her porch, 
               also enjoying the view of young people enjoying themselves. 
               She acknowledges Tina's distant wave, and turns her attention 
               back to the skiers.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE SKIERS
</b>
               having a wonderful time. Terry is good, criss-crossing the 
               wake, showing off.

<b>               CLOSE ON TERRY
</b>
               rushing through the water, waving, stunting.

<b>                                     TERRY
</b>                         Faster! Faster!

               She waves at Diane, who leans over the controls, to coax 
               more speed out of the old engine.

<b>               UNDERWATER
</b>
               following the skis effortlessly, closing in on the turbulent 
               wake.

<b>               ON THE SURFACE
</b>
               Terry whipping along; a fin raises near her. She glances at 
               it, waves, thinking it's a porpoise.

<b>                                     TERRY
</b>                         Porpoise! Look! A dolphin!

               The fin slides low in the water, heading towards her. She 
               puts the rope around her waist, leaving both hands free.

<b>               UNDERWATER
</b>
               Closing in on the wake, crossing it.

<b>               TERRY - ON THE SURFACE
</b>
               The fin cuts across her path. Too late to maneuver, Terry 
               hits the looming gray back of the Shark. The skis bump, leave 
               the water, Terry takes a spectacular spill. The rope around 
               her waist tows her helpless through the water, gagging her, 
               preventing her from shouting. She flounders as Diane slows 
               the boat to see what's happened.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE BOAT
</b>
               turning back to see if her friend hit a submerged log or 
               hurt herself.

<b>                                     DIANE
</b>                         Terry! You okay?

<b>                                     TERRY
</b>                         Help! Help!

<b>                                     DIANE
</b>                         Okay, okay, coming...

               She still doesn't realize the gravity of the situation -- 
               she hasn't seen the fin.

<b>               ANGLE ON TERRY
</b>
               hysterical, pulling herself hand-over-hand up the rope, trying 
               to get to the boat.

<b>               UNDERWATER
</b>
               Closing in on the thrashing figure.

<b>               TERRY
</b>
               Screaming, as the Shark rises from the deep and takes her.

               Suddenly she's gone, a swirl of pink froth marking the water 
               where she went under.

<b>               IN THE BOAT - DIANE
</b>
               Looking around for her friend, suddenly panicky. She pulls 
               the rope hard, and tumbles backward as it comes up with 
               nothing on it -- just a cleanly bitten end.

<b>                                     DIANE
</b>                              (screaming)
                         Terry!

               Then the Shark appears, blood on its mouth, lunging up and 
               butting the stern, jarring the engine loose. Fuel spills 
               from a ruptured line.

<b>                                     DIANE
</b>                         Help! God, help!

               She throws things at the Shark, which slides back under the 
               water.

<b>               DISTANT ANGLE ON THE BOAT - FROM THE BEACH
</b>
               Diane can be seen flailing in the boat, very distant screams 
               floating across the water; at this range they sound like the 
               normal shrieks of teen-age girls having fun....

<b>               ANGLE ON THE BOAT - CLOSE
</b>
               as the Shark hits from a fresh angle, this time taking a 
               chunk out of the boat, biting down with powerful jaws. Diane 
               hurls seat-cushions, oars, anything she can lay hands on.

               She fumbles desperately in a compartment, produces a flare 
               pistol. She cocks it and fires point-blank at the shark.

<b>               CLOSE ON THE SHARK
</b>
               The flare hits, wet fuel glistening on the water and skin of 
               the Shark explodes in a sheet of flame.

<b>               DIANE
</b>
               A last flash before the gasoline explodes.

<b>                                     DIANE
</b>                         No-o-o-o-o-o...!

               A sheet of fire, she's in the middle, screaming, aflame, the 
               Shark forgotten. She falls into the water as the ruined boat 
               overturns and there's an oily explosion.

<b>               EXT. BEACH - DAY - ED AND TINA
</b>
               Ed and Tina look up as they hear the distant "crump" of the 
               boat blowing up.

<b>               EXT. PORCH - DAY
</b>
               Mrs. Witherspoon looks up, startled by the sudden tragedy.

               She gets up to go to the phone, indoors, and we:

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. OCEAN - DAY - AMITY POLICE BOAT
</b>
               The launch is anchored at the site of the explosion, offshore.

               Red is fishing up bits of flotsam with a boathook. Hendricks 
               is on the radio, talking to the shore.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         I can't find anyone out here. They 
                         must've gone to the bottom, or drifted 
                         with the current.

<b>               BRODY ON SHORE
</b>
               He's on the porch of tile Witherspoon house, using his 
               portable walkie-talkie. Mrs. Witherspoon is waiting in the 
               b.g.

               Nearby, we can see a sign: "BURIED CABLE: Call New England 
               Light and Power Before Digging." The cable itself surfaces 
               in a chain-link fenced enclosure, and climbs a power pole 
               for distribution to the island. Ed and Tina are also there, 
               having given statements.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         There should be bodies. Witnesses 
                         say two people; one in the boat, one 
                         skiing.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS (O.S.)
</b>                              (filtered)
                         I told you -- nothing here.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Try dragging.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS (O.S.)
</b>                         For how long? Current's moving 
                         everything around, and it's getting 
                         dark.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Stay on it. I don't care how long it 
                         takes.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS (O.S.)
</b><b>                         10-4.
</b>
               Brody turns to Ed and Tina, and takes out his notebook.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         We heard this noise, like a 'boomp' 
                         out there, and when we looked, there 
                         was just this cloud of smoke.

<b>                                     GRACE
</b>                         That was the explosion. One minute 
                         they were having a wonderful time, 
                         the next, bang!

<b>               BRODY
</b>
<b>                                     GRACE
</b>                         I don't know what could've done that.

               Brody stares out at the quiet sea -- what's lurking under 
               that calm surface?

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         Can we go now?

               Brody's still looking past them, towards the ocean.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         Chief Brody -- can we go? Please?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Oh, yeah. Sure.

               As he gazes at the ocean, we hear the sound of a distant 
               siren, and

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. AMITY - DAY
</b>
               An ambulance, siren wailing and red light flashing, drives 
               on its melancholy way through the picturesque town.

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               ABROAD THE POLICE BOAT - NIGHT
</b>
               Hendricks has the winch in operation, the cable in his hand, 
               with big grappling hooks attached. The boat is lit by its 
               powerful worklights. Hendricks heaves them out, watches as 
               the current takes them, then puts the winch in gear, hauling 
               back.

<b>                                     RED
</b>                         How much longer?

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Until we find something.

<b>                                     RED
</b>                         I don't care about the overtime, I'm 
                         hungry. And cold. And most of all, 
                         bored.

<b>               INSERT - THE WINCH CABLE
</b>
               It goes taut with a sudden strain.

<b>               ANGLE ON HENDRICKS
</b>
               He sees it, too.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         I think we got something.

               Red moves to the winch, watching warily as it slows to a 
               near stall with the weight.

<b>                                     RED
</b>                         About damn time.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         What the hell is it?

               There's a strain on the cable -- it's pulling the stern of 
               the boat down as it struggles with the weight.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Here it comes...

<b>               ANGLE ON THE WATER
</b>
               lit by the harsh worklights on the deck of the launch. The 
               cable from the winch is taut, pulling something up from the 
               black depths. What? The coupling appears, then the hook, and 
               an oily cable.

<b>                                     RED
</b>                         Oh shit. Drop it.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         What is it?

<b>                                     RED
</b>                         Power line.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Oh, great.

               He hits the release on the winch, and the cable whines as it 
               spins out and settles back on the bottom. Red jiggles the 
               line, trying to free it up.

<b>                                     RED
</b>                         It comes here from Cable Junction.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Untangle it and let's go -- We don't 
                         need a blackout on the island.

<b>                                     RED
</b>                              (at the winch)
                         Now you're talking. Let's get out of 
                         here before we do find something.

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. BRODY KITCHEN - DAY
</b>
               The next morning, the Brody family is downstairs, each getting 
               his own special breakfast. Mike gets cereal for himself and 
               Sean, Ellen is cracking some soft-boiled eggs, Brody is 
               drinking coffee and smoking.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         You have to smoke so early in the 
                         morning?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         It's good with coffee.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         So's a donut.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         I want Fruit Loops!

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Eat Cheerios.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         You eat Cheerios. I want Fruit Loops.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Eat Cheerios.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         What're you guys doing today?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                              (indicates Sean)
                         I don't know about him -- I'm going 
                         down to the dock, maybe go sailing.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Every day?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         What else is there to do?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         You could work out at the beach, 
                         make a few bucks for school.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Do I have to?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         You'll have to make up your own mind 
                         about that.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Where's my day book?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         In the den.

               Ellen passes them on the way to the den to look for it.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         He doesn't have to work all the time, 
                         it's his vacation.

               Mrs. Silvera enters from the service porch.

<b>                                     MRS. SILVERA
</b>                         Good morning -- everyone up early 
                         today?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         There's a lot going on.

               He follows Ellen into the den.

<b>               INT. DEN - DAY
</b>
               Ellen is rummaging around the papers on the end table, looking 
               for her book.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Why don't you take a half day and 
                         clean this junk up?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Because, I'm in the middle of a 
                         boating accident, I got only four 
                         regular cops and one secretary, and 
                         a Chief Deputy who is constantly 
                         fiddling with the police boat. He's 
                         another one.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         One what?
                              (she finds the book)
                         Ah-ha!

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Boat nut. What is it about this place 
                         that makes everyone a freak for 
                         boating?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         It's an island.
                              (she pecks him on the 
                              cheek)
                         Got to run.

               She heads out the door for the office. Mike approaches.

<b>               ANGLE ON MIKE AND BRODY
</b>
<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I'm going.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         What about tennis? Riding? Fixing up 
                         old cars? Bartending?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Bartending? I'm 17.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Okay, not bartending. Why on the 
                         water every day?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Because.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Look, humor the old man -- just be 
                         careful.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                              (going)
                         I'll be careful. I'll see y'later.

<b>               INT. KITCHEN
</b>
               Mike passes through on his way out, nodding to Mrs. Silvera 
               who acknowledges his passage.  Brody is close on his heels.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Don't go out if it's rough or 
                         anything, huh? We've had a lot of 
                         trouble.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Okay, okay.

               The back door slams behind him.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Can I go with you today?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         You stay with Mrs. Silvera, Tootsie. 
                         Okay?

               Sean nods, resigning himself to the inevitable.

<b>                                     MRS. SILVERA
</b>                              (to Sean)
                         You can come with me to the market.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         All right.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I'll be at the office.

               Mrs. Silvera nods, and pours Sean a glass of milk. Brody 
               sighs, and heads out the door. Sean calls after him.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Bye, Daddy. I'm going to be careful, 
                         all day.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. OCEAN - DAY
</b>
               Sitting snug and ship-shape on Mike's Green Machine are Mike, 
               Andy, Brooke, and Jackie. They are heeled over in a brisk 
               wind, making good headway; sailing nearby in the b.g. are 
               Patrick and Lucy and Donny and Denise, in their boats.

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                              (from her boat)
                         Where're we going?

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Oh, out a ways. Maybe the lighthouse.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         The lighthouse?

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         No big thing, we'll see who's out 
                         there, maybe picnic.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         We got some stuff at the store. Ed 
                         and Tina are going to be there.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Oh, sure, they would be.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         What's the lighthouse?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         It's an island, near here, with a 
                         lighthouse. We sometimes hang out 
                         there, you know...

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Great. I got some wine.

               She opens her big floppy bag, revealing the top half of a 
               jug of Mountain Red. Brooke slides over to her.

<b>               ANGLE ON BROOKE AND JACKIE
</b>
<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                              (aside)
                         The lighthouse is a make-out spot.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Now I really want to see it.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         You going to fool around with Mike?
                              (Jackie shrugs)
                         Well, I'm not doing anything with 
                         him.

               She indicates Andy, who pretends great indifference.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Well, maybe I will, then.

               Andy does about a triple take before he regains his cool.

               Mike concentrates on his sailing, Jackie grins an impish, 
               vixen grin, Brooke shrugs.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. LIGHTHOUSE - DAY
</b>
               spectacular view from the top of the old lighthouse, showing 
               ocean, sandy beach, some of the Kids' catamarans pulled up 
               on the sand, other pleasure boats cruising in the b.g.

               Ed and Tina are running down the stairs, laughing.

<b>                                     ED
</b>                         Come on back up here!

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         Nope.

<b>                                     ED
</b>                         Give me back my hat!

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         Double nope!

<b>               ANGLE ON THE SAND
</b>
               where Andy, Mike, Jackie, and Brooke are camped around a 
               blanket listening to a portable radio. Ed and Tina run by.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Why'd they decide to move?

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Too hot in the lighthouse?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Too hot for those two? I can't believe 
                         it.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Is there something I don't know about?

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         I told you, remember?

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Oh, yeah. So why aren't they doing 
                         it now?

               There's a little round of giggling.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Maybe by now they are.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         They're moving pretty fast.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         He's cute...

<b>               ANGLE ON ED & TINA
</b>
               running towards a dune and over it.

<b>               ANGLE ON MASSIVE SHAPE
</b>
               in f.g., covered with birds. Ed and Tina appear over the 
               crest of a dune, and the frame explodes in a flurry of 
               seagulls, suddenly disturbed. The whir and drumbeat of wings, 
               and the shrieking of the gulls is a jarring shock.

<b>               CLOSEUP - TINA
</b>
               reacting.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         Yech!

<b>               HER POINT OF VIEW
</b>
               The huge hulk of a beached, decomposing dead whale, a few 
               birds still pecking at scraps of blubber and entrails. Big 
               festering red holes mark its sides.

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               LONG SHOT -  SAND AND WHALE
</b>
               From the top of the lighthouse, we can see a group of 
               interested spectators, clustered around the whale like ants 
               at a picnic. A few more boats are beached and riding at anchor 
               just off the shore, including the Amity police boat.

               Three Ants are walking towards the crowd, one of them 
               gesturing.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY, HENDRICKS AND A WOMAN
</b>
               She's Lureen Elkins, a marine biologist from the Oceanographic 
               Institute, and she's skeptical. Brody is the ant whose 
               antennae were waving in the long shot.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         As soon as I heard about it, I called 
                         you. This thing is big!

               His arms indicate big.

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         After we've looked, we'll talk.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         This is it.

               He moves forward to clear the crowd. Some kids are poking 
               the massive hulk with sticks. A tourist couple is snapping 
               away with a Polaroid SX-70. The whole mess stinks, too.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Move back, please... back off... 
                         open it up a little...

               The crowd edges back, giving way to Brody and Elkins.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         See? What'd I tell you?

<b>               ANGLE ON THE WHALE
</b>
               Brody is holding a handkerchief to his nose as he approaches 
               the dead thing, indicating a huge open wound on the side.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Look at that!

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         First things first.

               She produces a tape measure and gives one end to Brody.

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         From the tip of the snout, please.

               Elkins is measuring the length of the creature. She calls 
               off numbers to Hendricks, who is officiously writing it all 
               down, repeating numbers as he hears them.

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         Length, 22 feet, 8 inches.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Come on, let's check the bite radius.

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                              (cold)
                         The what?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Bite radius. You know, the size of 
                         the mouth?

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         The whale's mouth?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         The Shark's mouth.

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         What shark?

               Brody pitches his voice low, so that the crowd won't listen.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         The shark that did this. It was a 
                         shark, wasn't it?

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         We don't know that, do we?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         But that's what we're here to find 
                         out, right?

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         You don't tell me my job, and I won't 
                         tell you about yours, okay?

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         I can't hear you if you're going to 
                         whisper.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Can we go now?

               He turns to join the kids as they slip through the crowd to 
               return to their blanket, ad-libbing good-byes.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (to Mike)
                         You stay here a minute.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Oh, c'mon.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         You heard me.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         We'll be over by the lighthouse.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I'll be right there. Wait up.

               They hang around, waiting for him. Elkins has reclaimed 
               Brody's attention.

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         Could be a shark. But maybe not.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Look, I know a little bit about 
                         sharks.

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         Do you?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I know that this was probably a Great 
                         White Shark. Car-cadon... Caradan...

               He fumbles for the correct Latin.

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                              (helping out)
                         Carcharadon Carcharias.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         That's it.

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         Okay, so that's it.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Is there one in these waters?

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         What makes you think there might be?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Because this big fish has been bitten 
                         by some other big fish...

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         This is a mammal, not a fish.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Jesus, don't quibble with me. I want 
                         to know if a Great White Shark did 
                         this.

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         Probably.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         That's it? Probably? Look, sharks 
                         are attracted by blood, and thrashing 
                         around...

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         And sound.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (this is a new one)
                         Sound?

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         Sound. Like sonar, or radar. They 
                         home in on irregular sounds, unusual 
                         sounds, any rhythmic low-frequency 
                         vibration.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         So there's one around here.

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         Not necessarily. These wounds could've 
                         been inflicted 30 miles out to sea, 
                         or more. None of them are immediately 
                         fatal. Currents could've carried the 
                         body 10 miles further.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                              (chiming in)
                         We got a helluva tide this month.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Could you just keep that crowd back, 
                         please?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                              (fidgeting)
                         Pop...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         You stay right here. You're going in 
                         with me.

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY AND MIKE
</b>
               As Elkins examines the whale, calling her observations to 
               Hendricks.

<b>                         MIKE
</b>                 We came out in my boat.

<b>                         BRODY
</b>                 Andy can sail in it.

<b>                         MIKE
</b>                 I got a date!

<b>                         BRODY
</b>                 She'll understand.

<b>                         MIKE
</b>                 She won't. 

<b>                                                       ELKINS
</b>                                               Lower jaw displaced and 
                                               lacerated by predator 
                                               attempt to seize the tongue. 
                                               Additional large tissue 
                                               loss in the dorsal and sub-
                                               dorsal areas, as well as 
                                               the caudal. Oriamal bite 
                                               radius 37 inches, allowing 
                                               for salt-water erosion and 
                                               subsequent small predator 
                                               and scavenger tissue 
                                               attacks...

               The Kids have moved a little closer to hear what's going on 
               between father and son.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I don't want to discuss it.

               Elkins crosses to Brody.

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         It's either a Great White, or another 
                         killer whale.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Can't you tell?

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         Not when it's like this. This animal 
                         has been ashore for 10, 12 hours, 
                         and drifting for a day, at least. 
                         Every little nibbler in the sea's 
                         taken a bite.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Look -- can Great White Sharks 
                         communicate? Send out signals, or 
                         something? You know, take revenge, 
                         sense an enemy...

<b>                                     ELKINS
</b>                         Don't be ridiculous -- Sharks don't 
                         take things personally.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Dad, please...

               Brody turns on him.  This at least, is something he can do 
               something about.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         No more sailing. You come back with 
                         me, and that's it.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Why me?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Because I say so.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         I'll tie up at the town dock, don't 
                         worry, man.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         See you later, Mikey...

<b>                                     ED AND TINA
</b>                         Later, bye...
                              (ad lib)

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. AMITY TOWN HALL - DAY
</b>
               Vaughn and Brody enter, walking through the spare, empty 
               town meeting hall, towards the conference table. They are 
               alone.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         I'm showing summer rentals. We got a 
                         helluva season going.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         We have got to talk, and we have got 
                         to talk alone.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         We're alone.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Larry, I don't know how to say this, 
                         but I think we got a shark problem. 
                         A real one.

               Vaughn stares at him, then unlocks the door to his private 
               office -- "Mayor" -- and leads Brody in.

<b>               INT. VAUGHN'S OFFICE - DAY
</b>
               Small, expensively furnished in antiques, with a few symbols 
               of Amity boosterism cluttering one wall: a photo of the beach, 
               featuring a shark tower; an architect's rendering of the new 
               Holiday Inn, some charts and graphs showing upward progress, 
               a few stills of businessmen's luncheons, plaques, awards, 
               etc.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Are you serious?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Of course. Look -- I've got some 
                         missing persons, fatalities, evidence 
                         of a large predator...

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         No one has seen a shark -- no fin, 
                         no bites, nothing. Be realistic.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I got a feeling. I have to act on it -- 
                         you can understand that, can't you?

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Of course I can, but can't it wait? 
                         These things cost money, and this 
                         town doesn't have much money.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         We have to do something.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         We have done something -- hell, we 
                         damn near went broke putting up a 
                         shark watch tower on the beach -- 
                         it's the only one in 2000 miles, 
                         y'know.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I know, I know...

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         And I stood by while you told the 
                         people from Ramada and Marriott that 
                         if they put up a hotel they'd need 
                         $800,000 worth of steel net around 
                         their beaches! In New England? We 
                         all lost on that one.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         It's still a good idea.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Martin, when we build up our tax 
                         base a little, you can have everything 
                         you want; right now, the town's broke.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Please, Larry -- there's good reason.
                         Those water skiers...

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                              (interrupting)
                         A tragedy. But that was a boating 
                         accident; no bites, no sharks, nothing 
                         but a boating accident.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Two of them are still missing!

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         There's always deaths in these waters 
                         that never turn up. Are they all 
                         shark victims?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Maybe they are!

               Brody's overstated his case, and he realizes it.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Bullshit.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (shouting)
                         Bullshit? I'll give you bullshit -- 
                         there's a dead whale out there with 
                         bites all over it!

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                              (shouting back)
                         What am I, an ass? When you called 
                         me, I called Elkins, and her bosses. 
                         Nothing she saw is proof of anything.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Someone has to do something.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                              (back in control)
                         Don't push it this time. If you do, 
                         it won't turn out the way you want, 
                         I guarantee you that.

               The two men study each other for a long moment. Then,

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         I've got to get back to work.

               He holds the door for Brody, who walks out as Vaughn lags 
               behind, locking up his sanctum.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. AMITY BEACH ROAD - DAY (DUSK)
</b>
               Brody is alone in the jeep, headed for the safety of home 
               and family. He drives past the town's billboard: it's covered 
               with an architect's rendering of the Amity Holiday Inn. The 
               sign reads: "WHEN IN AMITY, ENJOY THE HOLIDAY INN."

               Plastered across it is an added streamer: "NOW OPEN." Barely 
               visible underneath are older notices: "UNDER CONSTRUCTION," 
               and "OPENING IN JUNE."

               As Brody passes the sign, he impulsively swings off the main 
               road and heads down towards the beach.

<b>               EXT. BEACH - DUSK
</b>
               Brody is on restless patrol, checking the water's edge as he 
               continues on home. As he drives along, he sees: a clambake; 
               some teen-agers in a group, necking and dancing; and a few 
               solitary surfcasters and fishermen.

               The beach is deserted, the sun is setting, and Brody and his 
               jeep have the sand to themselves. It's then that he sees 
               something:

<b>               BRODY'S POINT OF VIEW
</b>
               A big bow section of a ruined, burnt boat is bobbing in the 
               surf just off the beach ahead. It's a piece of the 
               waterskiers' boat; Brody heads towards it.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE SURF
</b>
               As Brody slows his jeep just short of the water, and gets 
               out to look at the flotsam. His shoes get wet. He backs up 
               onto dry sand, then tries to edge closer to examine this 
               object.

               It bobs up and down in the surf; Brody makes "Get in here" 
               motions. The junk resists.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Come on, give a guy a break.

               No response. He takes off his shoes and socks, and rolls up 
               his trouser legs. A silly sight. He wades into the water 
               after it.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Come on. Here boy. Come to Poppa...

               It eludes him, and he flounders after it. A big wave breaks 
               across his crotch.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Hoo! Cold!

               He's almost there, it's just beyond his reach, he's got it, 
               he's lost it, he has it again, it's slippery...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (ad lib)
                         Come here. Come on, Sweetheart. You 
                         bastard. A little closer... Here 
                         y'go...

               Then, he's got it ---

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (exultant)
                         Gotcha!

<b>               CLOSE ON BRODY IN THE WATER
</b>
               As he grabs the ruined wood, and pulls it towards him. 
               Suddenly, the mass of wreckage breaks apart, and something 
               lunges out of the mess and into Brody.

<b>               SHOCK CUT CLOSEUP - "THE THING"
</b>
               Brody is suddenly pinned under a soggy charred horror; the 
               gory remains of Diane, burnt beyond recognition,: flesh peeled 
               away, discolored, charred, ruined by days in salt water. He 
               screams, and scrabbles in the wet sand, trying to get out of 
               the dreadful clutches of the half-human thing he's dredged 
               from the water.

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY
</b>
               Extricating himself, puking, retching, splashing water on 
               his face, washing his hands frantically, just behind him, 
               The Thing lying on the sand, a gruesome joke played by the 
               sea.

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. BRODY'S OFFICE - NIGHT - EXTREME CLOSEUP - CYANIDE 
</b><b>               BOTTLE
</b>
               Macro close on a pharmaceutical bottle of Sodium Cyanide, 
               from which a syringe is withdrawing a healthy dose. Follow 
               the syringe and reveal Brody, working at his desk in the 
               deserted office. He is injecting the deadly chemical into 
               some jacketed .38 hollow-point ammunition; a dozen cartridges 
               are lined up in neat array, he is filling the last of them, 
               sealing the points with wax from a burning red candle. The 
               radio scanner is monitoring the local police band: routine 
               reports faintly in the b.g. -- a slow night in pre-season 
               Amity.

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY
</b>
               As a sound at the door makes him look up. He hides the odd 
               gear as Hendricks enters, starched and crisp in his uniform.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Chief?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         In here.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         I missed you at the funeral home. 
                         Santos said you were here.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         You didn't miss much. Christ, what a 
                         mess.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Positive I.D.?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         The woman passenger on the boat that 
                         blew up.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Oh.

               There's an awkward pause. Brody sees the box with the divers' 
               stuff sitting where it was left earlier.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         What about that camera?

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         What camera?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         That one -- from the wreck. You 
                         brought it up, did you look inside 
                         it?

               Hendricks' guilty look confirms he didn't.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Well, what the hell -- might be 
                         something worth seeing. Take it 
                         somewhere and see if there's film in 
                         it...

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                              (catching on)
                         If there is, develop it!

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         You got it.

               The Deputy rummages in the locker, happy to be on the trail.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         I know just where to go.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Not the drugstore!

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Of course not, They're closed. Phil 
                         Fogarty's place. He'll do it for me.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         The drugstore's closed? What the 
                         hell time is it?

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Nine-thirty, ten maybe.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Shit -- I'm late for dinner... Close 
                         up, okay?

               And he runs for the door, the speed-loaders with the Cyanide 
               bullets safely in his pocket.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (at the door)
                         Oh yeah -- I'm expecting a long 
                         distance call, very important. Give 
                         them my home phone.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Right.

               Brody pats his pockets to make sure the speed-loaders are 
               safe inside, then exits. As Hendricks watches him go,

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. BRODY HOUSE - NIGHT
</b>
               Brody's jeep pulls up, and he gets out, beat. He is slouching 
               towards the door when he hears the phone ring inside. He 
               perks up, and starts to move faster.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. BRODY HOUSE - NIGHT
</b>
               Ellen is on the phone in the den as Brody enters the house.

               The Kids are on the floor in front of the TV, playing an 
               electronic video game that pings and beeps softly under the 
               following.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                              (into the phone)
                         Thank you. I'll tell him.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         For me?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                              (hanging up)
                         Sort of -- Matthew Hooper is aboard 
                         the research vessel Aurora, presently 
                         in the Antarctic Ocean, and won't be 
                         in radio range until half-past next 
                         spring.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Damn.

               He starts upstairs, casually concealing the towel-wrapped 
               package of gun and ammunition.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Is Hooper coming to dinner?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Not till next year.

               He goes upstairs, Ellen waits a few beats, then follows him.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. BRODY HOUSE - UPSTAIRS - NIGHT
</b>
               Brody comes up the stairs and goes into the bedroom, where 
               he carefully puts the gun in the bed table. Ellen finds him.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Oh, hi -- How was dinner?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Oh, perfect -- a 75 per cent family 
                         affair. Where were you?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (getting up)
                         Santos' place.

               They both know what that means -- the morgue. Brody goes 
               into the bathroom and starts scrubbing his hands compulsively.

<b>               INT. BRODY HOUSE - BATHROOM AND HALLWAY - NIGHT
</b>
               Ellen follows Brody, watches as he washes under too-hot water.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Oww!

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Careful. What's wrong?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Nothing.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Nothing, huh?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         That's what I said. Is there any of 
                         that hand cleaner stuff?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Use the little brush there. Why were 
                         you at Santos'?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Found one of the missing victims 
                         from that boat deal.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Oh. Want to talk about it?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         No.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Terrific.

               Mike comes up the stairs, and is starting into his room when 
               Brody spots him; Sean is just behind him.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Michael.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Yeah?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         You want to come here a minute?

               Mike shrugs and crosses to his father; Sean whizzes past on 
               into his room.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Hi Dad.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Hiya yourself.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         What is it?

               He expects something: this is a formal audience with the 
               Head of The House.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I got something for you to do 
                         tomorrow.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I kind of had plans...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Sailing?
                              (Mike nods)
                         Forget it. You're beached. Grounded. 
                         No more boats.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Hey, come on...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         No backtalk! I spoke to Upton, at 
                         the beach, and he's got a job for 
                         you there. You can work until school 
                         starts.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         All summer?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         He wanted a job, he's got one. I 
                         want to see that boat out of the 
                         water by tomorrow night.

               We see Sean's door opening as he peeps into the hall to see 
               what the fuss is about.

<b>               ANGLE ON SEAN'S DOOR
</b>
               It opens a few inches, he looks out at the grownups and his 
               brother, decides he wants no part of this, and quietly closes 
               the door.

<b>                                     MIKE (O.S.)
</b>                         Dad, please...

<b>                                     BRODY (O.S.)
</b>                         Tomorrow night. Out of the water.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE HALLWAY
</b>
               Mike silently storms into his room, not-so-silently slamming 
               the door as he exits. From inside the room, loud rock music 
               muffled behind the door -- an expression of teen-age 
               rebellion.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Not so loud!

               The music lowers its volume. Brody turns to go into the 
               bedroom, to take his shoes off, to go to bed...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I know what you're going to say.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Do you?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (on the bed)
                         In the city, it happened all the 
                         time -- some Kid o.d.'s on a rooftop, 
                         top, a drunk gets cut in pieces under 
                         the Brooklyn local, old people die 
                         alone in shitty apartments and three 
                         weeks later someone calls the cops 
                         because of the smell and the flies.  
                         Call the cops. What are we, immune?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         It was bad, wasn't it.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         The goddamn smell is always the same.
                              (he shudders at the 
                              recollection)

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Are you going to be able to sleep?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Yeah. I think so.
                              (he raises his voice)
                         Mike! Keep it down, for chrissake!

               Ellen gets up, and quietly closes the door. The upstairs 
               hallway is empty, the doors closed. The Brody household 
               compartmented and closed for the night.

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. AMITY BEACH - DAY
</b>
               The familiar striped cabanas flank the white sands; there's 
               a crowd of midweek seasonal tourists and locals oblivious to 
               the tall steel tower that dominates the beach.

               A classy van outfitted for passengers pulls into the parking 
               area, followed by Vaughn's Cadillac; the parking attendant 
               waves them into a preferential area, where they disembark:

               Vaughn, Peterson, Ellen, and some more prospects, including 
               a woman named Bryant and her daughter, Renee.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         This is the town beach; the 
                         development naturally has its own 
                         private access, but I wanted you to 
                         see the concession area. Look at 
                         that sand -- like sugar!

               He scoops up a handful of the fine powder. Ellen directs the 
               attention of the photographers.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         During the summer, the sun sets right 
                         there...
                              (she points)
                         Over the water. Beautiful.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                              (to Ellen)
                         I'll say hello for you.

               Ellen nods, preoccupied. Vaughn strolls away, headed in the 
               direction of the cabanas. Mary Nichols, a local Selectwoman, 
               emerges from behind the counter of one of the concessions.

<b>                                     NICHOLS
</b>                         Hello -- selling some more of the 
                         good life?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         A piece here, a piece there, it all 
                         adds up.

<b>                                     NICHOLS
</b>                         Your husband's been here all morning. 
                         What's he doing?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                              (good-naturedly)
                         His job.

               Michael Brody, dressed in township workman's coveralls, is 
               repainting some flaking woodwork. Sean is happily mixing 
               paint. Vaughn joins them.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Your dad got you working?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Yeah.

               He continues his chore, without enthusiasm.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         I'm helping.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         You know where your dad is?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Up there.

               He points at the tower.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Oh, for Christ's sake.

               He crosses briskly to where Peterson is finishing.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         And if you have any questions about 
                         recreational possibilities, Ellen 
                         Brody here will be happy to answer 
                         them.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Len, can I see you a minute?

               Peterson excuses himself and joins the Mayor.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         I think we got a couple of live ones.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Brody's riding his tower.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                              (looking up)
                         Oh, shit.

<b>               BRODY IN THE TOWER
</b>
               sweeping the water with binoculars, restless eyes trying to 
               scan everything, a grim watchman high over the heads of the 
               unseeing crowd.

<b>               ON THE WATER
</b>
               Larry Vaughn, Jr. comes skimming in close to the surf. Bob 
               is handling the sheets, Larry is giving young Jackie sailing 
               lessons -- at the moment he's showing her how the tiller 
               works.  He's on her like glue.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         This is fun! Can we go faster?

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                              (to Bob)
                         Trim.

               Bob does, Larry trims the main, and the hull lifts.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Yay!

               She snuggles in Larry's arms. He waves to someone.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         That's my dad!

               Jackie waves without seeing.

<b>               ON THE BEACH
</b>
               Vaughn waves back, preoccupied. Near him, Mike Brody looks 
               up, his face grim, jealous, and now a little nuts. He splashes 
               paint onto the wood with angry abandon.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                              (to Peterson)
                         Wave to my son.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                              (waving)
                         How the hell do we get him down from 
                         there?

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Maybe nobody will notice. Let's get 
                         them back in the bus.

               Mrs. Bryant approaches them, tugging her daughter.

<b>                                     MRS. BRYANT
</b>                         Renee wants to know what that man is 
                         doing way up there?

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         He's, ah, watching. A lookout.

<b>                                     MRS. BRYANT
</b>                         For what?

<b>                                     RENEE
</b>                              (a precocious little 
                              girl)
                         It's a shark tower. I saw one in 
                         Florida. He's looking for sharks.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         It's an observation platform. That's 
                         our Chief of Police. He's just 
                         checking it.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         Normally, it's used for, ah, bird 
                         watching. Nature observation. Weather 
                         measurements, that sort of thing.
                              (a little desperate)
                         Ellen, we're running late!

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Okay. Folks, if we could get back 
                         on, we'll show you the country club, 
                         and stop for lunch...

               At the mention of lunch, the prospects, all hungry, begin 
               flocking back into the van. Peterson herds them along.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         The country club has an 18-hole 
                         course, putting greens, and twelve 
                         tennis courts...

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               BRODY IN THE TOWER
</b>
               still scanning. His body suddenly tenses. There's something 
               out there. He mashes his binoculars to his eyes, trying to 
               get a better look.

<b>               HIS POINT OF VIEW (PROCESS)
</b>
               Through the binoculars, something big and black, moving under 
               the buoys and into the swimming area.

<b>               BRODY AGAIN
</b>
               He can't believe it. But looking past him, we can see it 
               with the unaided eye: a seething dark mass, moving through 
               the water towards the unprotected bathers.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (screaming)
                         Out of the water! Everyone out of 
                         the water!

               No one can hear him. A few little faces look up, unable to 
               catch what he's saying. He starts climbing down the ladder 
               shouting.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Get out of the water! Tell everyone 
                         to get out! Now! Out of the water!

<b>               ANGLE ON PETERSON, VAUGHN, AND NICHOLS
</b>
               reacting.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                              (recalling another 
                              panic)
                         Oh, my God...

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         What the hell is he doing?

<b>                                     NICHOLS
</b>                         Oh, no!

<b>               ELLEN, MIKE, AND SEAN
</b>
               Looking up, startled at Brody's sudden panic.

<b>               THE WATER
</b>
               The dark mass almost on top of the swimmers, who are starting 
               to look around. Most of them are oblivious to what's happening 
               on shore.

<b>               FOLLOW BRODY
</b>
               as his feet hit the sand and he starts running for the water, 
               fumbling for his gun and the speed-loader with the cyanide 
               bullets. He is bumping into people, knocking little kids 
               over, stepping on blankets and umbrellas, a madman.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Out of the water! Now! Everyone!

<b>               VAUGHN
</b>
               Running too, half-stumbling, half-believing, remembering...

<b>               ELLEN
</b>
               Moving after her husband, while Mike steadies Sean, holding 
               the impulsive kid back.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                              (seeing something)
                         Martin! No!

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY AGAIN
</b>
               The gun is out now, he's trying draw a bead on the shape in 
               the water; chest heaving, he tries to steady his shaky grip. 
               People see the gun and scream, throwing themselves flat on 
               the sand, running, some of them going into the water.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         No! Don't go in! Stay out! Stay clear!

               He fires. Again. Bullets ricochet off the water, howling 
               towards the horizon. Real panic now. Four more shots.

               Reloading, ejected rounds falling bright into the sand, Brody 
               on his knees, fumbling with bullets.

<b>               ANGLE ON A LIFEGUARD
</b>
               standing on his platform, shocked, watching the Chief of 
               Police fumbling with his gun.

<b>                                     LIFEGUARD
</b>                         It's bluefish! It's a school of 
                         bluefish! Chief! It's bluefish!

<b>               ANGLE ON THE WATER
</b>
               It is bluefish -- a tight mass of them, churning up the water 
               in a dark, dense group. The swimmers look around, confused 
               by the shots and excitement.

<b>                                     A SWIMMER
</b>                         What's going on?

<b>                                     ANOTHER SWIMMER
</b>                         Fish! Anyone got a net?

<b>                                     3RD SWIMMER
</b>                         Someone get me a rod and reel!

               Laughter defuses the tension in the water; bathers move 
               around, some getting closer to see the fish, others leaving 
               the water to join friends and families on the sand.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE BEACH
</b>
               where Brody is now standing, panting, coming down as a crowd 
               collects at a safe distance around him: Ellen emerges from a 
               group that includes Vaughn, Peterson, and Nichols.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Sorry. I'm sorry. False alarm...

               Curious crowd murmurs as they watch this lunacy. Brody 
               realizes he's fired his weapon, that spent shells litter the 
               sand at his feet.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Okay, it's all over, go on, it's 
                         over. No trouble...

               Ellen joins him.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         It's okay. It's over...

               Brody drops to his knees, fumbling for the cyanide bullets 
               in his gun, trying to put things in order, scrabbling in the 
               sand for the empty shells.

               The crowd is curious and embarrassed. Some turn away, others

               drift back to their blankets, talking about what's just 
               happened, others stare rudely. Brody is coming apart.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         It's all right, everything's all 
                         right...

               Sean emerges from the crowd, and helps his daddy pick up the 
               bullets, Ellen moves to disperse the rudely curious.

<b>                                     ELLEN (O.S.)
</b>                         Let's go, everyone... Mrs. Bryant, 
                         Len, please...

<b>               CLOSE ON BRODY AND SEAN
</b>
               He sees Sean, his eyes fill with tears, and he grabs the kid 
               in a fierce hug.

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. TOWN HALL - DAY
</b>
               A hurriedly called meeting of the town's Selectmen is in 
               session: Vaughn, Peterson, and three others: Kaiser, an old 
               man still in his grocery clerk's apron; Sansom; and Nichols, 
               the woman on the beach.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Brody's a good man.

<b>                                     KAISER
</b>                         Nobody says he isn't.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         You should've been out there. You 
                         should've seen him waving that gun, 
                         like a maniac. There were shots fired!

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         He thought he had a good reason.

<b>                                     MS. NICHOLS
</b>                         But that's not rational behavior!

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         That's what I'm saying!

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         How many people were there?

<b>                                     MS. NICHOLS
</b>                         Hundred! Literally hundreds. What 
                         are they going to say about us?

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                              (to Vaughn)
                         Larry, I'm a businessman, trying to 
                         make a buck like anybody else.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         So? So?

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         So it can't be done like that. The 
                         man's a menace, plain and simple.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Look, what am I supposed to do? It's 
                         done, it's over. We have to deal 
                         with the consequences.

<b>                                     SANSOM
</b>                         That's what we're here to do.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         All right. Let's go into my office, 
                         where we can have a little privacy.

<b>               ANGLE FROM INSIDE VAUGHN'S OFFICE
</b>
               as the selectmen troop into the cramped quarters. Vaughn 
               deliberately closes the door as they find seats around the 
               room.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         I believe we have a quorum, and 
                         informally, I suggest we call this 
                         meeting an executive session and 
                         dispense with minutes...

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. BRODY'S OFFICE - DAY
</b>
               Brody, alone, is sitting at his desk, morosely studying a 
               little gold statuette of a pistol marksman. What's done is 
               done, and Brody is trying to figure out how to live with it. 
               The phone rings, is answered in the other room. The buzzer 
               sounds. Brody picks up his end.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Polly, no calls, please...
                              (she insists)
                         Okay, okay.
                              (he punches a button)
                         Hello... Phil? Fogarty? What 
                         pictures... I'll be right down...

               He slams down the phone and gets up to go, suddenly possessed 
               with a purpose.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. DARKROOM - DAY
</b>
               Amid the equipment, clutter and proofs, some shots of the 
               holidome opening, drying on wires. Phil Fogarty, the indignant 
               fat man and town photographer, is locking the door behind an 
               impatient Brody.

<b>                                     PHIL
</b>                         I don't know what you did, but that 
                         kid stopped. I haven't heard one 
                         peep, not one 'breaker breaker' for 
                         days. Believe me, it's a pleasure...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         You said something about a camera.

<b>                                     PHIL
</b>                         Sure, sure -- Jeff Hendricks brought 
                         in this camera, see, from underwater, 
                         and I didn't know how to get it open, 
                         but my brother-in-law, in Montauk, 
                         he works at a hi-fi store, and they 
                         sell cameras, so he...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (interrupting)
                         Did you get any pictures?

<b>                                     PHIL
</b>                         Well, yeah, I did, that's the funny 
                         thing. You can't tell much from the 
                         negatives, I was going to blow 'em 
                         up. Here's a test I did...

               He holds out an 8 x 10 proof, Brody snatches it from him.

<b>               INSERT - PHOTOGRAPH
</b>
               Brody stares down at it. Sure enough, the ghostly outlines 
               of the Orca, underwater, a diver on the deck making a gesture 
               at the camera.

<b>                                     BRODY (O.S.)
</b>                         Oh, Jesus. That boat...

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY AND PHIL
</b>
<b>                                     PHIL
</b>                         Not bad -- that's a real fast lens, 
                         probably 1.4. Look at the diffusion, 
                         though...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         What else you got?

<b>                                     PHIL
</b>                         Let's see -- you got a minute?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Come on, Phil, don't jerk me around.

<b>                                     PHIL
</b>                         Okay, okay -- stand over there...

               He gestures, Brody steps to one side of a table with some 
               big enamel pans for washing and developing prints. Phil 
               switches to a red light, and takes some printing paper, 
               putting it under the enlarger.

<b>               QUICK CUTS:
</b>
               --  Enlarger light going on.

               --  Timer ticking, the hand turning.

               --  Quick negative images: water, boat, diver, hand, boat 
               again, tantalizing fragments of the opening sequence projected 
               on the enlarger's flat base.

               --  Hypo and Developer sloshing in a pan under Phil's hands.

               --  Brody staring down.

<b>               INSERT (PROCESS)
</b>
               Quietly gaining contrast in a pan of developer, a print of 
               what at first looks like seaweed, then is unmistakably the 
               grinning jaws of the Great White.

<b>               SUBLIMINAL FLASH CUT - SHARK
</b>
               A quick nightmare vision of Brody, alone in a sinking Orca, 
               trapped in a battered cabin interior; a Great White crashes 
               through the glass, its head huge as it lunges.

<b>               INSERT PHOTOGRAPH IN DEVELOPER (PROCESS)
</b>
               The close-up detail of this otherwise blurred and unreadable 
               photo is unmistakably a detail from a very close view of the 
               snapping jaws of a Great White; if you hadn't seen it as a 
               memory, it would make no sense at all. For Brody, the meaning 
               is all too clear; for anyone who's never seen the monster 
               face-to-face, it's nothing.

<b>                                     BRODY (O.S.)
</b>                              (shaken)
                         That one there. That one...

               Phil's hands, holding plastic tongs, gently slosh the print 
               in the bath. The shark's features are indistinguishable from 
               the surrounding detail.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. TOWN HALL - NIGHT
</b>
               Brody walks into view, and starts up the steps into the town 
               hall, already lit from within. He's carrying a large envelope.

<b>               INT. TOWN HALL - NIGHT
</b>
               The Selectmen (Kaiser, Sansom, Nichols), Len Peterson, and 
               Vaughn are seated informally around the big table.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                              (looking up)
                         Speak of the devil.

               Brody enters, carrying the envelope with the photo.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Thank God you guys were all together. 
                         I got something for you. Proof!

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Martin, this is kind of an official 
                         meeting

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Perfect. Look at this ---

               He fumbles with the envelope.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Chief -- the Board of Selectmen has 
                         a question only you can answer.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (preoccupied)
                         What?

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         Is Jeff Hendricks qualified to fill 
                         in as an interim Chief of Police in 
                         your absence?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Temporarily? Uh... sure... The 
                         question's out of left field. Why 
                         are they asking?

<b>                                     NICHOLS
</b>                         So Jeff could handle things? He knows 
                         the routine, he has the authority?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Yeah. Why?

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         It came up during the meeting.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Look -- I just got this from Phil 
                         Fogarty. It was in the camera 
                         belonging to the missing divers. It 
                         proves I was right, all along.

               He throws the picture down in front of them. They bend over 
               to study it, pass it around, look at it.

<b>                         KAISER
</b>                 Seaweed?

<b>                                                       NICHOLS
</b>                                               It's underwater, isn't it? That's 
                                               why it's so dark.

<b>                                     SANSOM
</b>                         I don't know -- what is it?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         It's a shark! A Great White! Jesus, 
                         it's right there!

               He snatches up the photo.

<b>               INSERT PHOTO
</b>
               Just as before, an ambiguous pattern of light and dark; not 
               proof of anything without Brody's inner vision.

<b>                                     VAUGHN (O.S.)
</b>                         It's nothing I can see.

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY
</b>
               waving the picture.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         What are you all, blind? It's a shark. 
                         Look -- teeth, jaw, gills.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         Is that what it is?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         You're damn right that's what it is.

<b>                                     NICHOLS
</b>                         I'm sorry, I just don't see it.

               Sansom and Kaiser agree, ad lib, "That's nothing..."

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Martin, it could be anything.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (exploding)
                         What the hell does it take to make 
                         sense to you numbskulls? Jesus, it's 
                         right there in front of you. I know 
                         what a goddamn shark looks like, 
                         I've been through it, don't you 
                         understand? I've seen this sonofabitch 
                         before!

               The Selectmen look at each other in the face of Brody's 
               agitation. Tempers are running high.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         What have you seen before? This is 
                         nothing. Seaweed. Mud. Something in 
                         the lens.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         My ass!

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Be reasonable, please...

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                              (to Vaughn)
                         Forget it, he won't listen.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         There is nothing to discuss.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                              (blowing up)
                         Will you listen to this man? Will 
                         you just listen to him?
                              (to Brody)
                         You really caused a panic on a public 
                         beach, you shoot up the place, God 
                         knows who could've been injured -- 
                         what if somebody decides to sue us? 
                         That could ruin us.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Is that what it is? Dollars? Money? 
                         I'll pay for it. Take it out of my 
                         salary.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         You don't make enough.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Maybe I don't make as much money as 
                         some bullshit rip-off artists around 
                         here, but I don't work the same way.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         What's that supposed to mean?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         It means I don't like all that grab-
                         ass and heavy breathing with my wife, 
                         it means I know who's out to screw 
                         me here, and it means that I know 
                         something none of you know because 
                         I've been there -- and I don't want 
                         to go through that horror again. 
                         Ever!

               There's a long pause.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Martin, could you wait here for a 
                         few minutes while we make up our 
                         minds about something?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Go ahead, whatever it's worth.

               The Selectmen file into Vaughn's office, leaving Brody alone 
               in the room. The last one in the door very carefully makes 
               sure it's tightly shut.

               Brody sits alone at the table.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. VAUGHN'S OFFICE - NIGHT
</b>
               They are sitting there, deliberating.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         I won't mention his personal attack 
                         on me.

<b>                                     NICHOLS
</b>                         I've never seen him like this.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         And Hendricks is qualified, you heard 
                         that from his own mouth.

<b>                                     KAISER
</b>                         We made a motion and it was already 
                         seconded.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                              (official)
                         Very well then. It is moved and 
                         seconded that Martin Brody be relieved 
                         of his duties as Chief of Police, 
                         his contract with the township be 
                         terminated, and that Jeff Hendricks 
                         be appointed Acting Chief in the 
                         interim. Those in favor?

               All the hands go up.

<b>                                     PETERSON
</b>                         Anyone opposed, or is it unanimous?

               Vaughn's hand goes up, the sole dissent. They stare at him.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         I'm sorry, but I respect his 
                         convictions. The motion is carried.

               He goes to the door, and opens it.

<b>                                     VAUGHN
</b>                         Martin? Could you come in please?

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. BRODY HOUSE - NIGHT
</b>
               The police jeep pulls up and stops; although the engine's 
               shut down, Brody still sits quietly inside the car. Then his 
               hand appears at the window, and he drops an empty beer can 
               onto the lawn. Clink.

               After a while, he drops another beer can, then another, until 
               the "clinks" tell us he's polished off a six-pack on the way 
               home. Not too steady on his feet, Brody climbs out of the 
               car and starts for the door to his house.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. BRODY HOUSE - NIGHT
</b>
               Ellen is working at her desk in the den. She is looking 
               towards the door, expectantly -- it's been an unusually long 
               pause between car arrival and husband arrival. Brody enters.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Hi. I closed a sale today, without 
                         Len. That's $1200 commission, if the 
                         papers go through.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         That's great.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Sean's asleep.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         That's great too. Gorgeous.

               He takes a long look at her.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         You look about 22 years old sitting 
                         there. Like you were doing homework...

               He goes to join her, bumping into some furniture in the dimly 
               lit room. Ellen has a beer and sandwich half-finished on her 
               desk; Brody takes a healthy swallow from the beer.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                              (sensitive)
                         What's wrong?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Ooohh, nothing. I just got fired, 
                         that's all.

               He tosses the photo sloppily on the desk.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         What?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         What'd I say?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         That you were fired.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Then that's what I meant. Fired. 
                         Canned. Out on my fanny. The Selectmen 
                         just made Hendricks the new Chief of 
                         Police. Just like that.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Because of today? The beach?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (expansively)
                         No sweat. A blessing in disguise. 
                         Back to the city, you can go to 
                         Bloomingdale's without waiting six 
                         hours for the ferryboat... we're 
                         surrounded by water here, you realize 
                         that? Me, surrounded by water... 
                         Ridiculous.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Stop that! We're not going any place. 
                         You love it here. Tell me what the 
                         hell happened!

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Showed them the photo, showed them 
                         the goddamn Shark, big as life. They 
                         didn't see it. Not like me. Not like 
                         the poor son-of-a-bitch who snapped 
                         this li'l picture... He's out there, 
                         somewhere... I shot off my gun, shot 
                         off my big mouth, so they fired me...

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                              (studying the photo)
                         Honey, this is nothing... I don't 
                         know what it is. What did they...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (going on)
                         ...Everybody wants the job. No one 
                         wants the authority. Except Hendricks. 
                         Fine. He can go out there in that 
                         precious boat, and when he looks 
                         whitey in his big mouth he can just 
                         call me. Call me in New York... tell 
                         him to kiss my ass...

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                              (seeing his pain)
                         They have no right to treat you like 
                         that. You've given them everything. 
                         For four years, you've protected 
                         this town, the people on this 
                         island...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Fired me!
                              (at Ellen)
                         I'm not a hysterical man. I'm 
                         responsible. I know what I saw...

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         I know you did...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I try. Goddamnit, I tried... Now, 
                         I'm tired... I can't keep fighting 
                         it... I'm too tired... I'm... I'm...

               Brody's slipping under; the beers and the day have finally 
               overcome him. He slumps in Ellen's arms.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         You're drunk is what you are...

               She eases him onto the couch, tucking a comforter over his 
               inert shape.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Take it easy... Easy...

<b>               ANGLE ON THE STAIRWELL
</b>
               Sean comes down the stairs, sleepy, in his pajamas.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Is dad home? I heard something...

               He comes into the darkened den.

<b>               ELLEN AND SEAN
</b>
<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Shhhh. Go back upstairs. Daddy's 
                         sleeping.

               Sean finds the photo, and stares at it idly.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         What's this?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Nothing, sweetheart. Seaweed.

               She takes him by his sleepy hand and leads him out of the 
               room, leaving Brody tucked in on the couch, dead to the world.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. NEWSSTORE - NIGHT
</b>
               This is the Amity teen-ager's hangout -- a newsstand and 
               pinball arcade with a minimal refreshment counter where soft 
               drinks and submarine sandwiches are dispensed. A jukebox is 
               blaring some n.d. rock music. Present are Donnie, Doug, Timmy, 
               Bob, Larry Vaughn Jr., Brooke, Marge, Denise, Jane, Andy, 
               and Mike. The boys are passing around hot-rod van and custom 
               boat magazines; the girls are looking at Silver Screen, Tiger 
               Beat, People, and Time. Andy and Mike are at the counter, 
               splitting a sandwich.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                              (holding a book)
                         That's what I want -- a gaff rig.

<b>                                     TIMMY
</b>                         Gaff rigged? Why not a staysail 
                         schooner? Go anywhere. Look at this -- 
                         the Mayan, an Alden schooner.

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         Hey, Mike -- I saw your dad over at 
                         the town hall.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I know.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                              (innocently)
                         Did he really freak out at the beach?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I don't know.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Hey, it's all bullshit. Anyone want 
                         to play pong for money?

               No one does. There's a bustle at the door, and some couples 
               enter from the movies: Patrick and Lucy, Ed and Tina, Polo 
               and Jackie. There are a lot of ad-lib greetings;

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         How was the show?

<b>                                     ED
</b>                         Yech.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         It was okay.

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         I'd rather go the lighthouse.

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         Who wouldn't.

<b>                                     POLO
</b>                         Anyone want to go the lighthouse?

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Now? At night?

<b>                                     POLO
</b>                         Nah. Tomorrow. Early, spend the day. 
                         My folks left two cases of beer in 
                         the garage.

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         Is it still there?

<b>                                     POLO
</b>                         Nope. Got it in my boat.

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         All-right.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Let's go for it.

               There's a general ad-lib agreement to organize a day's sailing 
               picnic.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         Mike, you going?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Why shouldn't I?

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         I thought you might still be painting 
                         the restrooms at the beach.

               Laughter from the gang.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Anyone want a coke or anything?

               They break up into pairs and trios, some going for the soda 
               fountain, others hanging out by the magazines.

<b>               ANGLE ON JACKIE AND MIKE
</b>
<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         I'd like to go out to the lighthouse 
                         with you.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I'm not sure I can.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         It'll be fun, come on!

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Maybe you and Brooke could come over 
                         to the town beach...

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         No way. Everybody's going sailing. 
                         If you don't want to take me, just 
                         say so.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         That's not it. My dad told me not to 
                         go.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         You do everything your parents tell 
                         you?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         No.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Good. I'll be on the dock at eight.
                              (to the gang)
                         Eight o'clock, everybody!

               They ad lib agreement.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                              (aside to Mike)
                         I really want to to be there.
                              (to the crowd)
                         Who's bringing the wine? And who's 
                         got a quarter for the box?

               Brooke takes Mike aside, as Jackie goes to the jukebox.

               Larry is right there with a quarter, standing next to her as 
               they select a tune.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         She just likes to tease. I think she 
                         really likes you.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Great.

               Some rock music starts, and we:

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. BRODY BEDROOM - DAY
</b>
               Ellen is asleep under the covers, Brody, still in his clothes 
               from the night before, is sprawled on top; obviously he's 
               stumbled upstairs sometime during the night. There's a noise 
               down the hall, from Mike's room. Brody stirs, but doesn't 
               wake up.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. MIKE'S ROOM - DAY
</b>
               Mike is holding a lamp that's almost fallen -- the noise we 
               just heard. He's almost dressed, but not quite satisfied 
               with his image in the mirror. He takes off his clean shirt, 
               and checks a more comfortable, worn shirt. A brief sniff to 
               make sure it's okay for another day, and he puts it on; he 
               tiptoes to the hall, where a noise stops him in his tracks.

<b>               INT. BRODY HALLWAY - DAY
</b>
               Mike is frozen in his part-opened bedroom door. Sean's door 
               opens, and little Sean, also fully dressed, comes sneaking 
               out.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                              (whispering)
                         You're going out.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Yeah.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         You're going sailing.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Maybe.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Take me.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         No.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                              (louder)
                         I want to go with you!

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Quiet!  Shhh!

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                              (even louder)
                         Michael...

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Okay, okay. Close your door.

               Sean does, and happily tiptoes with exaggerated stealth to 
               Mike; the two of them start downstairs.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. BRODY HOUSE
</b>
               Michael and Sean are walking away towards the road into town.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. BRODY UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - DAY
</b>
               Brody emerges from the bathroom, dressed in sweatshirt, and 
               cutoffs: no uniform today. He starts downstairs, stopping 
               only to look into Mike's room. It's empty.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Good morning, America...

               A grin crosses his face -- "My son, the Don Juan..." He goes 
               downstairs.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. BRODY KITCHEN - DAY
</b>
               Brody enters from upstairs. He heats coffee. Ellen enters 
               dressed for work. He pours two cups.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         What're you going to do today?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Turn in the car. Clean my desk, 
                         explain things to our sons, then 
                         maybe get shit-faced and punch your 
                         boss.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         I'll give notice.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Don't rush into it -- we may need 
                         the income.

               She pours the coffee, they drink it for a moment.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Mike left early. Couldn't wait to 
                         make out. Must be a morning man.

               Ellen and Brody sip their coffee quietly for a few moments.

               Mrs. Silvera arrives, carrying groceries.

<b>                                     MRS. SILVERA
</b>                         Morning. Anything special today?

<b>                         ELLEN
</b>                 Sean's not up yet. You 
                 know what he likes, 
                 just some Fruit Loops 
                 and milk. No candy.

<b>                                                       BRODY
</b>                                               The sink upstairs is busted. 
                                               Try some Drano, or a 
                                               plunger, maybe. Or call 
                                               your brother, the plumber, 
                                               what's his name...

<b>                                     MRS. SILVERA
</b>                         Frankie. He's my cousin.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Frankie. Okay. Ask him if he needs 
                         an apprentice.

               Brody and Ellen are at the door.

<b>                                     MRS. SILVERA
</b>                         Have a nice day.

               They leave.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. DOCKSIDE - DAY
</b>
               The Kids are into their boats, fitting out for a day of 
               recreational offshore sailing. Mike and Andy are readying 
               his Tornado, while Sean gets in the way. In the b.g., 
               Hendricks can be seen puttering around on the Amity police 
               boat.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         If you're beached, why are we doing 
                         this? For practice?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Yeah.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Then why are we futzing around the 
                         dock? We can make a few bucks working 
                         at the beach.

               Sean knocks something over, Mike snaps at him.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Look -- if you're going to get in 
                         the way, you can just go home.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         I'm not in the way. Andy, am I in 
                         the way?

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         You're always in the way.

               Marge joins them, scooping Sean up.

<b>                                     MARGE
</b>                         This guy giving you any trouble?

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Put me down!

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Put him down in the water.

<b>                                     MARGE
</b>                              (to Sean)
                         You want to go out in my boat?

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Yeah.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Would you take him?

<b>                                     MARGE
</b>                         Sure.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         You've just made someone very happy.

               Marge and Sean go over to her Lightening. Brooke and Jackie 
               come down the dock, dressed for sailing.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Mike! Are you going out?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Maybe.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         I thought you were grounded.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I can go out if I want to.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         You can?

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         You going to the lighthouse?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Why not?

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         I could give you a dozen good reasons.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                              (to Andy)
                         Shut up.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Okay, okay, don't say I didn't remind 
                         you.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Is there room on your boat for all 
                         of us?

               Mike looks: Andy, Jackie, Brooke, himself... Timmy moves in, 
               sensing the chance of a lifetime.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Well, we're pretty crowded, and I 
                         don't know when we're leaving...

               Timmy makes his move.

<b>                                     TIMMY
</b>                         I've got room.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Great.
                              (to Andy)
                         That's okay -- I'll go with Timmy.

<b>                                     TIMMY
</b>                         You will?

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Sure.

               And she walks towards his boat, looking back for him to 
               follow. He's dumbstruck by his sudden good fortune.

<b>                                     TIMMY
</b>                         Fan-tas-tic!

               He runs to join her, untying mooring lines like crazy; they're 
               together again at last for the first time. Andy is left 
               shuffling with Mike and Jackie.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         I'm ready.

               And she plops down in Mike's boat, ready to be taken. 
               Anywhere.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Come on, you guys.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Well, I don't know...

               Jackie flashes him one of her pouty little smiles. Why break 
               one heart when you can break two? Or more?

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Please come with us?

               Mike is glaring. The message is clear, if unspoken.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         For me...?

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         What the hell. For you...

               Andy joins them.  Mike casts off, while Andy helps, and Jackie 
               sits there, looking cute.

<b>               ANGLE ON LARRY AND BOB
</b>
               watching what's going on.

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         I thought you said she was going 
                         with us?

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Let's just go sailing, okay?

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                              (casting off)
                         Want to talk about it?

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Want to swim home?

               Bob gets the message and shuts up. The Sizzler fills its 
               sails, and points out of the harbor.

<b>               WIDE ON THE HARBOR
</b>
               Lots of day-sailing Kids, a few bigger, adult boats, some 
               working fishermen and sport fishers; a typical recreational 
               boating mix. The Kids are finding the same general direction, 
               pointing out of the harbor.

<b>               QUICK CUTS
</b>
               -- Sails being trimmed.

               --  Brooke and Timmy, staring into each other's eyes as he 
               sets a course straight for the lighthouse.

               --  Larry, lifting a hull, almost losing Bob.

<b>               EXT. HARBOR MOUTH - DAY
</b>
               The Kids' boats, in a loose bunch, slipping out to sea.

<b>               REVERSE - LOOKING OUT TO SEA
</b>
               The dive class boat, isolated near the channel, a group of 
               Kids in wet suits and tanks assembled with three adult 
               instructors: Tom Andrews, Crosby, and Sparky.

<b>               EXT. DIVING BOAT - DAY
</b>
               Andrews and his assistant instructor, Sparky, are addressing 
               the class, when Mike and Andy's "Green Machine" sails by, 
               close.

<b>                                     ANDREWS
</b>                         Hey! Nicholas! You're supposed to be 
                         in class!

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Today I'm staying topside. You dive 
                         for me!

<b>                                     ANDREWS
</b>                         I'm going for lobster.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Great! Find one for me.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         With butter, if they got any...

               Andrews dismisses them with a good-natured wave.

<b>                                     ANDREWS
</b>                         So long, turkies.

               He turns to his class.

<b>                                     ANDREWS
</b>                         Sparky will take you down today. If 
                         everyone's got a buddy, we'll drop.

               The class dutifully lines up and starts going in, while in 
               the b.g. the Kids sailboats head out to sea. Andrews' two 
               partners, Crosby and Sparky, get ready to follow the class 
               over.

<b>                                     CROSBY
</b>                              (to Andrews)
                         Let's get some dinner.

               He goes over, Andrews following. Sparky is with the class, 
               signaling "Down;" they submerge like clumsy seals.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               UNDERWATER
</b>
               The class, paired up, is drifting down; Sparky offering 
               encouragement as they descend. Andrews and Crosby are already 
               disappearing, swimming away with strong kicks.

<b>               FOLLOWING ANDREWS AND CROSBY
</b>
               as they go over the edge of a shelf and drop into darker, 
               deeper waters. Crosby checks his depth, his watch, looks 
               around...

<b>               HIS POINT OF VIEW
</b>
               far above him, the class, going about their business.

               Below him, murk, depth, and suddenly, a big lunker bass.

               Andrews sees it, too.

<b>               ANGLE - ON ANDREWS
</b>
               Assuming Crosby is following, he takes off, following the 
               big lunker. Crosby, hung up in some minor equipment problem, 
               misses seeing him go. The two men are separated. Follow 
               Andrews as he twists and turns after the bass, going deeper, 
               losing him in the rocks, suddenly rounding a boulder, and 
               meeting, almost face-to-face, horror:

<b>               BELOW HIM THE SHARK
</b>
               The Great White Shark, taking the striper in a single gulp, 
               it's looking up at Andrews with one glassy doll's eye; it 
               turns to face him directly, and we see the scar; ugly, red 
               and black, charred flesh from jaw back on the right side, 
               eyes and teeth gleaming like raw bone in the massive, uncaring 
               face.

               Andrews' mouth clamps violently on his mouthpiece, then goes 
               wide as he screams in fear into the water. Finning backwards, 
               he ditches his weights, gulps for air, and yanks the cord on 
               his safety vest. It balloons out, and pulls him up, surging 
               towards the surface. The mouthpiece, useless, falls away 
               from his lips.

               Eyes closed, hose dangling, Andrews hurtles upward, holding 
               his breath in a final, fatal panic, passing a startled Crosby.

<b>               THE DIVERS
</b>
               look over at the rocketing ascent. What's wrong? Sparky 
               signals "up," and they begin to carefully follow him towards 
               the surface. Crosby's already surfacing.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               DECK OF THE DIVING BOAT - DAY
</b>
               Andrews is on his side, bloody froth on his lips. One of the 
               class is clinging to his legs, trying to arrest his 
               convulsions. Sparky is holding his shoulders, trying to 
               administer mouth-to-mouth.

<b>                                     SPARKY
</b>                         Get us in! For Christ's sake, get us 
                         in!

               In his arms, Andrews writhes, pain knotting his limbs.

               Behind them, in the water, the fin surfaces, and casually 
               turns towards... the ocean. The Shark is headed for the sea. 
               And for the now distant Kids in their sailboats, dotting the 
               horizon in their familiar bright colors.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. OCEAN - ED AND TINA'S SANDPIPER - DAY
</b>
               They are alone. In the middle distance, the rest of the Kids' 
               sails can be seen, headed for the lighthouse in the distance. 
               The Sandpiper's sails are luffing, they're making no headway.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         You want to tack, or just leave her 
                         pointed up like this?

<b>                                     ED
</b>                              (snuggling close)
                         Just like this.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         What about sailing?

<b>                                     ED
</b>                         The tide's running. It'll take us to 
                         the light.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         It'll take us to Budapest if you're 
                         not careful.

               Ed is lashing the rudder as they continue to drift with the 
               current.

<b>                                     ED
</b>                         First things first.

               He fumbles in a cooler chest, produces a bottle of wine.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         What about the others?

<b>                                     ED
</b>                         They'll be there when we get there. 
                         Might even have a fire started.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         What're we going to do in the mean 
                         time?

<b>                                     ED
</b>                         I dunno. We'll think of something.

               He pours the wine into the two paper cups.

<b>                                     ED
</b>                         But first, a little juice...

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         And second?

<b>                                     ED
</b>                              (kissing her)
                         Mmmmmm.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                              (resisting)
                         Wait a minute. Promise me something.

<b>                                     ED
</b>                         Anything. Anything.

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         That you'll put down a blanket. I've 
                         got black and blue marks all over my 
                         butt, and my Mom's getting uptight 
                         about them.

<b>                                     ED
</b>                         You got it.

               And he fumbles for a blanket in a locker, thumping and banging 
               gear around as he rummages for it. Tina sips wine contentedly, 
               satisfied to wait.

<b>               UNDERWATER
</b>
               The Sandpiper's hull, alone above us, as the Shark rises 
               with dreadful certainty, attracted by the erratic sounds of 
               Ed's hasty search.

<b>               ANGLE ON TINA - WATCHING THE OCEAN
</b>
               The terrible fin breaks the surface, about 20 yards out, 
               then dips and disappears. Then, impossibly fast, the entire 
               Sandpiper is lifted from underneath by a powerful surge, as 
               the Shark lunges up against it from below, an unseen horror.

               Ed is knocked over the side, into the water.

<b>               ANGLE ON ED
</b>
               as he breaks the surface, shaking the hair out of his eyes, 
               trying to orient himself, finding the boat. He starts to 
               swim for it, Tina extending an arm to help him climb aboard.

<b>               ANGLE OVER THE GUNWALE, TOWARDS ED
</b>
               He has barely taken two strokes when a powerful force takes 
               him from below the surface, rushing him towards us through 
               the water. Tina screams. Before Ed can react to the pain, he 
               is slammed face first into the boat. His jaw breaks, blood 
               smears his nose and lip.

               His hands grab the wooden-cap rail with a death-grip.

<b>               REVERSE
</b>
               Tina is staring down at the water, terror-stricken; Ed's 
               arms and head are f.g., as he locks onto the boat with 
               desperate hands.

<b>               INSERT
</b>
               Ed's hands on the rail, knuckles white, an iron grip. With 
               awful finality, the force pulls down, and the wood shatters 
               and splits away as Ed's hands are pulled down and under by 
               the awful force.

<b>               TINA
</b>
               her mouth working silently, unable to scream, staring down 
               at the blood and froth on the water, swirling in a grim eddy 
               under her, the Sandpiper rocking gently in the diminishing 
               swell.

<b>               EXT. OCEAN - DAY - ESTABLISHING SHOT
</b>
               On the way to the lighthouse, but away from the harbor, the 
               Kids are sailing in fairly close order: The sloops (Polo, 
               Timmy, Marge) heeled well over in the stiff breeze, the faster 
               cats (Mike, Larry, Donny, etc.) skimming around, tacking 
               more often, faster and more maneuverable.

<b>               CLOSE ON PATRICK AND LUCY
</b>
<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         Faster! Faster!

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         Coming about...

               She ducks under the boom, handling the jib sheets with easy 
               familiarity. They come about and scoot off on a new tack.

<b>               CLOSE ON POLO
</b>
               Reading the wind, trimming sail expertly, competent and alone.

<b>                                     POLO
</b>                              (to a near-by boat)
                         Great day! I think the wind's going 
                         to change...

<b>               CLOSE ON TIMMY AND BROOKE
</b>
               He comes about, she slides into him, he holds her to steady 
               her, she snuggles into his arms. True love, at last... He's 
               thrilled.

<b>               CLOSE ON DOUG
</b>
               In his inflatable, poking slowly along. Marge passes him, 
               Sean hooting with glee.

<b>                                     MARGE
</b>                         Coming up.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Slowpoke! Slowpoke! Marge is faster!

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         I'm getting new sails, then watch 
                         out. Just a question of modifying 
                         the rigging!

<b>               ANGLE ON MIKE'S "GREEN MACHINE"
</b>
               Jackie, Mike and Andy, clipping along, Larry Vaughn and Bob 
               in the Sizzler nearby. Mike lifts the hull, Jackie squeals 
               in delight.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Wheee! Faster!

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         How fast is enough?

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         I want to go faster!

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Hang on...

               He trims his sheets, the cat heels more, one hull flying, 
               Andy and Jackie clinging to the trampoline.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE SIZZLER
</b>
               Larry is carefully adjusting his tiller, Bob senses what 
               he's doing.

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         You coming up on him?

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         You bet. Hang on...

               They gybe sharply, running up behind the green cat.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Coming up! Give way!

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Like hell! We're on the starboard 
                         tack!

<b>               THE SIZZLER AND THE "GREEN MACHINE"
</b>
               Running close to each other; very tight two-by-two.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Don't let him pass. Faster!

               Mike and Larry silently fight for clean air, racing. Water 
               splashes over them.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         My hair's getting wet!

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         So's mine.

<b>               CLOSE ON MIKE'S BOAT
</b>
               He veers onto a less dramatic tack, sparing Jackie's hair.

               Larry and Bob speed by, yelling.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         When do we get to the lighthouse?

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Soon, dark eyes, soon.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         The tide's turning.

               Andy reveals a knowledgeable side to his character.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         We're going to be fighting the 
                         current.
                              (he looks up)
                         Wind's backing around a few points, 
                         too.

               Jackie snuggles against Mike.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         I can't wait to get there.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         But of course.

               He goes forward to trim the jib, leaving the lovebirds 
               snuggling astern. They pull away from us, and we:

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. AMITY WATERFRONT STREET - DAY
</b>
               Ellen and Brody are in the jeep; he's driving her to work.

               There's a crowd at dockside, and the town ambulance's now 
               familiar blinking red light. Brody, out of force of habit, 
               wheels the jeep towards the action, nudging through the crowd, 
               which gives way to the official blue-and-white vehicle.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Hey -- it's not your job any more. 
                         I'm going to be late for work.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Just one minute...

               He gets out, and pushes through the crowd, Ellen following.

<b>               DOCKSIDE
</b>
               The dive boat is moored at a clumsy angle next to the Police 
               Boat, where Hendricks has been pulling routine maintenance.

               The Police launch is cluttered with tools and spare parts; 
               some non-essential piece of gear is stripped and laid out on 
               the deck. Hendricks is on the dive boat, kneeling next to 
               Andrews.

<b>               ABOARD THE DIVE BOAT
</b>
               Andrews is shaking, bloody froth on his lips and chest. The 
               shaken divers are huddled together, an ambulance attendant 
               is wheeling a gurney into position. Crosby and Sparky are 
               stunned.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         What the hell happened?

<b>                                     SPARKY
</b>                         Embolism. Air bubbles in his blood. 
                         Came up too damn fast. Held his 
                         goddamn breath!

               He is near collapse himself.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Easy...

<b>                                     CROSBY
</b>                         He panicked! Something scared him!

               An Ambulance Attendant is putting a blanket around Sparky.

<b>                                     ATTENDANT
</b>                         It's okay. We're taking care of him.

               The other attendant holds something out to Brody. Brody 
               examines it; a scuba mouthpiece, bitten in two, useless.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         How'd this happen?

<b>                                     SPARKY
</b>                         Bite reflex, like a spasm.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         When?

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Right after, the Kids went out?

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         What Kids? Who went out?

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         All of them. Mike, Junior Vaughn, 
                         Brookie Peters, Pat, Lucy -- all 
                         that whole gang.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Mike? Our Mike?

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Yep. Looked like they were headed to 
                         the lighthouse.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         How long ago?

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         About an hour, maybe two.
                              (thinking)
                         Let's see -- I came on about eight...

               Brody is gone, pushing through the crowd.

<b>               THE POLICE BOAT
</b>
               Brody is casting off lines. Ellen is on the dock, watching 
               him.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         What're you doing?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Going out.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Uh, Chief -- look. You're not Chief 
                         any more.

               Brody keeps working, making ready for sea.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         I can't let you take her out.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         You can't stop me.

               Ellen is climbing aboard, taking off her heels.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Mrs. Brody, look -- if he can't go, 
                         then you can't go. Neither of you 
                         can go.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         I'm going.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Mike's out there.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         But I signed for the boat. You're 
                         not authorized any more.

               Brody starts the engines with a roar, and slams it into 
               reverse. The boat starts out of the slip, then lunges to a 
               halt, shuddering on its still-fastened bow mooring line.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Untie that rope.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Please. It's my job.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         I'll do it.

               And she moves purposefully towards the boat cleat.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Mrs. Brody, please...

               Brody is shifting gears, the boat is crabbing sideways as he 
               puts the helm hard over. It bumps the dock, hard.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         You're too close. Back off.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Goddamnit, Hendricks, untie the rope 
                         there.

               Hendricks goes to the bow, jumps aboard and frees the bow 
               line. The boat slips into reverse, the water boiling as Brody 
               guns it away from the dock.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Let me. Please.

               He takes the wheel, eases off on the rudder, and comes about, 
               pointing the launch out to sea.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Hurry, please.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         What the hell, they can't fire both 
                         of us -- someone's got to be in 
                         charge, right? Which way are we going?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Find the Kids. The lighthouse -- you 
                         said something about the lighthouse. 
                         Get us there.

<b>               WIDE ON THE HARBOR
</b>
               The Amity Police Boat, Brody, Ellen and Hendricks aboard, is 
               headed under full power out to sea. Hendricks is pumping the 
               horn, warning boats out of the way, ignoring the rules of 
               the road; as small boats scatter out of the way, we can see 
               the ambulance, red light flashing, pushing out slowly through 
               the crowd at dockside.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               ABOARD THE AMITY POLICE BOAT - DAY
</b>
               As they clear the harbor mouth, Brody is on the radio, Ellen 
               is crouching in the shelter of the deckhouse, Hendricks is 
               steering.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Amity Launch to Harbor Patrol, over.

<b>                                     HARBOR PATROL (V.O.)
</b>                              (filtered)
                         Harbor Patrol. Is that you, Brody?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Affirmative. Can you get your chopper 
                         airborne?

<b>                                     PATROL VOICE
</b>                         10-4, in a few minutes. He's down 
                         checking a buoy in the Bay Channel.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Get him the hell over to Amity Point, 
                         the old lighthouse. Right now.

<b>                                     PATROL VOICE
</b>                         What for?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         There's a bunch of Kids day-sailing 
                         that way. Turn them back to port.

<b>                                     PATROL VOICE
</b>                         That's it?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         That's it. Just do it, all right?

<b>                                     PATROL VOICE
</b>                         10-4, soon as I can raise him.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         If they're not at the light, look 
                         for them. I don't want them out there. 
                         Get them back to port!

<b>                                     PATROL VOICE
</b>                              (exasperated)
                         Affirmative, affirmative. Turn the 
                         Kids day-sailing back to port. I 
                         heard you. Patrol out.

               As Brody's eyes sweep the horizon anxiously, Hendricks pours 
               it on, and the police boat surges forward.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. OCEAN - DAY - KIDS SAILING
</b>
               Donnie and Denise and Susie are sailing close to each other.

<b>                                     DONNIE
</b>                         Hungry?

<b>                                     DENISE
</b>                         Starving. Let's go eat now.

<b>                                     DONNIE
</b>                              (shouting to Susie)
                         We're going in to eat!

               She nods agreement, their boats veer off from the rest and 
               head towards the lighthouse.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               ANGLE ON THE SIZZLER
</b>
               as it sails close to the Green Machine.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Hey! Brody! Want to race?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                              (confident)
                         Sure.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         How about a side bet to make it 
                         interesting?

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         That's fun! Let's race for something!

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Name it.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Loser sails home alone.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                              (aside to Mike)
                         You're betting what you already got.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I don't care.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         I love it.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Sure you do -- you win either way.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                              (simply)
                         I'm supposed to.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         It's a bet. Once around the marker 
                         buoy?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         That's the pin -- the buoy.

               Larry is confident -- he's got the air, but Mike suddenly 
               gybes without warning, snapping onto a new fast tack, 
               downwind. Larry and Bob are caught by surprise, and lose 
               precious moments as they fumble with their sails.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                              (pulling away)
                         Turkeys! Eat wind!

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Yee-hah!

               He pounds with glee on the canvas trampoline as their boat 
               moves ahead, a drumming sound.

<b>               UNDERWATER
</b>
               The twin hulls of a catamaran's hull, the muffled, eerie 
               sound of drumming, as the water carries the tempting "thud-
               thud-thud" sound down to the deep.

<b>               ANGLE ON DOUG IN HIS INFLATABLE
</b>
               falling behind as the boats change course for the marker 
               buoy, following Larry and Mike's lead.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Hey! Wait for the H.M.S. Invincible!

               Brooke and Timmy sail by him, laughing; Polo with them.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Can't -- we're watching a race!

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Since when? Who's racing?

<b>                                     TIMMY
</b>                         Larry and Mike!

<b>               PATRICK AND LUCY
</b>
               Pat and Lucy are trimming sail, moving faster.

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         Mike and Larry are racing! Loser 
                         goes home alone!

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         If we beat them, they can both go 
                         home stag! Single-O! Alone! Jackie 
                         can come back in this boat!

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         What about me?

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         Uh. Well. Maybe you could give Polo 
                         a hand going in...

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                              (snapping him with a 
                              rope)
                         Your ass I will. Besides, the wind's 
                         turning with the tide. Sailing back 
                         is going to be a bitch.

<b>               QUICK CUTS - SAILBOAT RACING MONTAGE
</b>
               --  Ropes and sails rattling through blocks.

               --  Sails snapping taut, filling with wind.

               --  Catamarans heeled over, racers hanging over the water, 
               dangerously suspended in trapeze harnesses.

               --  Skippers' faces, concentrating on boat handling.

<b>               AERIAL VIEW - SAILBOATS
</b>
               It's the chopper's point of view, as the Harbor Patrol copter 
               from the Cape flies towards the Kids, following Brody's 
               previous instructions. He sees the sailboats and fly that 
               way.

<b>                                     PILOT
</b>                              (filtered, into his 
                              mike)
                         Air Patrol to Base. I have visual 
                         contact on the Kids. Going down to 
                         use the loud hailer...

<b>               LOOKING UP AT THE APPROACHING COPTER
</b>
               It approaches the sailboats, losing altitude fast, rotor 
               blades chuffing up a storm.

               The Pilot has his microphone to his lips, and his voice is 
               blaring down at them.

<b>                                     PILOT (V.O.)
</b>                         This is the Harbor Patrol. Return to 
                         port immediately. Return -- to -- 
                         port -- immediately.

<b>               THE BOATS
</b>
               The Kids look at each other, some coming about awkwardly, 
               others luffing, wondering what this is all about.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                              (to Mike)
                         Your dad must be really pissed.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         We better go back in.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         It's not going to be easy.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         What's wrong?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         We're fighting wind and current. I 
                         though we'd be out longer, catch the 
                         incoming tide.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Putz -- that won't be for hours.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I was counting on hours.

<b>                                     CHOPPER (V.O.)
</b>                         Return -- to -- port.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         We're trying, we're trying.

               He waves acknowledgement, and puts about. The others take 
               their cue from him, and set a rough course back, but without 
               much success.

<b>               PATRICK AND LUCY
</b>
<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         Heading back?

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         Might as well.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE THREE SLOOPS
</b>
               Polo, Timmy and Brooke, Marge and Sean. They see the faster 
               catamarans come about and try to beat back.

<b>                                     POLO
</b>                         They're turning around.

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         Coming about, then.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Are we going back?

<b>                                     MARGE
</b>                         Going to try. Lighthouse, everybody...

               She puts about, the three of them start back towards the 
               lighthouse, not making much headway. Doug's inflatable is 
               the slowest, and he is now, by virtue of his position, at 
               the head of the line beating back towards the island.

<b>               DOUG'S BOAT
</b>
               The others in the b.g.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Make way for the Carrier Enterprise!

<b>               INSERT - A WEAK PATCH IN THE RUBBER
</b>
               It whistles and visibly leaks under the strain.

<b>               DOUG
</b>
               looking down in dismay.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Make that the Titanic.

               He rigs a little foot pump, and begins thumping away, trying 
               to breath air back into the raft.

<b>               INT. CHOPPER - LOOKING DOWN AT THE SAILBOATS
</b>
<b>                                     PILOT
</b>                         Patrol One to Base. Looks like they're 
                         turning back.

<b>                                     CONTROL
</b>                         All right, Patrol. Go back to work. 
                         You've wasted enough time.

<b>               UNDERWATER
</b>
               Looking up at the scattered hulls of the sailboats, the 
               turbulence from the low-flying chopper making a vast circular 
               pattern of irregular vibrations.

<b>               LOOKING UP AT THE CHOPPER
</b>
               It wheels around, and heads back towards land.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               ABOARD THE AMITY POLICE BOAT - DAY
</b>
               Rushing through the seas under full power. About three hundred 
               yards ahead, a small, seemingly empty sailboat; Ed and Tina's 
               Sandpiper. Further off, a day-sailing power cruiser, sport 
               fishing.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Michael?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         It's not his boat.

               Hendricks maneuvers closer, slowing the engine, reversing in 
               time to bring them alongside with a gentle bump. Ellen watches 
               apprehensively as Brody drops into the little boat.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Be careful...

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Anything?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (on the Sandpiper)
                         Nope...
                              (he sees something)
                         Hold on...

               Brody moves around on the deck of the Sandpiper, until he 
               discovers Tina, cowering in shock; a sudden revealing of a 
               terrorized victim.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Tina!

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                              (a moan)
                         N-o-o-o-o-o-o...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         It's okay, it's okay. What's the 
                         matter? Tina? Honey? Hey --

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         No! It's still there!

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         What is it? What's there?

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         It's still there!

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (to Hendricks and 
                              Ellen)
                         I need a hand here...

               Hendricks has gotten a blanket, and he steps over, putting 
               it over the shivering girl's shoulders. Ellen comforts the 
               girl.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Tina, baby... what is it?

<b>                                     TINA
</b>                         Sh... Sh... Shark...

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY - FOLLOWING HIM AS HE REACTS
</b>
<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I knew it. I goddamn well told them.

               He moves abruptly, stepping up onto the police launch, 
               snapping on the radio, leaving Hendricks, Ellen and Tina on 
               the sailboat moored alongside.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Amity Launch to Harbor Patrol.

<b>                                     PATROL COMMANDER (V.O.)
</b>                              (filter)
                         This is Cape Patrol -- what is it, 
                         Brody? I heard you weren't chief 
                         anymore.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Skip that. What about those kids out 
                         sailing?

<b>                                     COMMANDER (V.O.)
</b>                         It's all okay -- Colby got to them. 
                         They were turning back when he left 
                         'em.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         He left them?

<b>                                     COMMANDER (V.O.)
</b>                         Sure. He's got work to do in Bay 
                         Channel.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Get him the hell back there! We got 
                         possible fatalities! Brody out...

               His eyes wild, Brody looks over at the Sandpiper, then scans 
               the nearby waters with sudden tension.

<b>               BRODY'S POINT OF VIEW
</b>
               Ellen and Hendricks comforting Tina on the Sandpiper. Nearby, 
               a big cabin cruiser casually trolling by. Brody pulls the 
               police boat's air horn, the cruiser's passengers look over, 
               Hendricks and Ellen jump at the unexpected blast.

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY
</b>
<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I'm going out there.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         Hey -- you can't do that.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         What is it? What's the matter?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Mike's out there.

               Brody starts the launch's motor, throwing clear the mooring 
               line that ties the two boats together.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (to Hendricks)
                         Get her in. Get them both in.

<b>                         ELLEN
</b>                 Martin, please!

<b>                                                       HENDRICKS
</b>                                               Chief, be sensible...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Where are they?

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                         About 10 degrees off your starboard 
                         bow, take a heading leeward of Sand 
                         Island, and lay her north by 
                         northeast...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Never mind that shit. Just point.

               Hendricks complies.

<b>                                     HENDRICKS
</b>                              (pointing)
                         See where Cable Junction is? Look to 
                         the left. The lighthouse. That's it.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Got it.

               And he kicks the engine into gear, moving the launch away 
               and out toward the sea.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         Come back! Martin!

               He guns the engine as soon as he's clear. Hendricks gives 
               his jacket to a suddenly chilled Ellen, and hails the cabin 
               cruiser, already changing course to pick them up, sounding 
               its horn.

               Ellen stares after the receding boat.

<b>                                     ELLEN
</b>                         My purse is on that boat.

<b>                                                                   CUT TO: 
</b>
<b>               EXT. OCEAN - DAY - THE KID'S SAILBOATS
</b>
               They are trying to beat back towards the lighthouse, fighting 
               wind and tide. Only Doug's inflatable, with its clumsy little 
               motor, is making any headway.

<b>               ANGLE ON DOUG
</b>
               playing at being Charles Laughton.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Mr. Christian! Mr. Christian! Pump 
                         up this boat! And shave that silly 
                         moustache!

               Pumping, steering, he's floundering along.

<b>               UNDERWATER - MOVING TOWARDS THE SURFACE
</b>
               The Shark has fixated on something -- one outlying shape, 
               the easily identifiable outline of Doug's inflatable, thumping 
               and putting. It homes in on the sound.

<b>               ANGLE ON DOUG AND THE KIDS
</b>
               The other kids exchange banter with Doug in his raft, as he 
               clowns for their benefit.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         England expects every man to do his 
                         duty... You may fire when ready, 
                         Gridley... Damn the torpedoes, full 
                         speed ahead...

               Despite his pumping, the bulging patch bursts with a loud 
               bang.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Oh, shit.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Someone pop your balloon?

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         No problem, no problem.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Want a lifesaver?

<b>                                     MARGE
</b>                         How about a skyhook?

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         You sail your boat, I'll sail mine.

               A fin rises partially, almost invisible to most of the kids, 
               but Mike notices it, believing it to be a porpoise.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Hey, Fetterman -- You got company.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Company? The place is a mess...

               Before anyone can react, the shape rises behind Doug, striking 
               his raft a terrible blow.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Whoops.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               THE OTHERS, WATCHING
</b>
               Not making any headway themselves, they casually watch the 
               class clown, wondering what he's up to this time.

<b>               DOUG'S BOAT
</b>
               a distance from the rest. It shakes, then blows up as big 
               teeth grip it from below. Doug goes flying into the drink.

               The Shark has the inflatable in his teeth, and is shaking it 
               from side to side. Doug's eyes bug out as he sees what's 
               going on. He begins treading water, backing away as fast as 
               he can, waving his arm in the air frantically -- "pick me 
               up, quick..."

<b>               MIKE'S BOAT
</b>
<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Doug's down!

               He sails to where Doug is being carried along by the current.

               The inflatable is a mess -- shredded rubber and dead engine; 
               the Shark didn't like it.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Doug! This way!

               Doug carefully -- oh, so carefully -- strokes over to where 
               Mike and Andy can pull him abroad. Some of the others sail 
               closer to get a look.

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         What was that about?

<b>                                     MARGE
</b>                         You okay?

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         What was that?

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         So much for the rubber duck.

<b>               THE GROUP, DRIFTING TOGETHER
</b>
               This incident hasn't yet touched them -- no one actually saw 
               what it was, except Doug, who's never been serious about 
               anything. Until now.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         A shark ate my boat.

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         Come on.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         I'm telling you, a goddamn shark ate 
                         my goddamn boat!

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         If he liked your boat, I got some 
                         sneakers he'll love.

               There's nervous laughter from all around as they examine the 
               remains of Doug's inflatable. Some of those jagged rents 
               could be made by teeth...

<b>                                     KIDS
</b>                              (ad lib)
                         ...Jeez -- what did that?... A 
                         porpoise, maybe...Nah, killer whale... 
                         I think he snagged it... I hate to 
                         pop his balloon... (Etc.)

<b>               ANGLE ON MIKE'S BOAT
</b>
               Doug's inflatable is draped over the tip of one hull, forward.

               Without warning, the Shark hits. Screams, terror, confusion.

               Mike, Andy, Jackie into the water.

<b>               CLOSE ON MIKE
</b>
               His head bangs on a metal fitting as the boat turns over.

<b>               ON THE GROUP
</b>
               Patrick and Lucy ram into Timmy's boat, locking into it, 
               knocking Timmy into the water as Brooke screams.

<b>               CONFUSION
</b>
               As the following events take place:

               --  Larry's red cat rams and locks onto Mike's Tornado.

               --  Marge's boat capsizes, putting Sean and Marge into the 
               drink.

               --  Marge scrambles up on the over-turned hull, pulling Sean 
               up with her, just in time.

               --  Polo, under full sail, scoops Mike out of the water before 
               the Shark can get to him.

               --  The Shark dips out of sight.

<b>               SURFACE, WIDE OVER THE STERN OF POLO'S BOAT
</b>
               showing the results of the turmoil:

<b>               ANGLE ON THE SURVIVORS
</b>
               As they make ineffectual, frightened moves towards grouping 
               together, Andy is the first to gain any composure.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Raft up! Raft 'em up!

               He reaches towards a drifting line, and pulls Timmy's 
               Doughdish towards them, tying it off as it comes close.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Tie off to your strongest point.

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         Anyone need an extra line?

               Polo has Mike and Timmy aboard his boat.  Timmy is looking 
               up from examining Mike's dazed body.

<b>                                     TIMMY
</b>                         Mike's bleeding!

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Can you sail?

<b>                                     POLO
</b>                              (testing his rudder)
                         Yeah! We'll take him in!

               He starts to make sail back towards the lighthouse, on a 
               severe, but manageable tack. Polo, Timmy, and the injured 
               Mike sail towards safety, leaving the others behind.

               Tackle the job at hand, concentrating on survival. Jackie is 
               strangely quiet; things are out of control...

<b>                                                                   CUT TO: 
</b>
<b>               CLOSE ON A NAUTICAL CHART - DAY
</b>
               clearly marked: Amity Island, Amity Lighthouse, Cable 
               Junction. Brody's nervous finger traces an approximation of 
               his course. It fumbles, pauses, stops.

<b>               ABOARD THE POLICE BOAT - DAY
</b>
               Brody, looking up from his chart, scans the ocean. Ahead is 
               the Lighthouse, his immediate destination. Out of sight to 
               the right, Cable Junction, and beyond that, 2500 miles of 
               cold Atlantic. Brody looks up from his chart, and grabs the 
               radio.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                              (on radio)
                         Amity Launch to Patrol Air Unit One. 
                         Harbor Air, where are you?

<b>                                     CHOPPER PILOT (V.O.)
</b>                              (filter)
                         This is Air One. That you, Brody?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         It's me. Any fix on those Kids?

<b>                                     PILOT (V.O.)
</b>                         Negative. I'm still down.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         For Christ's sake, get going! I'm 
                         all alone out here!

<b>                                     PILOT (V.O.)
</b>                         Brody, I got to switch frequencies, 
                         call my boss. We'll meet you over by 
                         Francis Shoal. Harbor Air out...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Where the hell is Francis Shoal?

               Static. No answer. Brody realizes something

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I'm all alone out here.

<b>                                     RUNBY
</b>                         The Amity Police Boat, under full 
                         power, surging through the heavy 
                         swell, Brody very much alone at the 
                         helm.

<b>               EXT. OCEAN, NEAR THE LIGHTHOUSE - DAY
</b>
               We can see Brody's boat approaching. It slows as it nears 
               the island.

<b>               CLOSE ON BRODY
</b>
               staring, perplexed. Which way?

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Shit.

               He puts the wheel over, slewing the boat around. To the left --  
               the wrong way.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE BOAT, LIGHTHOUSE IN B.G.
</b>
               It barrels off to the left.

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               THE RAFTED BOATS
</b>
               floating in the current, drifting away from the lighthouse, 
               towards the open sea. Floating on the wreckage and tangled 
               boats are:  Doug, Andy, Jackie, Patrick, Lucy, Larry, Bob, 
               Brooke, Marge, and Sean.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Anyone know what time it is?

<b>                                     DOUG
</b><b>                         3:30.
</b>
<b>                                     MARGE
</b>                         Damn!

               Larry, Bob, Patrick, and Lucy (the practiced sailors) ad lib 
               equal dissatisfaction.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         What's wrong?

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Tide doesn't turn for three hours.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Low tide at Cable Junction is 7:46 
                         p.m.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         What'd you do? Memorize the tide 
                         tables?

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         I can't help it, it sticks in my 
                         mind.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                              (making light of it)
                         Anyone want to play charades?

               No one does.

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         As long as we're drifting, might as 
                         well go with the flow.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Not funny.

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         Three knot current?

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         At least. And an offshore wind.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         What's after Cable Junction?

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         The Atlantic. Then Ireland.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         Can't we stop?

               Silence from the group.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         They're probably looking for us.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         What about the fish?

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Maybe it's gone.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         They tend to follow moving things. 
                         Maybe it's following Polo and Timmy.

               They consider this.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         So all we have to do is land at Cable 
                         Junction and wait.

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         First we got to get there.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         How're we going to do that floating 
                         on this garbage...?

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         Anyone got another set of sails?

               The Kids scramble to rig whatever canvas is available.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Is that big thing still out there?

<b>                                     MARGE
</b>                         Shhhh.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               HELICOPTER (AERIAL) FLY-BY
</b>
               A panorama of open ocean; a quick fly-by to orient us: First, 
               Cable Junction, then, a mile or so ahead, the raft.

<b>               THE RAFT
</b>
               More sail, some improvised rigging, Patrick and Lucy trimming 
               what there is, trying to steer the clumsy contraption. From 
               afar, the distant sound of an approaching chopper.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Hey!

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                              (waving)
                         Over here!

               The Kids react with enthusiasm to the arrival of the rescue 
               chopper.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Don't everyone jump around!

               But they ignore him. The copter is descending.

<b>               INT. COPTER - DAY
</b>
               A one-man light spotter; the space next to the pilot cluttered 
               with tools and floats, lashed in place. Below, seen through 
               the plastic bubble, the raft growing larger as the chopper 
               sets down.

<b>                                     PILOT
</b>                         Air One to Base. I have a positive 
                         location on that sailing party. 
                         Disabled and adrift...
                              (he checks chart on 
                              his knee board)
                         ...about 3/4 miles west of Cable 
                         Junction, wind and current carrying 
                         them just about due east. I count 
                         ten juveniles.

<b>               THE RAFT
</b>
               The helicopter is creating a lot of turbulence as it sets 
               down, a huge circular pattern of prop-wash on the surface as 
               the rotors slow to a halt. The Kids are waving and jubilant.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE COPTER
</b>
               As the Pilot unbuckles, opens the door, and steps out on one 
               pontoon; he speaks through a bullhorn.

<b>                                     PILOT
</b>                         Everyone okay? Any injuries?

               The Kids ad-lib in the affirmative.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Can you put us on Cable Junction?

<b>                                     PILOT
</b>                         I got no room for passengers.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         How about a tow? Can you rig that?

               The Pilot nods. Larry heaves a line to him, the Pilot catches 
               it and makes it fast to a convenient tie-off on the 
               undercarriage.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         As soon as you get us on the island, 
                         you got to call in. My dad's the 
                         mayor...

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                              (interrupting)
                         There's a shark...

               The other Kids all chime in, adding their ad-lib shouts 
               describing what happened, calling for help, etc. It's all a 
               noisy jumble, the Pilot ignores it, trying to do his job.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE RAFT
</b>
               The Kids all shouting at once; Jackie is screaming.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         You have to take us off! You have 
                         to! Why don't you take us!

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                              (calming her)
                         It's an observation spotter, he 
                         doesn't have the room...

<b>               ANGLE ON THE PILOT
</b>
               He finishes tying off, and yells through his bullhorn at the 
               Kids.

<b>                                     PILOT
</b>                         Listen. I'm going to give you an 
                         assist to get you on Cable Junction. 
                         Then I'll call in, and get the Coast 
                         Guard to send a cutter. Hang on to 
                         something.

               He climbs into his bubble, shuts the door, gives the Kids a 
               "thumbs up," and starts the engine.

<b>               QUICK CUTS - RAFT AND CHOPPER
</b>
               Engine turning over.

               A line tied off to one of the ringbolts on an overturned 
               hull; it pulls taut out of the water.

<b>               INT. CHOPPER, THE PILOT INTENT ON HIS JOB.
</b>
               The raft, Kids watching in fascination and anticipation.

               The whole operation, getting under way.

<b>               UNDERWATER
</b>
               looking up at pontoons, wreckage, wind turbulence on the 
               surface, the heavy "thud-thud-thud" of chopper blades.

<b>               WIDE ON THE RAFT AND CHOPPER
</b>
               In the f.g., the fin rises, and starts for the scene.

               Follow it.

<b>               CLOSE ON THE CHOPPER
</b>
               as it starts to lift, inexplicably. The Pilot reacts as;

<b>               THE SHARK
</b>
               attacks one of the pontoons, biting down on it, clamping 
               great scarred jaws onto the bulbous floats.

<b>               THE RAFT
</b>
               Kids screaming.

<b>               QUICK CUTS
</b>
               --  Rotor blade spinning wildly.

               --  Pilot's hands jerked on the delicate controls.

               --  Med. shot, copter shaking.

               --  Closeup engine and gas tanks, rotor head spinning.

               --  Med. closeup Pilot in buffeting cockpit.

<b>               RAFT AND COPTER
</b>
               The Kids watch, horror-stricken, as the giant Shark hangs on 
               the roaring copter; in the b.g., Cable Junction is looming 
               closer. The copter tilts dangerously, the Shark bites deeper, 
               harder.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE COPTER
</b>
               as it tilts. Then, the unspeakable -- the blades touch the 
               water and explode. Chunks of murderous steel break off the 
               shattered blades and whistle through the air like projectiles.

<b>               THE KIDS
</b>
               reacting, ducking in terror. Huge chunks of disintegrating 
               rotors are flying all around. Masts and sails left standing 
               before are chopped into a deadly salad. Screams.

<b>               LOW IN THE WATER
</b>
               as blades skip and crash, the bubble of the overturned copter, 
               Pilot trapped inside, sinks into the sea.

<b>               THE COPTER COCKPIT - UNDERWATER
</b>
               Pilot struggling with his safety harness, trying to hit 
               switches, working on instinct. Some air in the bubble, but 
               water too, and sparks as electrical connections short out 
               and burn.

               Then, the Shark, powering out of the murk.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE PILOT - UNDERWATER
</b>
               as grim death batters at his fragile bubble. Screaming.

               The bubble cracks. Water floods, teeth snap at the slippery 
               plastic, the Pilot fumbles for oxygen as the Shark veers off 
               into the murk.

<b>               ON THE SURFACE - THE RAFT
</b>
               The Kids, reacting as the broken copter sinks beneath the 
               waves. Calm for a moment, then:

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Look out!

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                              (screams)
                         No-o-o-o!

               The Shark reappears, and batters at the raft.

<b>               SHARK ATTACK
</b>
               The raft shudders, and begins to break up under the pounding.

               The Kids cling for their lives to masts and wreckage.

               Marge's overturned hull is struck a fierce blow from beneath.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Help!

               He and Marge topple into the water.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Don't struggle!

               Sean is bobbing in his life-vest, Marge strokes to be near 
               him.

<b>               ANGLE ON MARGE AND SEAN
</b>
               in the water, swimming for the apparent safety of the raft.

               Then, the fin, and the massive bulk of the killer, heaving 
               up through the waves.

<b>                                     MARGE
</b>                         Sean!

               She heaves him up out of the water, hurling him with 
               desperation towards the safety of the floating hull.

<b>               ANGLE ON SEAN
</b>
               screaming, hands and feet scrabbling like a monkey as he 
               struggles for a grip on the slippery surface. Behind him, 
               Marge helping as much as she can from the water. Then, behind 
               her;

<b>               THE SHARK
</b>
               rising like grey doom, then dropping out of sight. Marge is 
               gone.

<b>               UNDERWATER
</b>
               Marge ducking under the bulk of the Shark, shoving off with 
               panicky reserves of strength, swimming away underwater, while 
               the Shark takes a massive crunching bite out of a submerged 
               hull.

               Follow Marge as she swims.

<b>               COPTER WRECKAGE
</b>
               Huddled in the cracked plastic bubble, the Pilot is sucking 
               air from his oxygen tank. He sees Marge, and slips out of 
               his bubble, headed for her.

<b>               MARGE
</b>
               As the Pilot overtakes her -- a moment of horror, as she 
               thinks the Shark has found her, then relief, as the Pilot 
               motions to the bubble, and indicates "Air." She follows him.

<b>               MARGE AND THE PILOT
</b>
               Scuttling like two crabs into the shelter of the broken 
               chopper, buddy breathing as he passes her the oxygen tube.

               The chopper tilts, and moves, breaking up on the bottom as 
               currents move it. They struggle silently.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE CHOPPER
</b>
               as it slips across the bottom, the current pulling it, broken 
               parts breaking off in slow motion, dirty swirls of oil and 
               hydraulic fluid clouding the water.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               ON THE SURFACE - THE RAFT
</b>
               A parallel struggle for survival, as the current separates 
               Sean from the other Kids; Marge is gone, the little boy is 
               clinging alone to the free-floating Lightening.

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         Sean! Sean!

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Don't move!

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Andy! Please help! Help!

<b>               ON THE SURFACE - A DISTANCE AWAY
</b>
               Copter wreckage is bubbling up from underneath, like a 
               submarine destroyed by depth charges; an oil slick, pieces 
               of broken blade, a seat cushion, then, suddenly, the Pilot, 
               and Marge, almost choked to death, their air run out. They 
               cling to a section of pontoon, panting, looking around with 
               oxygen-starved eyes.

               They are alone on the ocean; a half-mile away, the distant 
               sails of the broken raft, and the low-lying shape of Cable 
               Junction. Safe, for now...

<b>                                                                   CUT TO: 
</b>
<b>               BRODY - ALONE IN THE POLICE BOAT - DAY
</b>
               He throttles down, and the boat slumps in the water. He looks 
               around, sees nothing, in all directions. He hits his radio.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Harbor Air, this is Brody. Air One, 
                         come in.

               Static, no answer. He tries a couple of times, checking the 
               knobs and dials to make sure the unit's working.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Harbor Air, do you read? Over?

<b>                                     PATROL VOICE
</b>                         Brody? This is Patrol Base.

               The familiar voice is tinged with annoyance. He's had a long 
               shift, and nothing's going right.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Where the hell is Air One?

<b>                                     PATROL VOICE
</b>                         That's what I'd like to know. Lost 
                         transmission at Cable Junction.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Did he raise the Kids?

<b>                                     PATROL VOICE
</b>                         Last transmission said ten juveniles.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Yeah? Then what?

<b>                                     PATROL VOICE
</b>                         Then nothing. If you see him, tell 
                         him to switch to an operational 
                         frequency, or give me a status report 
                         yourself.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Did you say Cable Junction?

<b>                                     PATROL VOICE
</b>                         That's what he said.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         When?

<b>                                     PATROL VOICE
</b>                         1530 hours. Might still be there. 
                         Base out.

               Brody revs up, and powers out, headed for Cable Junction.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. OCEAN - DAY - THE RAFT
</b>
               Sean is crying on his isolated perch, clinging to the upturned 
               keel. The other Kids are throwing a rope, trying to get him 
               back. Patrick heaves, and misses.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Sean! Catch the rope!

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         The rope! The rope!

               The others shoot fearful glances at the waters.

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         He's got to help or it won't work.

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         Sean, baby, please...

               Sean is ignoring the efforts to rescue him, paralyzed by 
               fear, he shivers alone. Jackie is near catatonia herself, 
               Brooke and Doug trying to soothe her.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         It killed her. It ate her.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Shh. Shhh...

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         It's okay, it's okay...

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Sean! Listen! Listen to me, Sean.

               The kid looks up dully.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Goddamn it, Sean, you listen to me 
                         or I will kick your ass, do you hear 
                         me?

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         Listen to Andy, Sean.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         We're throwing a rope and you better 
                         catch it, hear?

               Sean nods. The other Kids are encouraged. The rope is thrown -- 
               it misses.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                              (to Bob)
                         Keep an eye out for that fish.

               Bob climbs to a vantage point, watching.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Throw it.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Sean! Catch it!

               Another miss. In his haste to help, Larry overreaches to 
               fish the trailing rope out of the water, and falls headlong 
               into the sea. Shrieks of fright from the others.

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         Larry!

               He scrambles out, hardly wet, that's how fast he's moving.

               Finally -- Patrick takes the crucial throw, and the rope 
               practically knocks Sean off his perch, but he clutches and 
               holds it. As Andy carefully calls instructions, Sean secures 
               the rope and the others carefully, carefully begin to pull 
               him in.

<b>               ANGLE - ON SEAN
</b>
               as they pull. The slippery rope is undoing itself.

<b>               THE RAFT
</b>
               With the kids reaching out hands, sticks, rope, anything to 
               pull the little one to safety. The ocean swells rise and 
               fall with hidden menace.

<b>               QUICK CUTS
</b>
               --  Hands gripping rope.

               --  The knot, pulling apart.

               --  Anguished faces, concentrating, as Patrick, Lucy, Larry, 
               and Andy struggle to bring him in.

<b>               ANDY AND SEAN
</b>
               Success. He's pulled to safety. They lash his little hull as 
               tight as they can to the rest of the floating wreckage.

               Bob sees something.

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         Cable Junction's ahead!

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         Can we make it?

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         I don't know.

<b>               BOB'S POINT OF VIEW
</b>
               looking over the wreckage to Cable Junction, now much closer.

               Beyond it, miles of empty Atlantic. It's off to one side, 
               and unless they can slow down or alter course, they will 
               miss it.

<b>               THE RAFT
</b>
<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                              (to Jackie)
                         You okay?

               She's not. Shaking, silent, eyes glazed.

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                              (alone)
                         Dear Jesus, Holy Mary, Mother of 
                         God, help us, please...
                              (her lips move 
                              inaudibly)

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                              (to Doug)
                         Keep her warm. 
                              (to Jackie)
                         Jackie? Baby?

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         Can someone help me rig a jury rudder?  
                         We might steer this...

               Andy joins him, and they try to make a sweep or a rudder out 
               of whatever wreckage they can use.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         By 7:46, when the tide turns around, 
                         we'll be twenty miles out. More, 
                         with this wind.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Shut up.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         I can't stop thinking!

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                              (praying aloud)
                         God, please help us, Merciful Father, 
                         in Christ's name, we beg you, help 
                         us, please, Dear God, save us, help 
                         us, please, God, help...

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               BRODY'S POLICE BOAT - DAY
</b>
               He is rounding a sand bar off the lighthouse when he looks 
               ahead and sees the bright sails of some of the survivors' 
               boats.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Thank Christ.

               He puts the helm over and heads for them.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. OCEAN NEAR LIGHTHOUSE - DAY
</b>
               Polo's sloop is beating back towards the harbor when the 
               police launch bears down, Brody leaning on the air horn.

               The Kids signal and wave.

<b>                                     POLO
</b>                         Over here! Yo!

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I'm coming alongside!

               The launch slows clumsily. Timmy gets a line around a cleat, 
               and pulls them fast.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Mike? Is that you?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Pop. I'm sorry.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         It's okay. What happened?

<b>                                     POLO
</b>                         A shark hit us out there.

<b>                                     TIMMY
</b>                         Mike got knocked over.

               Brody goes for his radio, to report in, to call for help.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         I passed out, but I'm okay.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         At least you're safe. What about the 
                         others?

               The three boys look at each other.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Jesus, don't freeze on me. What about 
                         the others?

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                              (tears in his eyes)
                         Sean's still out there.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         What?

               He stops in his tracks, radio forgotten. heartsick. Mike 
               goes on,

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         He wanted to come. It was okay, wasn't 
                         it? It was okay before...

<b>                                     POLO
</b>                         The others are ratted together. 
                         Drifting.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Which way?

<b>                                     TIMMY
</b>                         With the current. Towards Cable 
                         Junction.

               Brody jerks the mooring line holding them together, freeing 
               it. He starts for his controls, obsessed.

<b>                                     MIKE
</b>                         Dad, I'm sorry...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Stay here. Don't go anywhere. Just 
                         stay here.

               He indicates the lighthouse, then guns his engine.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Stay at the lighthouse!

               He roars off, headed towards Cable Junction.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. OCEAN - DAY - THE RAFT
</b>
               approaching Cable Junction the rafted boats are drifting 
               towards the Cable Junction.  Larry, Patrick and Andy are 
               working on improvised tiller lines to a jury rudder made out 
               of wreckage. Lucy has another line out to a sea anchor, trying 
               to slow their drift.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Bring her to port a little. That's 
                         it -- steady.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         I think we're changing course a 
                         little.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Can we land on it?

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         If we can get to it.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         We're going to die.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                              (comforting her)
                         It's all right, we're okay.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         More to port.

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         It's all the way over.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Shit.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Are we going to go on the island?

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         You bet, kiddo.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                              (the realist)
                         I don't know.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         What the hell, we're steering for 
                         it.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         The wind drift is lateral.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         What's that mean?

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Sideways -- For every yard we go 
                         this way, we also slide sideways 
                         this way...

               His hands illustrate the predicament.

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         But we had it! We were headed right 
                         for it!

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Shit. Shit, shit, shit!

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         We're going to miss it!

               The others are silent. It's true.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE RAFT
</b>
               Larry, Bob and Brooke try to alter its course by padding.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Don't!

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Stop paddling!

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         But the island!

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         The Shark.

               They freeze, as the raft grinds against something.

<b>               UNDERWATER
</b>
               The inverted mast of one of the wrecked boats is snagged on 
               the rocks on the bottom.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE RAFT
</b>
               as it slows, then stops, hung up from below.

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         What is it?

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         We're hung up on something.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Maybe the bottom.

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                              (hysteria)
                         It's that thing. It's going to kill 
                         us now... We're going to die!

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         Shut up! Just shut Up!

<b>                                     BROOKE
</b>                         Leave her alone!

<b>                         BOB
</b>                 Lighten up, man...

<b>                         LARRY
</b>                 It's bad enough without 
                 her freaking out.

<b>                                                       PATRICK
</b>                                               She's hysterical, goddamn 
                                               it!

<b>                                                       LUCY
</b>                                               Don't yell at her!

               The group dissolves in bitter exchanges. No one is rational.

               Lucy is the first to notice something...

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         Wait a minute! Listen! Listen!

               The group subsides, only Jackie is left, keening to herself.

               There's a distant sound of a boat's engine. Bob spots it 
               first, and waves.

               The others follow his pointing finger.

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         Over there! Coming this way!

<b>               HIS POINT OF VIEW - BRODY'S POLICE BOAT
</b>
               under full power, heading straight for them,

<b>               THE KIDS
</b>
               go crazy, waving, yelling, screaming, "Over here!" "Help!" 
               "Hey!"

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         It's Dad!

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY AND THE RAFT
</b>
               in the boat, coming up on the Kids fast. He throttles back, 
               his bow wave almost swamping them as he slides past.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Easy, easy -- you'll swamp us!

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Back down!

               Brody fumbles with the throttle, manages to hold his boat 
               steady between the raft and Cable Junction island.

<b>                                     LARRY
</b>                         We're hung up here. Snagged.

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         Can you get us a line?

               Brody finds a coil of line, makes one end fast, then throws 
               it to the Kids on the raft. They catch it, and tie it off to 
               a cleat.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         We got it!

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         Go ahead, slow.

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         Be careful.

               Brody throttles forward, the police boat shudders under the 
               strain as the line goes taut.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE RAFT
</b>
               where the rope is tied off to a cleat. The wood groans, screws 
               pop --

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Whoa!

               Too late. The cleat rips out, Brody's boat leaps forward.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Come around again!

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY'S BOAT
</b>
               as he repositions; he's now between the raft and the island, 
               preparing to throw his line. He heaves, the Kids grab, they 
               have it, they tie off again,

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Hang on, hang on -- we got it. You're 
                         on!

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Dad! Help!

               Brody starts to pull the raft again, when:

<b>               THE SHARK
</b>
               surfaces, and moves purposefully towards the gap that 
               separates the police boat from the raft. It lunges at Brody 
               as it passes the launch; the fin hits the taut rescue line, 
               snapping it.

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY'S BOAT
</b>
               Brody recoils in horror as the beast rushes past, he spins 
               the wheel and hits the throttle, sending the launch hard to 
               port. Out of control, it runs up on the rocks of Cable 
               Junction.

<b>               INSIDE THE BOAT
</b>
               as it tips up on the rocks. Brody falls, equipment and loose 
               material breaks loose and falls.

<b>               INSERT - THE RADIO
</b>
               held by only a few screws, it pulls out of its mount and 
               shatters on the deck.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE STERN
</b>
               lifting high out of the water, the screw turning in air.

<b>               THE KIDS ON THE RAFT
</b>
               Their horrified reactions.

<b>               BRODY IN THE BOAT
</b>
               picks himself up, and staggers to the rail, sees his 
               predicament.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Hang on!

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Dad! Dad!

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I'm okay, baby, I'm here. It's okay...

               He climbs over the rail, onto the slippery wet rocks, trying 
               to get to where he can help. The Shark patrols the gap, 
               waiting.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Can you get a line to me?

<b>               ABOARD THE RAFT
</b>
               the Kids find some line. Andy coils, and throws.

<b>               CABLE JUNCTION - THE RAFT
</b>
               Brady catches the Kids' line. He heaves on it with all his 
               might. Nothing. Jackie is hysterical, some of the other Kids 
               are screaming. The Shark's fin catches the taut line, it 
               slides up and over, Brody and the Kids are nearly pulled 
               into the water. The raft doesn't budge.

<b>               UNDERWATER
</b>
               the mast bends under the strain, but holds the raft stuck 
               fast.

<b>               CABLE JUNCTION - BRODY AND THE KIDS
</b>
               He sees the winch and hooks on his launch, and makes the 
               towline fast to the steel winch cable; puts it in neutral.

               The Kids haul their line, trying to bring the steel cable to 
               them.

               The shark rams their raft, impatient now. Screams and 
               scrambling as they let go their line and try to avoid the 
               beast. Brooke huddles with Sean, Jackie cowers alone. Larry 
               is lashing his big buck knife to a pole, an improvised weapon.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE WINCH LINE
</b>
               Unattended, it drops into the water.

<b>               THE KIDS
</b>
<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Get the cable in! Pull!

               They do, but now the winch cable is snagged under the surface.

               It comes taut, but doesn't budge. Brody watches, helpless 
               for the moment.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Son of a bitch is stuck!

<b>               BRODY
</b>
               climbs back onto the boat, starts the winch engine, trying 
               to pull the cable free.

<b>               THE SHARK
</b>
               on the offensive now, takes an outrigger pontoon, biting it, 
               tearing it off the raft, shaking everything.

<b>               ON THE RAFT
</b>
               the Kids react to this fresh attack.

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         It's killing us!

<b>                                     JACKIE
</b>                         I don't want to die! Mommy!

<b>               IN THE BOAT
</b>
               The winch smokes and stalls, the weight it's pulling almost 
               too much.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Come on, you bastard, come on, pull.  
                         Pull!

<b>               THE RAFT
</b>
               bursts apart from the center as the Shark lunges up through 
               the canvas trampoline of the Sizzler. The Kids, screaming, 
               fall into the water as the attack forces the fragile structure 
               into pieces. Only Sean, Brooke, and Jackie are left on the 
               remaining segment.

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY
</b>
               watching the destruction, seeing Sean practically alone in 
               the water.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Sean! Hang on!

               He looks around the deck frantically, spots a rubber emergency 
               inflatable in its case. He wrestles it off its brackets, and 
               breaks the seals urgently. He hits the auto-inflate.

<b>               BRODY'S POINT OF VIEW - SEAN
</b>
               Alone on the raft, Brooke and Jackie helpless nearby, the 
               other Kids flailing in the water. The huge bulk of the Shark, 
               fin cutting the water as it closes in on the confusion.

<b>               IN THE WATER
</b>
               While Brody inflates the rubber raft and throws it in the 
               water, the Kids scramble for safety, swimming for their lives.  
               Each one is sure this moment is going to be his last.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Get on the rocks!

<b>                                     DOUG
</b>                         Swim for it!

               Andy is pulling himself towards the boat, scrambling up on 
               the exposed wooden hull.

<b>                                     PATRICK
</b>                         Lucy! Look out!

<b>               ANGLE ON LUCY AND BOB
</b>
               As she looks over her shoulder and screams -- the monster is 
               sliding past her, intent on Bob. The rough hide scrapes her, 
               tearing her clothes, leaving raw bleeding lacerations on her 
               torso.

<b>                                     LUCY
</b>                         I'm bleeding!

               Larry and Patrick help her towards the rocks.

<b>                                     BOB
</b>                         Help!

               He's clinging to a piece of broken boat; the Shark lunges at 
               him.

<b>               INSERT - WINCH
</b>
               grinding, smoking, hauling something out of the water -- 
               heavy, slimy, dripping metal cable, the main powerline from 
               the mainland!

<b>               BRODY IN THE WATER
</b>
               paddling the raft towards Sean with desperate strokes, 
               heedless of the danger around him.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Hang on! Just hang on!

               He fights to see in the gathering gloom. Suddenly, a strange 
               glare snaps on, then more illumination, in a series of 
               escalating clicks.

<b>               CABLE JUNCTION
</b>
               Silhouetted against the evening sky. Automatic timers are 
               turning on navigation and worklights, illuminating the barren 
               rocks and rusty steel with their glare -- throwing dark 
               shadows, putting the surrounding water into black limbo by 
               their contract.

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY
</b>
               straining to see what's going on. Looking for his son.

<b>                                     SEAN (O.S.)
</b>                         Dad! Help! Daddy!

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         I'm coming!

               He looks around desperately, sees Andy safe on the launch.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Andy! Use the lights! The lights!

<b>               ANGLE ON ANDY
</b>
               soaked, clinging to the rail of the launch, hearing Brody, 
               fumbling in the cabin, turning on worklights, the boat 
               throwing erratic shafts of powerful light from its many lamps 
               and searchlights. Andy grabs one and sweeps the water with 
               it, trying to help.

<b>                                     ANDY
</b>                         Where are you? Chief!

               His light pokes and sweeps through the gloom.

<b>               BRODY IN THE WATER
</b>
               He hears the horrendous sounds of wood and metal breaking, 
               as the raft pounds to pieces on the rocks. He is blinded by 
               the sweeping searchlight, the confusion of terror-stricken 
               teen-agers screaming. It's the middle of The Inferno.

<b>               BRODY'S POINT OF VIEW - SEAN
</b>
               Sean, standing up, reaching out to him, the Shark hitting 
               his fragile perch, Sean tumbling backwards, towards what 
               seems to be certain death.

<b>                                     BRODY (O.S.)
</b>                         Sean!

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY
</b>
               as he hurls his paddle at the Shark, anything to get even, 
               to distract it.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         You bastard!

               He looks around him wildly, searching for a weapon, finding 
               a steel boathook. He screams at the unfeeling Shark...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Come here, you son-of-a-bitch!

               The huge gray hulk obligingly turns towards this new 
               irritation. Brody bangs on the raft, yelling, creating a 
               commotion.

<b>               THE SHARK SPEEDS TOWARDS HIM
</b>
<b>               THE SHARK
</b>
               lunges at the raft, Brody sliding desperately away, smashing 
               at the snout with his steel, the tail fin bashing him as it 
               passes...

<b>               ANGLE ON THE STERN OF THE POLICE BOAT
</b>
               Brody is drifting close to the cable, drawn heavy and wet 
               cut of the water. He reaches up to it.

<b>               ANGLE ON BRODY
</b>
               dangling his feet in the water, holding onto the cable, seeing 
               it, inspired with a lunatic idea...

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Over here! You bastard! Over here

<b>               THE SHARK
</b>
               turns, bleeding from a superficial cut on its snout, its 
               scar glistening wet and terrible. It heads for Brody.

<b>               BRODY
</b>
               Possessed, yelling at the top of his lungs.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Come and get me! Come and get me!

<b>               THE SHARK
</b>
               Attacking. Missing Brody, who hauls himself up out of the 
               way in life-or-death spasm. The great jaws close, fastening 
               onto the thick cable. Shaking it. The cable resists for a 
               moment, then splits, layers or insulation and armor crack 
               open, the jaws clamp harder -- 20,000 tons of pressure -- 
               then the live copper core is reached. Zap!

<b>               THE SHARK
</b>
               dying. Leaping and convulsing as hundreds of thousands of 
               volts surge through its body, grounded in the salt sea. Hot 
               white fire shimmers like a halo, the fish smokes and stinks, 
               sputters, and dies.

<b>               BRODY
</b>
               watching, cowering on the rubber raft to which he fell when 
               the shark hit the cable. It's strangely silent. The lights 
               on Cable Junction flicker and die as circuit breakers shut 
               down the mains, protecting the line. Only the boat's 
               worklights provide light now.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Sean?

               No answer. Water lapping at the rocks, some Kids sobbing 
               quietly. Brody listlessly paddles towards the wreckage of 
               the raft, expecting the worst...

<b>               ANGLE ON THE WRECKAGE
</b>
               Timmy's Doughdish, where we last saw Sean. There's a 
               scrabbling from inside, and Sean appears, soaked, from under 
               the seat where he'd fallen.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         Dad?

               Brody moves toward him, holds out his arms, taking Sean onto 
               his raft. They paddle back towards the rocks.

<b>               THE ISLAND
</b>
               with the Kids clinging like drowned rats to the rocks; they're 
               wet, scared, exhausted, but safe. Sean hugs his daddy as 
               they step onto land.

<b>                                     SEAN
</b>                         They made me go with them.

<b>                                     BRODY
</b>                         Sure they did...

               He kisses the damp forehead.

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. AMITY HARBOR - DAY
</b>
               A crowd of worried parents and adults, Ellen and Hendricks 
               in the forefront, are staring towards the harbor mouth. It's 
               dawn and the sun is rising. They see something, a cheer goes 
               up.

<b>               ANGLE ON THE WATER
</b>
               A big Coast Guard cutter is steaming into the harbor, a little 
               group of survivors on the foredeck.

<b>               CLOSE ON THE CUTTER
</b>
               Brody and the surviving Kids wave to their families on land.

<b>                                                                  FADE OUT:
</b>
<b>               ROLL END CREDITS.
</b>
<b>                                         THE END
</b></pre><br>
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	<td><h1>Jaws 2</h1><br><br>
	    <b>Writers</b> : &nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/writer.php?w=Carl Gottlieb" title="Scripts by Carl Gottlieb">Carl Gottlieb</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/writer.php?w=Howard Sackler" title="Scripts by Howard Sackler">Howard Sackler</a><br>
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What does the town council do to Brody?
What does the town council do to Brody ?
Vote him out as Police Chief
Vote him out as Police Chief
They voted for him to be removed from his position as police chief.
They voted for him to be removed from his position as police chief .