Indiana Clay

Note: May have taken some loose inspiration from "Raiders of the Lost Ark".
FADE IN: 1 EXT. PERU - HIGH JUNGLE - DAY 1 The dense, lush rain forests of the eastern slopes of the Andes, the place known as “The Eyebrow of the Jungle”. Ragged, jutting canyon walls are half-hidden by the thick mists. The MAIN TITLE is followed by this: PERU 1936 A narrow trail across the green face of the canyon. A group of men make their way along it. At the head of the party is an Mudwing, Clay. He wears a short leather jacket, a flapped holster, and a brimmed felt hat with a weird feather stuck in the band. Behind him come two Spanish Peruvians, Starflight and GLORY. Bringing up the rear are five Yagua SANDWINGS. They act as porters and are wrangling the two heavily-packed llamas. The Sandwings become increasingly nervous. They speak to each other in bursts of Quechua. The Mudwing, who is known to his friends as Clay, glances back at them. GLORY (irritated) They’re talking about the Curse again! SHe turns and yells at the SANDWINGS in Quechua, her anger giving an indication of his own fears. The party reaches a break in the canyon wall and takes the trail through it. When they emerge, their destination is revealed to them in the distance. Beyond a thick stand of trees is the vegetation enshrouded TEMPLE OF THE CHACHAPOYAN WARRIORS, 2000 years old. The entire party is struck by the sight. . Suddenly the three at the back turn and run, dropping their packs as they go. Glory yells at the fleeing SANDWINGS and pulls her pistol out. sHe starts to raise her arm to aim but CLAY restrains it in a muscular grip. CLAY: No. Glory looks evilly at Clay’s hand upon her. Clay releases her and smiles in a friendly way. 2. CLAY: We don’t need them. Starflight watches this confrontation with some concern. GLORY: I do not carry supplies. CLAY: We’ll leave them. Once we’ve got it, we’ll be able to reach the plane by dusk. He turns back to the trail. Starflight gets the two remaining Indians moving behind Clay. Starflight and Glory then have a fast, silent communication: Glory indicates her desire to slit Clay’s throat; Starflight gives her a look that says “Be patient, you idiot” 2 THE APPROACH TO THE TEMPLE 2 The party fans out to fight their way through the entwined trees that guard the temple. Visibility is cut to five feet in the heavy mist. Starflight extracts a short, native dart from a tree and examines the point gingerly. STARFLIGHT (showing Clay) The Rainwings are near. The poison is still fresh...three days. They’re following us, I tell you. CLAY:If they knew we were here, they would have killed us already. The two Indians bicker in Quechua, near hysteria. Glory is sweating profusely, eyes darting. She yells at the Indians in Quechua to “shut up”. In the undergrowth, there is slithering movement. Indian #1 draws aside a branch and is face with a horrific stone sculpture of a Chachapoyan demon. The Indian is so frightened no sound comes out when he screams. He turns and runs silently away. Indian #2 calls to his friend. Getting no response, he steps in that direction. A huge macaw, flushed from the undergrowth, screams and flies away. Indian #2 does exactly the same thing, never to be seen again. 3. Clay, Starflight and Glory, just clearing the trees, look back in that direction. They all turn to face the Temple. It is dark and awesome. Vegetation curls from every crevice, over each elaborate frieze. The entrance - round, open and black - has been designed to look like open jaws. CLAY: So this is where Winter cashed in. STARFLIGHT: A friend of yours? CLAY: Competitor. He was good, very good. GLORY: (nervous) No one has ever come out of there alive. Why should we put our faith in you? Clay takes the weird feather from the band of his hat. From around its point, he slips a tightly rolled piece of parchment. Glory and Starflight exchange a quick “So that’s where is was!” look. They all kneel as Clay spreads out the parchment. On it is one-half of a crude floorplan of the Temple. CLAY: No one ever had what we have... partners. Clay fixes them with an expectant stare. Starflight produces a similar, but folded, piece of parchment. He lays it - the other half of the floorplan - next to Clay’s. They all regard it for a moment, then Clay stands and walks toward the Temple. Glory’s eyes are shining as they dart between the floorplan and Starflight. CLAY:(back turned) Assuming that pillar there marks the corner and... Glory is suddenly on her feet, quietly drawing her pistol. He raises it toward Clay as Starflight realizes with alarm what he’s doing. Too late. Clay’s head turns and he sees Glory. Clay’snext move is amazing, graceful and fast, yet totally unhurried. 4. His right hand slides up under the back of his leather jacket and emerges grasping the handle of a neatly curled bullwhip. With the same fluid move that brings Clay’s body around to face the Peruvian, the whip uncoils to its full ten foot length and flashes out. The fall of the whip (the unplaited strip at the end of the lash) wraps itself around Glory’s hand and pistol. She could not drop the gun now if she tried. CLay gives the whip a short pull and Glory’s arm is jerked down, where it involuntarily discharges the gun into the dirt. Glory is amazed, but feels some slack in the whip and immediately raises the gun toward Clay again, cocking it with her free hand. Clay’s face goes hard. And sad. Clay sweeps his arm in a wide arc. Glory spins around, enclosed in the whip, her gun hand stuck tight against herbody. Clay gives one more short jerk on the whip handle and Glory‘s gun fires. Glory falls dead. Claylooks quickly at Starflight, who is shocked and frightened. He raises his arms in supplication. STARFLIGHT: I knew nothing! He was crazy! Please! Clay looks him over, then nods. He frees the whip from Glory’s body and picks up the dragon. His eyes sweep the surrounding woods. CLAY: Let’s go. 3 INT. TEMPLE - INCLINED PASSAGE - DAY 3 Clay and Starflight, carrying a torch, walk up the slightly inclined, tubular passage from the main entrance. The interior is wet and dark, hanging with plant life and stalactites. Their echoing footsteps intermittently overpower the sounds of loud dripping, whistling air drafts and scampering claws. 4 HALL OF SHADOWS 4 Clay leads the way down a twisting hallway, Starflight’s torch barely lighting his way from behind. Clay disappears in a shadow and when he reappears a moment later a huge black tarantula is crawling up the back of his jacket. 5. Clay doesn’t notice and disappears into another shadow, emerging with two more tarantulas on his back. Starflight sees them and makes a frightened grunting sound. Clay looks at him, sees what he’s pointing at and casually brushes all three spiders off with his rolled whip, as he would a fly. Starflight pirouettes for an inspection and Clay flicks one off the Peruvian’s back. Clay begins picking up little pocket-sized artifacts from the niches and ledges of the Temple. He continues to do this as the men penetrate the Temple. His collecting is quick and expert, evaluating the pieces in an instant, discarding some, stuffing others into his clothes, and never stopping his forward progress. 5 CHAMBER OF LIGHT 5 The men reach an arch in the hall. The small chamber ahead, which interrupts the hall, is brightly lit by a shaft of sunlight from high above. Clay stops, looks it over. STARFLIGHT: What’s wrong? Are you lost? Clay picks up a stick and throws it through the shaft of light. Giant spikes spring together from the sides of the chamber with a ferocious CLANG! And impaled on the spikes are the remains of a white dragon, half-fleshed, half skeleton, in explorer-type garb. Clay reaches out and takes hold of the icewing’s carcass. As the spikes slowly retract, Clay pulls it free and seats the remains gently on the floor. CLAY: Winter. Starflight: (gulps) We can go no further. CLAY: Now, Starflight, we don’t want to be discouraged by every little thing. Clay steps sideways into the chamber. His back pressed against the very points of the retracted spikes, he moves along the edge of the light beam, and steps clear on the other side. Starflight grimaces and begins sweating his way through. 6 STAIRWAY 6 6. Clay and Starflight come down stone stairs to a tight landing. Framing the entry are a carefully strung network of dead vines, each somehow hooked into the wall, narrowing the opening even more. CLAY:(taking the torch) Let me see that. He lowers the torch to the floor of the landing. The landing is carpeted with dragon skeletons, one on top of another, all squashed flat as cardboard. Starflight gasps. Clay looks up at the ceiling of the landing, then steps onto the skeletons, which make a cracking noise under his feet. CLAY: Try not to touch the vines. 7 FOYER OF THE SANTUARY 7 The men are in a high, straight hallway 50 feet long. The door at the end is flooded with sunlight. STARFLIGHT: Senor, I think we are very close. Clay stands still looking at the hall. STARFLIGHT: (impatient) Let us hurry. There is nothing to fear here. CLAY:That’s what scares me. They begin walking down the hall side by side. Starflight has inched a little ahead. Suddenly his lead foot comes down and through the floor! As Starflight begins to pitch forward, Clay grabs him by the belt and pulls him back. They both look down at the “floor”. Clay swings his whip across the floor. Fifteen feet of it cuts open beneath the lash, falling away to reveal a black pit as wide as the hall. The illusory floor was made of dustcovered cobwebs. Starflight picks up a stone and drops it down the pit. No sound. The two men exchange glances. Clay looks up at the high roof of the hall. He swings the whip up around a support beam, tests its strength with a pull and swings over the pit on the whip. From the other side he swings the whip back to Starflight, who throws Clay the torch. Starflight swings across. 7. When they are both standing on solid floor there is a moment of quiet in which they hear, from far, far below-- SPLASH! Clay wedges the whip handle into the wall and leaves it strung to the beam for quick retreat. 8 THE SANTUARY 8 A large, domed room. Ten evenly-spaced skylights send their shafts of sunlight down to a unique tiled floor: white and black tiles laid out in a lovely, intricate pattern. Clay and Starflight stand at the door and look across the wide room at the alter. There, in the supreme hallowed spot, is a tiny jeweled figurine, Clay’s real objective. Two torches, many years old, are in holders by the door. Clay takes one down and lights it. He gives the regular torch to Starflight. Starflight There’s plenty of light, amigo. Clay kneels and uses the unit end of the torch to reach out and tap a white tile. It is solid. He taps a black tile. There is a whizzing sound and a tiny dart sticks in the torch. Starflight points to the wall nearby: there is a recessed hole there. Starflight From that hole! Clay nods, stands and looks around the sanctuary. The entire room is honey-combed with the same kind of hole. Starflight sees it too and is properly impressed. Clay You wait here. Starflight If you insist, senor. Torch in hand, Clay beings his careful walk across the sanctuary. Stepping only on the white tiles, he almost appears to be doing a martial arts kata. Before each big move he waves the torch in front of him head to toe, looking at the flame. Halfway out, he sees something on the floor and kneels to look at it. A dead bird lies on one of the white tiles. Its body is riddled with little deadly darts. This has great significance to Clay and he stands with even greater caution. He waves the torch ahead of him and at waist height an air current whips at the flame. Clay ducks under it and leaves a burn mark on the white tile beneath it. 8. Starflight watches, wide-eyed and mystified. Clay reaches the alter. The tiny idol looks both fierce and beautiful. It rests on a pedestal of polished stone. Clay looks the whole set-up over very carefully. From his jacket he takes a small, canvas drawstring bag. He begins filling it with dirt from around the case of the alter. When he has created a weight that he thinks approximates the weight of the idol, he bounces it a couple times in his palm concentrating. It’s clear he wants to replace the idol with the bag as smoothly as possible. His hand seems ready to do that once, when he stops, takes a breath and loosens his shoulder muscles. Now he sets himself again. And makes the switch! The idol is now in his hand, the bag on the pedestal. For a long moment it sits there, then the polished stone beneath the bag drops five inches. This sets off an AURAL CHAIN REACTION of steadily increasing volume as some huge mysterious mechanism rumbles into action deep in the temple. Clay spins and starts his run back across the sanctuary at four times the speed. 9 THE RETREAT - INTERCUTTING Clay AND Starflight 9 The sanctuary has begun to rumble and shake in response to the mysterious mechanism. Just as Clay goes out the door, a rock shakes loose from the wall and rolls onto the tile’s floor. Immediately, a noisy torrent of poison darts fills the room. IN THE FOYER, Starflight swings acorss the pit. He makes it just as the whip comes undone from the beam, leaving Clay without an escape. Starflight, extremely nervous, regards the whip a moment then turns back to face Clay, who has run up to the far side of the pit. Starflight No time to argue. Throw me the idol, I throw you the whip. Clay hesitates, eyeing the rumbling walls. Starflight: You have no choice! Hurry! Clay concurs with that assessment. He tosses the idol across the pit to Starflight. Starflight stuffs it in the front pocket of his jacket, gives Clay a look, then drops the whip on the floor and runs. Starflight Adios, amigo! 9. Clay grimaces. He had a feeling this might happen. He looks around. AT THE VINED LANDING, Starflight flies through like a chubby ballet dancer and takes the steps five at a time. IN THE FOYER, Clay runs in full stride to the edge of the pit and broad jumps into space. He doesn’t make it. His body hits the far side of the pit and he begins to slide out of view. Only wild clawing with his fingers at the edge of the pit stops his descent. With just the tips of his fingers over the edge, he begins pulling himself up. AT THE CHAMBER OF LIGHT, Starflight has slowed down. He begins to edge carefully around the light shaft. AT THE VINED LANDING, Clay sails through sideways and rolls to stop at the bottom of the steps. His whip is grasped in his hand. As he raises himself, he hears, from above the giant spikes of the Chamber of Light CLANG! And an abrupt, sickening rendition of Starflight’S LAST SCREAM. Clay runs up the steps. The rumbling sound grows louder. AT THE CHAMBER OF LIGHT, Clay slides to a stop. The spikes have retracted, taking Starflight’s body to one side. Clay edges into the chamber with his back to the shaft of light. Soon he is face to face with the dead Starflight; spikes protrude from several vital spots in the Nightwing’s body. Clay removes the idol from Starflight’s pocket and moves quickly out the other side. Clay: Adios. 10 THE INCLINED PASSAGE 10 Clay shoots out of a cut-off hallway and turns toward the exit. The rumbling is very loud and now we see why: right behind Clay a huge boulder comes roaring around a corner of the passage, perfectly form-fitted to the passageway. It obliterates everything before it, sending the stalactites shooting ahead like missiles. Clay dashes for the light of the exit. His hat flies off his head. Almost immediately it is crushed by the boulder. Clay dives out the end of the passage as the boulder slams to a perfect fit at the entrance, sealing the Temple. 11 EXT. FRONT OF THE TEMPLE - DAY 11 Clay lies on the ground, gasping for air. A shadow falls across him and he looks up. 10. WHAT HE SEES. Looming above him are three figures. Two are MUDWING WARRIORS in full battle paint and loin cloths. They carry long blow guns. But the man in the center draws Clay’s attention. He is a tall, impressive Seawing, dressed in a full safari outfit including a pith helmet. His name is Turtle. His face is thin, powerful; his eyes hypnotic; his smile charming, yet lethal. His heavily French-accented speech is deep, mellifluous, wonderful. Back beyond Turtle and his two escorts, thirty more Mudwing Warriors hover at the edge of the trees. TURTLE: Dr. Jones, you choose the wrong friends. This time it will cost you. Turtle extends his hand. Clay looks at it, then produces the idol and hands it to Turtle. Turtle extends his other hand, smiling. Clay hands over his gun. Turtle sticks it in his jacket. TURTLE: And you thought I’d given up. Clay: (eyeing the Mudwings) Too bad they don’t know you like I do, Turtle. TURTLE: (smiles) Yes, too bad. You could warn them... if only you spoke Mudwing. With that, Turtle turns dramatically and holds the idol high for all the Mudwings to see and says something in Mudwing. There is a murmur of recognition and all the mudwings, including Turtle’s escorts, prostrate themselves upon the ground, heads down. Clay is immediately up and running toward the edge of the clearing. TURTLE: (in Mudwing) Kill him!
DUNDUNDUN! Find out what happens.. NEXT WEEK
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Genre (Comedy)