Two Winters Past

EXT. DEPOSIT. NIGHT.

Downpour so heavy the scene appears to be shot through a scrim.

WIDE: Looking straight down showing both sides of the Deposit wall. Focus on LOGAN, far to the right of the frame. He is climbing a ladder, holding his scythe-sword. The Deposit wall is beaten but not broken. Scratched and dented car chassis are exposed. Catwalk is gone. A few dangling 2x4’s and a tangle of debris at the bottom that all that remain. Several Barabas are slamming ladders against the wall to follow LOGAN. There are not enough men for a defense. Already several Damascan squads have put up ladders and warriors are climbing.

LOGAN strikes at the first Damascan to crest the wall, striking the warrior in the neck with the scythe-blade sword.

Blood fans from the wound.

Damascan falls from the ladder, but another is climbing up to take his place.

More Barabas have reached the top, and are engaging the Damascans with spears and hand weapons.

The difference in technology is marked. Barabas are fighting with improvised weapons crafted from garden tools. Damascans have weapons crafted for war. These are pounded spear heads and beaten swords.  

LOGAN kills another Damascan. We travel with his body as it drops off the ladder, scrapes along the jagged metal Deposit wall, and lands on the shell of shields below.

Barabas near LOGAN takes an arrow to the face and falls.

LOGAN is momentarily distracted, giving a Damascan warrior opportunity to lunge up the ladder and grapple.

LOGAN loses his balance and falls back, pulling the Damascan with him.

They land in a pile of debris. LOGAN lands flat on his back and cries out.

Damascan sits up. A nail has stuck a board to his shoulder. Damascan opens his mouth to shout, but a spear is thrust in from OS and stabs Damascan in the throat.

Barabas helps LOGAN to his feet, pulling him out of the fray.

LOGAN: I’m okay! I can walk!

LOGAN winces, but is able to walk. In the background 5 ladders are up with Barabas at the top fighting hand-to-hand. The last of the Barabas are here pressed against this section of wall beneath them, waiting for their turn to climb. There may be 40 fighters.

We do not see the face, only the barrel of the rifle at the top of the Deposit wall. It fires with a puff of smoke.

JUMP CUT: to the Damascan tortoise that has formed beneath the ladders of the fighting man. Extended echo of the gunshot. The squad was planting explosives. The bullet is a lucky shot.

WIDE: in a yellow flash, the entire Damascan squad, the Barabas above them, and that section of wall are obliterated.

Debris and shrapnel spray the field, shredding Barabas and Damascan alike.

LOGAN is knocked down.

A horrid silence follows the blast. Only the distant lights have not been extinguished. Battlefield has fallen in darkness.

LOGAN sits, trying to stand. We see barely more than his white outline from the moon.

CLOSEUP: LOGAN’s eyes, reflecting moonlight and wide with disbelief.

WIDE: We see the gaping hole in the Deposit wall. Nothing remains, like a tooth socket, with raw, jagged metal on either side. We are looking over LOGAN’s shoulder as he stares into the void outside.

A road flare ignites. It is Mehemet, on a horse. On either side of him, more flares ignite, illuminating the charging front line of Damascus.

MED SHOT: SLOW-MO PAN across the Damascan line. They run in close formation, massed together now, mouths agape, swords raised above their heads. All this is lit in red by the torches. First we hear no sound through the rain then we hear their terrible wail, fading in louder until they are a great roar.

A few courageous BARABAS have reached the breach and are firing their rifles and arrows into the horde, but it is not enough to make any difference.

LOGAN rips the cross from his chest and picks up a sword.

LOGAN: Barabas has fallen! Barabas lives!

WIDE: Pan across the Deposit yard. The Barabas have assembled as a loose mob in the yard behind LOGAN, who is the subject of focus as the camera passes him. No more than 20 Barabas remain.

SLOW: LOGAN’s mouth opens in a muted scream as he raises his sword and lurches forward into a charge. Rain comes down in an almost solid sheet, pooling on the ground, splattering, creating mud.

LOGAN charges. Barabas raise their weapons and follow.

Reverse perspectives to the Damascans as they surge forth into the breach. Men on the outside are shoved into the jagged metal of former cars destroyed by the blast.

Deposit has been overrun. Camera rises above the raging battle, looking down into the fray of bobbing heads and flashing blades. Zoom out, camera raising up, until all we can see is falling rain, and then nothing.

The screams of the dying continues for some time.

FADE TO BLACK

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