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revenant.txt
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THE REVENANT
Written by
Mark L Smith
Based on the novel by
MICHAEL PUNKE
September 26, 2007
Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice.
- Samuel Johnson
Based on a true story
FADE IN:
EXT. UPPER MISSOURI RIVER/1820'S - EVENING
ANGLE ON A SINGLE COTTONWOOD LEAF... brown and crisp...
clinging to its empty branch... the solitary sign of life on
an otherwise barren tree.
A gust of wind... the leaf breaks free... flutters down,
landing in the slow current of the Missouri. The last leaf
of the fall, taking its final journey south.
As it floats along the surface, rising and falling with the
current, all we can hear is the river's gentle movement...
the trickle of water... the splash of timid rapids... until
DISTANT VOICES invade this world... soft at first, but
growing louder... LAUGHTER... SINGING.
And then our leaf CRASHES INTO A WOODEN BOARD... the BOW OF A
BOAT. We hear the VOICES EVEN CLEARER... MEN'S VOICES, as we
rise up the bow... see it's a FLATBOAT BEACHED ON A SANDBAR
at the center of the river.
Beyond the flatboat are the voices... TWENTY MEN of the Rocky
Mountain Fur Company, making camp along the shore... hauling
wood, building campfires, pitching squares of canvas for
makeshift rooftops. And this camp is full of life because
these are some of the first men to ever see this untouched
wilderness... men with a whole new world just waiting for
them to claim their share.
EXT. CAMP - EVENING
CAPTAIN ANDREW HENRY, (late 20's), dressed in a buckskin
jacket with long fringe... thick belt pulled tightly around
his waist with two pistols and a knife hanging from it. He
stands out among the others... like an imposter pretending to
be a member of some exclusive club. He pulls off one of his
gloves... examines the BLOOD-FILLED BLISTERS lining his palm.
From across the camp, JOHN FITZGERALD, (40's), solid and
thick... dark eyes of a killer, watches Henry. He nudges
MACE BOONE, (40's), a thief in a previous life.
FITZGERALD
Likely got a splinter. Can't
figure what to do without Mama here
to pull it out for him.
Boone chuckles... spits in Henry's direction.
2.
BOONE
Need a doc, Captain?
Henry looks up... sees Fitzgerald and Boone grinning at him.
He slides his glove back on.
HENRY
Gather more wood.
Fitzgerald waits for Henry to turn, then gives his back an
exaggerated salute.
FITZGERALD
(under his breath)
Shame my Pap was a broken down
drunk. Else he could've bought me
a Captain's job too.
Boone snickers. Fitzgerald stomps his boot onto a branch,
easily snaps it into two easy-to-carry pieces.
FITZGERALD (CONT'D)
We got a plan for these fires,
Captain, or are we roastin' berries
all the way up to Fort Union?
HENRY
Glass and the others will be back
with some game, Fitzgerald. Just
make sure you have the fires ready.
FITZGERALD
My supper's in the hands of a
hermit nigger, a kid and a dummy.
Hell, my belly feels full already.
Fitzgerald's boot CRACKS another branch... and when it does,
we hear the EXPLOSION OF A GUNSHOT.
CUT TO:
EXT. WILDERNESS - EVENING
And a CLOUD OF SMOKE surrounding the LONG BARREL OF AN
ANSTADT RIFLE.
The smoke fades, and at the other end of the rifle we see the
face of HUGH GLASS, (40's), African-American, one eye still
closed, as the other calmly stares down that barrel.
VOICE (O.S.)
Shit fire, you got him, Mr. Glass!
3.
Glass lowers the rifle, as PIG GILMORE, (30's), fat and
filthy, races past.
PIG (CONT'D)
Square as a barn door.
JIM BRIDGER, (17), young eyes that have already seen a lot,
nods to Glass as he follows Pig.
Glass watches Pig and Bridger trot through the trees to a
fallen ELK. Glass walks calmly after them, graceful in this
world... his rifle so comfortable in his hand it's like he
was born with it there. Pig crouches over the dead elk...
grins up at Glass.
PIG (CONT'D)
Right where you said he'd be.
BRIDGER
But bigger than we figured. Gonna
be a load to haul back to camp.
PIG
Have to split it up I reckon.
GLASS
Yep. Bridger'll take the tail, and
Pig you haul the rest.
And Fitzgerald was right about Pig being a little slow,
because he just nods... pulls out his knife to cut the tail
off for Bridger.
Bridger and Glass exchange a smile... until Glass notices
something... steps over the elk, his eyes locked on the
ground beside it. He runs a finger over the dirt... touches
a broken twig.
BRIDGER
Another one close by?
Glass doesn't answer... studies the track... feels the nearby
brush... inhales the scent from his hand. Bridger and Pig
watch him... exchange a confused glance. And then in a flash
of movement, Glass is on his feet, racing away.
PIG
Hugh?
Glass just keeps running. Pig and Bridger chase after him.
CUT TO:
4.
EXT. CAMP - EVENING
The men building fires... laughing... enjoying themselves.
Boone on the outskirts, gathering branches.
CUT TO:
GLASS - TEARING THROUGH THE WOODS...
...dodging trees... leaping over fallen logs... loading his
Anstadt as he runs.
BRIDGER AND PIG - CHASING AFTER GLASS...
...but not as gracefully. Pig trips... slams to the
ground... scrambles back to his feet to continue on.
CUT TO:
BOONE - CARRYING AN ARMLOAD OF WOOD INTO CAMP...
...seeing other men playing cards. He stops along the edge
of camp, drops the wood to the ground.
BOONE
No rule says I'm the only one
that's gotta gather this shit.
The other men don't even notice. Then an ARROW WHIZZES
THROUGH THE AIR from behind Boone... THWACK... it hits him in
the back of the neck... erupts out the front of his throat.
Boone stands frozen... confused... reaches up and grabs the
bloody arrow... finally drops to his knees. And that's when
a TRAPPER looks up... sees Boone on his knees, holding that
arrow, his mouth open like a dying fish.
AND BEYOND BOONE ARE FORTY ARIKARA WARRIORS CHARGING THROUGH
THE TREES... FEATHERS RISING FROM THE MOHAWKS SPLITTING THEIR
SHAVED HEADS... FACES PAINTED FOR BATTLE.
TRAPPER
`REE!
WHOOSH... AN ARROW SAILS INTO THE TRAPPER'S CHEST, sending
him flying backward. The camp explodes into chaos... men
YELLING... grabbing for weapons... stumbling over each other
as they duck behind trees.
5.
HENRY - PULLING THE PISTOLS FROM HIS BELT...
...taking aim at the attacking figures.
The Arikara pour into camp, arrows flying... knives and
hatchets swinging. And this is a massacre... the Arikara
wading through the trappers... stabbing... clubbing...
scalping. This once peaceful world is filled with a sickening
mix of war cries and screams of death.
Fitzgerald rises up from behind a log... aims his rifle...
BOOM... takes down one of the warriors. He starts reloading
as ANOTHER WARRIOR charges him... draws back his knife.
Fitzgerald pours the powder, but knows he isn't going to make
it in time... the warrior leaps toward him...
...BOOM... it's like the warrior hits an invisible wall...
flies back to the ground, very dead. Fitzgerald spins...
sees Glass and his Anstadt right behind him.
GLASS
GET TO THE BOAT!
Fitzgerald takes off... flips his rifle around, swings it
like a club across a warrior's head... WHACK!
GLASS (CONT'D)
(TO HENRY)
THE BOAT, CAPTAIN!
Henry shoves a TRAPPER toward the water. An arrow drives
into the trapper's leg... he goes down. Henry lifts the man
to pull him into the river, but several more arrows bury in
the man's back... he falls limp. Henry FIRES HIS PISTOLS,
dropping the WARRIOR.
Bridger and Pig join Glass... splash into the river, SHOOTING
back at the attacking Arikara. The water deepens, and they
start swimming toward the flatboat.
ARROWS HISS into the water all around them.
Glass is still in the shallows... aims his pistol... BAM...
shoots an oncoming warrior... spins after the other men...
joins them as they near the flatboat.
A final TRAPPER charges down the shore behind them. SEVERAL
WARRIORS pursue him.
TRAPPER
WAIT!
6.
He aims his pistol over his shoulder as he runs... pulls the
trigger... CLICK... pulls it again... CLICK. But he's too
scared to stop his finger... CLICK... CLICK... CLICK...
THUD... as a hatchet buries in his back. He crashes face
first into the shallows.
The Arikara leader, (ELK'S TONGUE), animal bones braided into
his mohawk, a NECKLACE OF HUMAN EARS around his neck,
straddles the dying man. Elk's Tongue grabs the Trapper by
the hair, and CUTS OFF HIS LEFT EAR, then holds it up to
Glass and the others, as he SCREAMS HIS WAR CRY.
Glass and the men shove the flatboat off the sandbar... start
scrambling aboard, as arrows dart past them... drive into the
wooden boat.
Suddenly a WARRIOR EXPLODES FROM THE WATER... tackles Bridger
as he climbs up the side of the flatboat... jerks him back
into the river. Bridger flails in the water... watches the
warrior raise his hatchet high to slam down... just as Glass
SLAMS THE BUTT OF HIS ANSTADT into the back of the Warrior's
head.
The Warrior collapses under the surface. Glass grabs
Bridger's hand... drags him up onto the deck.
BRIDGER
Thank you.
But Glass is already gone... FIRING BACK AT THE ARIKARA, as
the current carries them away.
VOICE (O.S.)
HEY!
Pig looks over the side... sees a frantic WILLIAM ANDERSON
gripped to the edge. Pig pulls him onto the boat.
Fitzgerald and Glass grab LONGPOLES... shove them against the
river's bottom to pick up speed.
Henry stands on deck, watching as Elk's Tongue yanks a DYING
TRAPPER's head back by his hair to peel away his scalp.
Henry drops his eyes... can't watch. The TRAPPER'S SCREAM
ECHOES OVER HIM.
EXT. MISSOURI RIVER/FLATBOAT - LATER
Quiet and dark... the battle long over. The flatboat floats
with the gentle current. The NINE SURVIVING TRAPPERS are
scattered around the deck...
7.
Glass digging an arrow out of WALLACE MURPHY'S SHOULDER...
Fitzgerald poling on one side with Anderson on the other...
STUBBY BILL VANCE and Pig standing patrol with their
rifles... Bridger doctoring a badly WOUNDED TRAPPER... and
Henry standing at the front of the flatboat, staring off
blankly.
FITZGERALD
What's the plan, Captain?
Henry's still lost in those screams.
FITZGERALD (CONT'D)
Captain! What the hell do we do
now?
Henry snaps out of his stare... turns to the men... obviously
doesn't have an answer.
ANDERSON
We're just floatin' farther from
Fort Union.
Henry's eyes instinctively look to Glass.
GLASS
The Missouri's no good. Not if the
`Ree's running it.
FITZGERALD
So we just float the hell down to
Mexico or wherever else this river
takes us?
GLASS
We get ourselves safe outta range,
then track another course up.
FITZGERALD
Add weeks to the trip.
BRIDGER
Better that than endin' up scalped
on the side of the river.
FITZGERALD
(shoving him away)
Shut up, kid, you don't get no say
in this.
Bridger starts to respond, but Fitzgerald's angry glare stops
him.
8.
FITZGERALD (CONT'D)
(back to Henry)
And in case you hadn't noticed,
Captain, we're twelve men short of
what we were.
(off the badly wounded
TRAPPER)
Thirteen before long.
HENRY
I understand our situation, Mr.
Fitzgerald. We do like Glass
said... put some distance between
us and the Arikara, then chart a
course to Fort Union.
Fitzgerald MUMBLES UNDER HIS BREATH... rolls those dark eyes
to Anderson. Glass gives Henry a nod.
EXT. MISSOURI RIVER/FLATBOAT - NIGHT
ANGLE ON THE BADLY WOUNDED TRAPPER... NOW DEAD...
...as hands push the body over the side of the boat. It
splashes into the water... floats downstream.
We PULL BACK... see that the flatboat is beached along the
bank of the river. Glass and Pig watch the body drift away.
PIG
Reckon it's better `an lettin' the
`Ree find him... take his ears...
slice what's left all to shit.
Glass nods... steps down off the boat to Henry and the
others. They're gathered around a map spread out on the
ground. Henry runs his finger along a THIN BLUE LINE.
HENRY
So we hike west to the Grand, then
follow it up to Fort Union.
FITZGERALD
On foot? You got any idea how long
that's gonna take? It'll be winter
before we get there.
ANDERSON
Unless we come across a post...
trade for some horses.
9.
GLASS
No posts that far out.
FITZGERALD
So if we do this, we do every step
with our own feet.
HENRY
We make camp here for the night,
then load supplies and head out for
the Grand at first light.
(BEAT)
And gather extra blankets `cause
there won't be any fires.
More GRUMBLING from Fitzgerald and Anderson, as they move
toward the cover of trees. Bridger walks up beside Glass.
BRIDGER
Thank you... for what you done back
there.
GLASS
You'd have done the same for me.
Bridger nods... he hopes so.
EXT. WOODS - NIGHT
Pig on watch... sitting at the base of a tree, rifle across
his lap, eyes wide, scanning the darkness. All clear. He
peers back to camp... Fitzgerald, Anderson, Stubby Bill, and
Murphy wrapped in blankets... passing a bottle of whiskey
around. Bridger across from Fitzgerald, poking at the dirt
with a stick. Henry is off to one side, still studying that
map. Glass sits against a tree, cleaning his Anstadt rifle.
Fitzgerald watches Glass a beat, then...
FITZGERALD
You treat that Anstadt sweeter than
any woman, Glass.
STUBBY BILL
Never seen a woman that could stop
a `Ree from three hundred feet.
ANDERSON
I knew a particular big-breasted
redhead in Boston that might come
close.
10.
The others manage a small laugh. Glass just keeps working on
that rifle.
FITZGERALD
Bring it over here for me to have a
look.
Glass doesn't look up... wipes a rag down the barrel.
FITZGERALD (CONT'D)
Did you hear what I said, boy?
Still nothing from Glass. And Fitzgerald doesn't like
that... the tension's growing.
BRIDGER
(MUMBLING)
You seen it before.
Fitzgerald turns that mean, drunken glare on Bridger.
FITZGERALD
What'd you say, kid?
Bridger hesitates a beat... until the other men's eyes force
a response.
BRIDGER
(SOFTLY)
I said you shoulda already got a
look when he saved you with it
earlier.
The camp falls still... nobody talks to Fitzgerald like
that... especially when he's drunk. There isn't a sound
except for Glass working methodically on his rifle...
...until the SWISH OF BLADE OVER LEATHER, as Fitzgerald tears
the blade from his belt... flings it into the dirt between
Bridger's legs... AN INCH BELOW HIS CROTCH.
Fitzgerald stares at Bridger, daring him to react. But
Bridger's too scared... doesn't, so Fitzgerald just smiles.
FITZGERALD
You're lucky you ain't a man yet.
(off the blade)
Else that mighta nicked somethin'.
A few NERVOUS CHUCKLES from the others, hoping this is over.
And it is, because Fitzgerald reaches over and pulls the
knife away... cleans the dirty blade on Bridger's leg.
11.
FITZGERALD (CONT'D)
And unlike you, I don't need savin'
by him or nobody else. Remember
that.
Fitzgerald stands... wobbles just a bit. He slides the knife
back into his belt, then steadies his drunken gaze on Glass.
The others exchange nervous glances... uh-oh.
Fitzgerald walks to Glass... snaps his fingers for Glass'
Anstadt.
FITZGERALD (CONT'D)
Lemme see what's so special `bout
that shooter of yours.
Nothing from Glass, so Fitzgerald grabs the barrel, but Glass
holds firm.
GLASS
Middle of workin' on it.
FITZGERALD
Well you can stop workin' on it,
and let me have a look like I said.
Fitzgerald gives another tug, but Glass' grip only grows
tighter. His eyes roll up to Fitzgerald... make it clear he
isn't giving up his rifle. And they hold that stare just as
hard as they're holding Glass' rifle.
FITZGERALD (CONT'D)
You forget your place?
GLASS
Best I can tell, my place is right
where I want it... on the smart end
of my rifle.
Fitzgerald realizes the barrel he's holding is aimed right at
his stomach, while Glass' hand seems suddenly very close to
the trigger. But Fitzgerald's pride and that whiskey won't
let him lose this tug of war.
FITZGERALD
I'd be careful if I was you, boy.
And this thing's about to turn real ugly... until...
HENRY
That's enough, Fitzgerald. Go
sober up and get to sleep.
(MORE)
12.
HENRY(CONT'D)
If you're passed out when we break
camp tomorrow, I leave you here.
Fitzgerald holds his glare on Glass, then releases the rifle,
shoving it back at Glass. He glances to Henry, and throws
back a big gulp from the bottle just for spite, before
backing away from Glass.
FITZGERALD
That's the trouble with this part
of the world. No mirrors. Niggers
forget what color they are.
Glass ignores Fitzgerald... goes back to his rifle.
Fitzgerald tosses the bottle at Anderson, then jerks his
blanket up... walks off to sleep by himself.
Glass glances up from his work... just long enough to give
Bridger a nod.
EXT. CAMP - LATER
Fitzgerald sleeping off that whiskey. The others snoring in
a cluster at the center of the camp. Henry lies there
awake... looks across to Glass, still sitting against the
tree, a HANDRAWN MAP in his lap, as his eyes pierce the
darkness. Henry eases over to Glass.
HENRY
Can't sleep either?
GLASS
Never like closin' my eyes when I'm
not sure who'll be standin' over me
when I open `em.
HENRY
I keep thinking about Boone and the
others... how maybe I should've had
us make camp further up river.
GLASS
The tracks I saw... those `Ree had
been tailin' us for a while. They'd
have gone as far north as it took.
(BEAT)
You're a good man, Captain. Soon
as you realize that, these others
will too.
Henry likes hearing that... still isn't sure it's true.
13.
HENRY
Your years trappin' and guidin' out
here... have you had much
experience with the Arikara?
GLASS
Enough to try and stay outta their
way.
HENRY
(motions to Glass' map)
But you know this country well
enough to get us past them... up to
Fort Union?
GLASS
I been here a long while. Whether
that gets us to Union or not...
Henry waits for more... doesn't get it. So he just nods and
starts back to his blanket.... stops.
HENRY
What Fitzgerald said earlier... he
doesn't speak for the rest.
GLASS
He wasn't wrong. Truth is that's
what I prefer about this country...
it's got no eye for the color of a
man's skin.
HENRY
(BEAT)
Try to get some sleep, Hugh.
Henry climbs back under his blanket. Glass just sits there
looking at the map.
ANGLE ON GLASS' MAP...
...primitive at best. Sketched mountains... winding blue
lines for rivers... small dots are scattered about with names
beside them... "Brazeau", "Talbot", "Union". And DOZENS OF
TRIANGLE PINE TREES have been drawn, representing the endless
wilderness.
We TIGHTEN ON THOSE TRIANGLES until we're lost in them.
DISSOLVE TO:
14.
EXT. WILDERNESS - DAY
Thick with trees. Henry leads the men single file through
the woods. They each have a canvas sack of supplies over one
shoulder, and their rifle in their hands.
The only sound is their feet crunching the dried leaves, and
even that seems too loud as their eyes dart about, searching
for any sign of attack.
STUBBY BILL
Shouldn't we have hit the Grand by
now?
HENRY
We'll reach it soon enough. Glass
said to keep this course.
FITZGERALD
Glass said. Too bad I don't see
him.
PIG
That's on account he's up ahead
makin' sure it's clear, and you get
to keep your ears.
Fitzgerald throws Pig an angry glance.
FITZGERALD
Or he's run off and left us.
BRIDGER
He wouldn't do that.
Fitzgerald GRUNTS... doesn't believe that.
FITZGERALD
My bet, that nigger's used to
runnin'.
EXT. WOODS - DAY
Glass moves slowly through the brush, almost gliding...
subtle twists and turns to avoid branches and leaves...
careful not to leave his scent behind. And his eyes cut
through the trees as he moves... digging for any sign of
movement.
He spots something at his feet... crouches down, running his
finger over the SMALL ANIMAL TRACK in the dirt.
15.
O.S. RUSTLING snaps his head up... to the TREMBLING OF
BUSHES... growing harder... whatever's in there is coming
toward Glass. He calmly raises his rifle... presses the
stock firmly against his shoulder... closes one eye as he
takes steady aim down the long barrel...
...to the shapes rumbling out of the brush... TWO BEAR CUBS
playfully wrestling.
Glass lowers the Anstadt... looks past the cubs for something
else... but the woods are empty. A SUDDEN FEAR FILLS GLASS'
EYES...
...he spins... right into the GIANT GRIZZLY SWINGING ITS PAW
AT HIM... hitting him across the side of the neck. The
animal's razor claws tear into Glass' throat, as the force
sends him flying through the air.
Glass sails into a thick tree... the CRACK OF HIS LEG
SNAPPING against the trunk. The rifle falls from his hand.
The Grizzly lets out a massive ROAR... charges Glass. Glass
crawls to the Anstadt... grabs it... has just enough time to
tilt the rifle toward the bear... BOOM.
CUT TO:
HENRY - HEARING THE BLAST.
HENRY
UP AHEAD!
Henry takes off at full sprint. The other men follow.
CUT TO:
GLASS - AS THE BEAR LEAPS ON TOP OF HIM...
...tosses Glass aside with a powerful swing. Glass hits the
ground with a PAINFUL THUD. He starts CRAWLING AWAY, pulling
the KNIFE from his belt as the bear rises up like a giant
behind him... swings... tears its claws across Glass's back,
shredding deep into his flesh.
Glass is fighting for his life now... flailing with the
knife... slicing it across the bear's paw as it whips past
him. The wound slows the bear enough for Glass to start
crawling again.
But the Grizzly doesn't give Glass the chance... ROARS... is
on him in a flash, a BLUR OF CLAWS AND FANGS... tearing
across Glass' head... ripping into his face... his chest.
16.
Glass drives his knife into the bear again... deep... trying
to tear through the layers of flesh to something more vital.
CUT TO:
HENRY - LEADING THE CHARGE THROUGH THE FOREST.
CUT TO:
GLASS AND THE GRIZZLY - FIGHTING THIS EPIC BATTLE...
...locked in a death grip... tumbling along the ground...
trading violent blows... Glass' blade versus the Grizzly's
claws and fangs... snapping small trees as they roll over
them... toward the edge of a steep embankment...
... and ROLL DOWN... spinning over and over... each ROARING
AT THE OTHER... Glass pounding the knife into the bear again
and again as they fall... neither willing to surrender as
they careen down the slope at a dizzying pace, then SLAM TO
THE BOTTOM WITH A CRUNCH. And the forest falls still...
Glass hidden somewhere beneath the massive animal... both
deathly motionless.
EXT. WOODS - DAY
Bridger's the first to reach the battleground... sees the TWO
FRIGHTENED BEAR CUBS SCURRY AWAY. He follows the bloody
ground and crushed underbrush to the top of the slope...
looks down to the mass of flesh at the bottom.
BRIDGER
Christ Almighty.
Henry, Pig, and the others reach the edge.
HENRY
Glass!
No answer. And all they can see is the bear, so they scan
the trees.
PIG
HUGH!
Still nothing. So Bridger takes off down the slope... losing
his balance but rolling back to his feet. He reaches the
bear... sees GLASS' MANGLED ARM STICKING OUT FROM BENEATH IT.
17.
BRIDGER
He's down here!
Bridger uses all his strength to push the bear off, as the
other men scramble down. But Bridger can't budge the massive
carcass... not until Stubby Bill and Pig join in... shove the
animal over, revealing the bloody mass that is Hugh Glass...
...his throat is torn wide open... scalp peeled back from
just above his eyebrows, hanging off the skull... stomach and
chest a gruesome design of gashes and cuts. His right leg
is snapped, the jagged bone jutting out through the skin.
Bridger's legs give out... he drops to a knee and vomits.
MURPHY
Oh, Jesus.
STUBBY BILL
He's tore to pieces.
The men stare down at Glass' corpse.
ANDERSON
Least he took that Grizz down with
him.
FITZGERALD
Wished he'da done it without firing
his rifle. If there wasn't no `Ree
around before, there will be now.
And that's all Pig can stand... he TACKLES FITZGERALD... they
roll to the ground. And in a flash Fitzgerald is on top,
raining punches down on Pig... turning his face into a bloody
mess.
Henry and Anderson grab Fitzgerald... drag him off.
HENRY
THAT'S ENOUGH!
Then somehow, GLASS GASPS... this horrible, GUTTURAL MOAN.
BRIDGER
Holy Christ, he's alive.
Henry and Bridger fall to their knees beside Glass. Glass
looks up at the men, tries to focus through the blood and
pain. His breathing is just a GURGLING WHEEZE... bubbles
forming along the deep gashes in his throat with each gasp.
18.
HENRY
Get me some water.
Stubby Bill tosses Henry his canteen. Henry empties it over
Glass' throat... his face and scalp. The water hits the
wounds and immediately transforms to blood.
BRIDGER
Oh, Jesus... Jesus.
Glass lifts a trembling hand to his throat... feels the
gaping wound. His eyes widen in horror. He COUGHS... the
air splashes blood up from the open wounds in his throat.
HENRY
It's okay, Hugh.
(pushing Glass' hand away)
You're going to be fine.
Henry spins his head away from Glass.
HENRY (CONT'D)
(WHISPERS)
I need some rags before he bleeds
out.
Pig whips a shirt from his bag... shreds it.
HENRY (CONT'D)
And your whiskey.
Pig tosses a bottle to Henry. Henry pours it over the
gashes. The BURNING PAIN arches Glass... he CRIES OUT in
that same horrific moan.
HENRY (CONT'D)
Hold him down, Bridger, goddammit.
Bridger throws his weight against Glass' shoulders.
HENRY (CONT'D)
The rest of you spread out... scout
a circle around us. Fitzgerald,
you and Anderson take west and
north. Murphy and Mike south and
east. Watch for anyone that
might've heard that shot.