INT. CAVE OF SWIMMERS. TORCHLIGHT
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Katharine has been writing in the Herodotus. The torchlight FLICKERS as it illuminates some words--Drag myself outside is legible, then We die, we die. She shakes the torch. It FLICKERS again. |
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Then goes out. Absolute BLACKNESS.
The sound of her trembling breath, of her terror.
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EXT. EL TAJ STREET. DAY
Almásy, head pounding, is in the back of the Jeep, chained to the tailgate. He's desperate. The Corporal is driving.
ALMÁSY (shouting, hoarse): Stop the car. Please. A woman is dying!
CORPORAL: Listen, Fritz, if I have to listen to another word from you, I'm going to give you a ... good hiding.
ALMÁSY: Fritz? What are you talking about? Fritz?
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CORPORAL: That's your name innit? Count ... Arsehole Von Birsmarck? What's that supposed to be then, Irish? Almásy, berserk, starts to yank at his chains, screaming. ALMÁSY: Please! You have to listen! Please, listen to me--Katharine! Katharine! |
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EXT. RAILWAY TRACK, THE DESERT. EVENING
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Almásy, silhouetted
against the evening sky, hobbles back down the track, THREE HUNDRED
MILES AWAY from the dying Katharine Clifton, no way now of saving her.
He is a tiny speck in the vast desert. His heart is broken. He sinks
to his knees in despair.
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INT. CAVE OF SWIMMERS. TORCHLIGHT
A flashlight flickers in the cave. ALMÁSY APPEARS.
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KATHARINE'S CORPSE lies where he left her--a ghost on a bed of silk and blankets. The chill of the cave has preserved her. She could be asleep. |
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ALMÁSY: Katharine. He sobs, whispering to her. He's terribly cold, exhausted. He slips underneath. |
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