ARCTIC BLUE

Eric mimics Corbett's moves and follows the same path.

Unable to grasp the rocks effectively, he stops and takes

his gloves off. Continuing, he winces -- the rock is cold

and sharp. His hands are soon numb and bloody. Even in the

dry, below-freezing air, Eric is sweating.

He looks down and hangs on more tightly. Sliding to level

ground two hundred feet below would pummel him to hamburger.

Corbett pauses and rests his cheek against the rocks. Eric

is right above him.

(CONTINUED)

106 CONTINUED:

Suddenly, Corbett's foot slips. His right hand

instinctively goes for a hold. The dangling handcuffs snare

on a protuberance, knocking him off balance.

The fulcrum of Corbett's body leans out into the empty air.

Eric moves down a little, braces himself and extends his

leg, giving Corbett something to grab. Corbett takes hold

of Eric's shoe and tries to teeter back against the rock

wall. Adrenaline screams through Eric's system.

Corbett looks up at Eric. A careless move will send them

both tumbling. Eric clutches harder at the rocks and waits

for the worst.

After a long moment, Corbett regains his balance and lets go

of Eric's foot. He continues his descent. Eric lets out

his breath and tries to swallow. His mouth is as dry as the

granite.

CUT TO:

107 EXT. TREELINE - LATER THAT DAY

Handcuffed again, Corbett hikes in front of Eric along the

top of some foothills. Now and again he glances behind,

gauging Eric's weariness, waiting for a moment's

carelessness. Around them there is heavy vegetation now --

snow-covered sedge tussocks, knee-deep muskeg and twisted

thickets that are treacherous and slow to tramp through.

Above them, ominous clouds and sharp, cold winds are coming

down from the north.

But below, a mile ahead, the edge of the forest is like the

hem of a great green garment stretching endlessly southward.

The combination of altitude and latitude creates an

amazingly sharp topographical dividing line. Within a few

thousand yards, the landscape abruptly changes from scrub

brush to thick coniferous forest.

CORBETT

Better get into those trees

before that squall blows down.

Then, Corbett pauses as a walloping sound ECHOES across the

foothills.

Just ahead, two enormous bull moose are fighting. They ram

each other with six-foot-wide antlers.

Corbett stares, transfixed, admiring.

CORBETT

You talk about ecology -- there

it is.

(CONTINUED)

107 CONTINUED:

Eric turns, surprised at Corbett's unabashed awe.

Catching the men's smell the moose bound away, and the spell

is broken.

108 EXT. MINING SETTLEMENT - EVENING

Viking Bob, Mitchell and LeMalle head somberly back to

Cache. They drive along a hydraulic gold mining sluice on a

nearby river and come into town.

As the trappers park their jeep, some MINERS greet them,

shouting over the ROAR of the water.

MINER #1

Where's Ben at?

MITCHELL

You'll want to hear about it with

a drink in your mitt.

CUT TO:

109 INT. BEAR SIGN INN - CACHE - EVENING

Outside, a STORM rages. LeMalle is drunk, but still able to

stuff himself with a thick steak. Mitchell drums his

fingers and listens to everyone talk. With them at the bar

are the Miners, LOGGERS, CAT SKINNERS (bulldozer drivers)

and some leathery WOMEN.

MINER #1

...Figures, Corbett getting

hauled off by a Federal marshal.

God almighty, how I hate the U.S.

government.

LOGGER

We should pass a hat. Send

Corbett a few bucks. We owe him.

Someone's hat comes off. It quickly gets filled with bills.

MINER #1

Government and business. They

ruined this state.

(re Meyerling poster)

Like that little weasel, for

instance.

WOMAN CAT DRIVER

'People's Friend,' my lily-white

-more-

(CONTINUED)

109 CONTINUED:

WOMAN CAT DRIVER (Cont'd)

butt. I heard Northland got a

conservation program, up along

the pipeline.

LOGGER

Hold it. Meyerling told me that

stuff's nothing but P.R. for the

TV and papers down in Juneau.

LEMALLE

He's full of shit. We got run

out of there by some fuckhead

driving a Northland truck.

NEW ANGLE

Viking Bob hurries in and whispers something in Mitchell's

ear. Mitchell shoots LeMalle a look and gets up. The

threesome hastily exit, leaving behind the hat full of

money.

110 INT. BEAR SIGN INN

Viking Bob, Mitchell and LeMalle stand in a quiet corner

near the front door.

VIKING BOB

I called the cops in Fairbanks,

see when Ben is standing trial.

They don't know shit about Ben or

Wilder!

LEMALLE

Get the fuck out of here.

VIKING BOB

It's a three-hour flight. They

shoulda got there yesterday.

LEMALLE

Maybe they went back to Devil's

Cauldron.

MITCHELL

Naah, Wilder knows we got friends

in town.

VIKING BOB

That plane might've been to throw

us off the track. Remember the

bait-and-switch Wilder pulled

with the Eskimo and his truck?

(CONTINUED)

110 CONTINUED:

LEMALLE

Wilder still woulda made

Fairbanks by now. Fuck a duck!

Ben musta got loose.

VIKING BOB

Okay, let's backtrack, try to

pick up his trail. You know the

kid out on the pipeline that

Wilder's buddies with?

MITCHELL

(smiles)

We were just talking about him.

111 EXT. FOREST - CAMPSITE PREPARATION MONTAGE - EVENING

The STORM brings gusting winds and below-zero temperatures.

Eric and Corbett move through the storm in slow motion.

Both recognize the need for a truce in the face of a common

enemy. The snow and wind cut through their clothing like

razors. They poke around for dead wood with which to make a

fire. The trees are small and healthy; little is found.

CORBETT

(shouts over WIND)

Just gather birch. It'll smoke

like hell, but it'll burn green.

Awestruck by the intensity of the storm, Eric tears branches

from birch trees and piles them in Corbett's handcuffed

arms.

They hurry back to the nylon tarp, strung between two tree

trunks, FLAPPING violently in the storm. Hunching against

the wind, Eric pulls off his gloves and reaches in his

pocket for some precious matches. His fingers are so cold

he can't hold them, and he drops several in the wet snow.

Angry, he shoots a look at Corbett. Corbett is holding his

hands inside his coat. He pulls them out and quickly takes

the remaining matches from Eric.

Crouching down, back to the wind, Corbett grasps a match

between his numb fingers and awkwardly strikes it. He holds

the flame next to the kindling. It doesn't catch fire

immediately. Corbett lets the match burn out against his

fingers. He tries another match. This time, a flame takes

hold but could succumb to the wind at any moment.

On his knees and elbows, Corbett nurses along the tiny fire.

Eric can't control his shivering. He gets on his knees next

to Corbett and holds his coat open to further baffle the

wind. Corbett keeps his hands cupped around the flame, not

(CONTINUED)

111 CONTINUED:

caring that it's burning his skin. Finally the fire begins

to grow. Relieved, Eric and Corbett look at each other with

a glimmer of a grudging mutual respect.

The fire, now unattended, is smoky as Corbett predicted, but

burns along nicely.

END MONTAGE

112 EXT. / INT. NYLON SHELTER - NIGHT

Corbett and Eric sit under the nylon shelter. The STORM

rages outside. Eric empties his pockets of Eskimo potato,

reindeer lichens, bistsort sorrel and other plants for his

dinner.

Corbett has fashioned a snare from his boot laces and a tree

branch, and placed some crushed roots as aromatic bait next

to a small animal burrow outside the shelter. A squirrel

sticks his nose out of the burrow to investigate.

Corbett sits catlike, ready to pounce. Eric grimaces as

Corbett yanks on the snare and the squirrel's SQUEALS (OS)

abruptly cease.

113 INT. NYLON SHELTER

Corbett pulls his dead dinner inside.

CORBETT

I need your pocket knife.

(Eric hesitates)

I have to eat, too.

After a beat, Eric pulls open the small blade on his Swiss

Army knife and pushes it with his foot to Corbett. Smiling,

Corbett admires the fancy knife. Then, BELOW FRAME, he

skins and guts his catch.

CORBETT

(continuing)

Damn lucky this storm didn't blow

down when we were on those

baldheaded mountains. It

continues, we better stay put.

ERIC

It could blow over tomorrow, too.

CORBETT

I'm still figuring: You're either

real brave or real dumb.

(CONTINUED)

113 CONTINUED:

ERIC

I just want this over with.

CORBETT

(laughs)

Where in hell Meyerling dig you

up?

ERIC

You know Meyerling?

CORBETT

Sure. The People's Friend. Kiss

your ass with precision if

there's a vote in it.

Corbett eats the squirrel Eskimo-style. Raw. He uses the

knife like a native, too, holding the meat in his teeth,

then expertly cutting off a mouthful with a quick slice.

Eric stares, disgusted. Off his look:

CORBETT

(continuing)

Always eat your meat raw when the

weather's cold. Does you more

good, long as the entrails look

clean.

Corbett uses snow and the squirrel's fur to wipe the blood

from his face, then wipes the knife off and lays it, open,

next to his leg.

ERIC

I'll hold onto that.

With a wry smile, Corbett pushes it back over to Eric.

While Eric eats his dinner, Corbett listens to the STORM and

watches him eat.

CORBETT

Sure love to know where you fit

in up here.

ERIC

I'm here to do my job.

CORBETT

You want to fool yourself about

that bullshit job, fine. Damn

shame you have to drag your

girlfriend along. You think a

woman like that will be happy

making moose stew for a man

-more-

(CONTINUED)

113 CONTINUED: (2)

CORBETT (Cont'd)

making your salary? Look, I'll

give you five grand. Take the

money and go home where you both

belong.

ERIC

Don't fucking insult me.

Corbett smiles -- maybe he's beginning to understand Eric.

CORBETT

Folks come to Alaska for a real

short list of reasons: Money.

Adventure. Solitude. Those

cover most everyone. But

frontiers also draw another type

of man. One with a demon in his

gut. He comes to the edge of the

world to face that demon, and lay

it to rest.

ERIC

Yeah?

CORBETT

Yep. Sometimes they do, but

usually they end up crazy or

dead.

Eric ponders Corbett's words as he eats.

114 INT. THE TURTLE - NIGHT

Anne Marie is frantic with worry. She has the AM/FM RADIO

on for company.

RADIO (VO)

...This is "Tundra Topics" on

KFAR. Remember, as the nights

get longer, be sure to stay on a

regular sleep schedule. The

depression from the coming of

winter that doctors call

'Seasonal Affective Disorder' --

or 'Arctic Blue' to us lay folk

-- is preventable.

Anne Marie tunes the radio to "Pipeline of the North" on

KIAK.

(CONTINUED)

114 CONTINUED:

RADIO (VO)

(continuing)

...John Byers was hospitalized in

Fairbanks today for an infection

in an abscessed tooth. Mr. Byers

had a toothache and attempted to

remove the tooth himself with a

pair of pliers...

Suddenly, a BUMP rocks the Turtle. Someone is outside.

Startled, Anne Marie turns the lights off and looks out the

window.

No sign of a vehicle or a person. As she pulls on her

parka, she glances at the big rifle leaning against the

wall, but doesn't touch it.

115 EXT. THE TURTLE

Her visitor, whoever it is, is behind the Turtle. Anne

Marie cautiously rounds the corner and stops dead.

NEW ANGLE

A foraging GRIZZLY sniffs around, attracted by the smell of

fresh carrion -- Wilder. Eight feet tall and eleven-hundred

pounds, it's used to having its way. Right now, it's

hungry.

With a casual swipe of its paw, its massive claws puncture

the Turtle's aluminum skin, popping open the door of the

utility compartment. The bear pokes its head inside, and

Wilder's body slumps out into the snow. The bear pushes at

the corpse with its snout. Salivating, it prepares to dig

in.

Anne Marie looks around, wondering what the hell to do nEXT.

Wilder's snowmobile is a few yards behind her, parked

against the side of the Turtle. She inches toward it.

Testily, the bear looks up, SNIFFING loudly.

Keeping her eyes on the bear, Anne Marie feels for the

snowmobile ignition keys. They're not there. She feels

around inside the saddlebags and finds three emergency road

flares.

Anne Marie IGNITES the flares. They illuminate the area

with an eerie reddish glow. She YELLS at the bear, wields

the flares like Excalibur and moves forward.

The bear, reluctant to leave so hearty a pre-hibernation

meal, GROWLS and cocks its head back and forth to assess the

threat. As Anne Marie inches ahead, the bear stands on hind

legs to its full height to meet the challenge.

(CONTINUED)

115 CONTINUED:

Anne Marie tosses a flare toward the bear. It grunts when

the flare hits it, and shuffles backwards. Anne Marie

throws another flare. With a ROAR from hell, the bear

charges. Anne Marie falls back. Still holding the last

flare, she's forced into a crawl space under the Turtle.

ANGLE - UNDER THE TURTLE

Anne Marie tries to squeeze out the other side, but she's

pinned in by the unevenness of the hard ground. The bear

swipes at her, its huge paw inches away. Anne Marie jabs at

the paw with the flare, but that only makes the bear more

quarrelsome.

She twists around, looking for a defense. Above her is the

cabling from the generator to the circuit box for the

Turtle's electrical system. She tugs at it, but it won't

budge. The bear SNIFFS at Anne Marie with its big wet

snout. Anne Marie notices warning a sign on a control

valve:

? DANGER!!

? BLACK WATER

? UNTREATED SEWAGE

Grimacing, she tries to turn the valve. After much effort,

it SNAPS and opens, releasing a stream of fetid sewage.

WIDER