he so-called Storm of the Century is history in New England now folks from New Bedford to New Hope are digging out from beneath snowfall amounts that have added not just new entries but new pages to the record books.

The REPORTER begins to ski slowly down Main Street, past the drugstore, the hardware store, the Handy Bob Restaurant, the Tie-Up Lounge, the beauty parlor.

TV REPORTER

They're digging out everywhere, that is, except here, on Little Tall Island a little scrap of land off the coast of Maine and home to almost four hundred souls, according to the last census. About half the population sought shelter on the mainland when it became clear that this storm was really going to hit, and hit hard. That number includes most of the island's schoolchildren in grades K through high school. But nearly all the rest . . . two hundred men and women and young children . . . are gone. The exceptions are even more ominous and distressing.

208 EXTERIOR: THE REMAINS OF THE TOWN DOCK DAY.

Teams of grim-faced EMERGENCY MEDICAL TECHNICIANS are carrying four stretchers down to the POLICE BOAT that has tied up to the stump of the dock. Each stretcher bears a zipped body bag.

TV REPORTER (voice-over) Four corpses have been found so far on Little Tall Island.

STORM OF THE CENTURY 229

Two of them may have been suicides, police sources say, but the other two are almost certainly murder victims, bludgeoned to death by what was probably the same blunt object.

209 EXTERIOR: RESUME MAIN STREET, WITH REPORTER.

Oh-oh. He's still wearing the purple ski suit, still clean-cut and as chipper as a chickadee, but the purple gloves have been replaced by bright yellow ones. If we didn't recognize LINOGE before and hopefully we didn't we do now.

TV REPORTER

(LINOGE)

Identities of the dead have been withheld pending notification of next of kin, but all are said to be longtime island residents. And baffled police are asking themselves one question, over and over: Where are the other residents of Little Tall Island? Where is Robert Beals, the town manager? Where is Michael Anderson, who owned the island market and served as Little Tail's constable? Where is fourteen-year-old Davey Hopewell, who was at home, recovering from a bout of mononucleosis, when the big one hit? Where are the shopkeepers, the fishermen, the town selectmen? No one knows. There has only been one case like this before, in all of American history.

210 INTERIOR: MOLLY ANDERSON, SLEEPING, CLOSE-UP NIGHT. Her eyes move rapidly back and forth beneath her closed lids.

211 INSERT: A DRAWING OF AN EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY VILLAGE.

WOMAN TV REPORTER (voice-over)

This is how the village of Roanoke, Virginia, looked in 1587, before everyone disappeared every man, woman, and child. Their fate has never been discovered. A single possible clue was discovered, a word found carved on a tree

212 INSERT: A WOODCUT OF AN ELM TREE. Carved into the bark is the word "CROATON."

WOMAN TV REPORTER (voice-over) this word. "Croaton." The name of a place? A misspelling?

230 STEPHEN KING

A word written in a language lost over the centuries? No one knows that, either.

213 EXTERIOR: RESUME MAIN STREET, WITH WOMAN TV REPORTER.

She is very pretty in her purple Therma-Pak ski suit; it goes well with her long blonde hair, flushed cheeks . . . and her BRIGHT YELLOW GLOVES. Yes, it's LINOGE again, now speaking in a woman's voice and looking very pretty. This isn't transvestism played for laughs, but a guy who really looks like a young woman and speaks with a woman's voice. This is deadly serious.

This reporter has picked up exactly where ROBBIE'S version left off, now doing a walk-and-talk (a walk-and-ski, in this case) up Main Street, toward the town hall.

WOMAN TV REPORTER

(LINOGE)

Police continue to assure reporters that a solution will be found, but even they are not able to deny one essential fact: hope is dimming for the missing residents of Little Tall Island.

She skis on toward the town hall, which is also buried in drifts.

WOMAN TV REPORTER

(LINOGE)

Evidence suggests that most or all of the islanders spent the first and worst night of the storm here, in the basement of the Little Tall Island Town Hall. After that ... no one knows. One wonders if there was anything they could have done to change their strange fate.

She skis onto what would be the town hall lawn in summer, toward the little cupola with the bell inside. THE CAMERA REMAINS STATIONARY now, watching her go.

214 INTERIOR: DAVEY HOPEWELL, CLOSE-UP.

Sleeping uneasily. Eyeballs moving. Dreaming while the WIND SHRIEKS OUTSIDE.

*

STORM OF THE CENTURY 231

215 EXTERIOR: IN FRONT OF THE TOWN HALL DAY.

The REPORTER in the purple ski suit reaches the cupola, and even with his back to us, we can tell that DAVEY'S version of the REPORTER is a man. He turns. He is BALDING, BESPECTACLED, wearing a MUSTACHE ... but it's LINOGE again.

TV REPORTER

(LINOGE)

One wonders if, in their insular selfishness and Yankee pride, they refused to give something . . . some simple thing . . . that would have changed matters for them. To this reporter, that seems more than possible; it seems plausible. Do they regret it now? (pause) Are any of them alive to regret it? What really happened in Roanoke, in 1587? And what happened here, on Little Tall Island, in 1989? We may never know. But I know one thing, Davey you're too damn short to play basketball . . . and besides, you couldn't throw it in the ocean.

DAVEY'S version of the REPORTER makes a half-turn and reaches into the shadowy cupola. Here is the memorial bell, only in DAVEY'S dream, it's not a bell. What the REPORTER brings out is a BLOODSTAINED BASKETBALL, and he heaves it DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA. As he does this, his lips part in a grin, revealing teeth that are really FANGS.

TV REPORTER

Catch!

216 INTERIOR: RESUME DAVEY, IN THE TOWN HALL BASEMENT NIGHT.

Moaning, he turns back the other way. His hands come up briefly, as if to ward off the basketball.

DAVEY No ... no ...

217 INTERIOR: THE TV AREA OF THE BASEMENT, FEATURING MIKE NIGHT.

His head is dropped and limp, but his eyeballs are moving behind his closed lids, and like the others, he is DREAMING.

232 STEPHEN KING

PREACHER (voice)

Be sure that your sin will find you out, and that your secrets will be known. All secrets will be known . . .

218 INTERIOR: PREACHER ON SNOWY TV, CLOSE-UP.

Yes, now we see it; the TV PREACHER is LINOGE, too.

PREACHER

(continues)

. . . can you say "hallelujah"? Oh, brethern, can you say "amen"? For I ask you to behold the sting of sin and the price of vice; I ask you to behold the just end of those who bar the door to the wandering stranger who comes, asking so little.

THE CAMERA MOVES IN on the SNOWY TV. THE PREACHER melts into DARKNESS ... but a snowy DARKNESS, because the wind has blown down the town hall antenna and there's no good reception. Only now a PICTURE starts to appear, anyway. The snow is real snow now, snow that's a part of the Storm of the Century, and PEOPLE are moving in it a dark snake-dance line of PEOPLE floundering their slow way down Atlantic Street Hill.

219 INTERIOR: ATLANTIC STREET, CLOSER NIGHT.

PREACHER (voice-over) For the wages of lust are dust, and the wages of sin are death.

Passing us is a nightmare procession of DAZED, HYPNOTIZED ISLANDERS in their nightclothes, oblivious of the HOWLING WIND and SHEETING SNOW. We see ANGELA with little BUSTER in her arms; followed by MOLLY, in her nightgown and carrying RALPHIE; followed by GEORGE KIRBY . . . FERD ANDREWS . . . ROBERTA COIGN . . . well, you get it. They're all here. And tattooed on each forehead is that strange and ominous word: CROATON.

PREACHER (voice-over)

For if the supplicant is turned away and the seeker given no respite, shall not the hard-hearted be sent hence?

STORM OF THE CENTURY 233

220 INTERIOR: MIKE, CLOSE-UP.

MIKE

(sleeping) Hallelujah. Amen.

221 INTERIOR: THE STUMP OF THE TOWN DOCK.

They march toward THE CAMERA and their death in the frigid ocean like lemmings. We don't believe it ... and yet we do, don't we? After Jonestown and Heaven's Gate, we do.

ROBBIE

(first in line) I'm sorry we didn't give you what you wanted.

He topples off the jagged end of the dock and into the ocean.

ORV BOUCHER

(second in line) Sorry we didn't give it to you, Mr. Linoge.

He follows ROBBIE into the ocean. Next is ANGIE and BUSTER.

ANGIE CARVER I'm sorry. We both are, aren't we, Buster?

With the child in her arms, ANGELA steps from the pier. Next is MOLLY, with RALPHIE.

222 INTERIOR: RESUME MIKE, IN THE TV AREA.

He is growing steadily more restive ... as who would not, if subjected to such an awful dream as this?

MIKE No . . . no, Molly . . .

PREACHER (voice-over)

For so little is asked of you, can you say "hallelujah" . . . and yet if you harden your hearts and stop up the porches of your ears, you must pay. You must be branded as one of the ungrateful and sent hence.

234 STEPHEN KING

223 EXTERIOR: MOLLY, ON THE PIER NIGHT.

She is as hypnotized as the rest, but RALPHIE is awake and afraid.

MOLLY

We hardened our hearts. We closed our ears. And now we pay. I'm sorry, Mr. Linoge

RALPHIE

Daddy! Daddy, help!

MOLLY we should have given you what you wanted.

She goes over the edge and into the black water with RALPHIE SCREAMING in her arms.

224 INTERIOR: THE TV AREA, WITH MIKE NIGHT. He snaps awake, GASPING. Looks at the TV.

225 INTERIOR: TV, FROM MIKE'S POINT OF VIEW.

Nothing but snow. The station has either lost its tower to the storm or ceased broadcasting for the night.

226 INTERIOR: RESUME MIKE.

He sits upright, trying to get his breath back.

SONNY BRAUTIGAN

Mike?

SONNY lumbers over, looking disheveled and puffy with sleep, his hair sticking up in the back.

SONNY

Man, I just had the most awful dream . . . this reporter . . .

Now UPTON BELL joins them.

UPTON

On Main Street . . . talkin' about how everybody was gone . . .

STORM OF THE CENTURY 235 He stops. He and SONNY look at each other in mutual amazement.

SONNY

Like in this little town in Virginia, a long time ago.

MELINDA (voice)

No one knew where they went . . . and in the dream, no one knew where we went.

They look toward the draw curtains. MELINDA is standing there in her nightgown.

MELINDA

They're all dreaming it. Do you understand? They are all dreaming what we dreamed!

She looks back toward:

227 INTERIOR: THE SLEEPING AREA NIGHT.

The sleepers are in SLOW, TWISTY MOTION on their cots. They moan and protest without waking.

228 INTERIOR: RESUME TV AREA.

MELINDA But where could two hundred people disappear to?

SONNY and UPTON shake their heads. TESS conies halfway down the stairs. Her hair is mussed; she still looks half asleep.

TESS MARCHANT

Especially on a little island, cut off by a big storm . . .

MIKE gets up and snaps off the TV.

MIKE

Into the ocean.

What?

MELINDA (shocked)

236 STEPHEN KING

MIKE

Into the ocean. Mass suicide. If we don't give him what he wants.

SONNY

How could he

MIKE I don't know . . . but I think he can.

MOLLY comes through the draw curtains, holding RALPHIE in her arms. RALPHIE is fast asleep, but she can't bear to let him go.

MOLLY

What does he want, though? Mike, what does he want?

MIKE I'm sure we'll find out. When he's ready.

229 EXTERIOR: THE LIGHTHOUSE NIGHT.

The light swings around and around, briefly cutting through the DRIVING SNOW on each swing. In one of the shattered windows at the top, a SHAPE stands.

THE CAMERA MOVES IN ON LINOGE, who stands looking out at the town with his hands behind his back. He has the air of a ruler surveying his kingdom. At last he turns away.

230 INTERIOR: LIGHTHOUSE CONTROL ROOM NIGHT.

LINOGE, little more than a shadow in the RED LIGHTS of the control panels, crosses the circular room and opens the door to the stairs. THE CAMERA MOVES IN on the computer screen we saw before. Marching down from the top, replacing the storm surge warning for the morning's high tide, is this message, repeated over and over: "GIVE ME WHAT I WANT."

231 INTERIOR: THE LIGHTHOUSE STAIRCASE NIGHT.

We're looking down this dizzying spiral at LINOGE, who is descending rapidly.

STORM OF THE CENTURY 237

232 EXTERIOR: THE LIGHTHOUSE NIGHT.

LINOGE comes out, wolfs head cane in hand, and moves off into the snow, headed God knows where to do God knows what mischief. We HOLD on the lighthouse, then

FADE TO BLACK. THIS ENDS ACT 6.

Act?

233 EXTERIOR: THE DOWNTOWN AREA MORNING.

The snow is falling as fast and hard as ever. Buildings are half-buried. Power lines disappear into the snow. It looks like the newscast walk-and-ski we saw in the dreams, only with the storm still going on.

234 EXTERIOR: THE TOWN HALL MORNING.

The cupola with the memorial bell in it is almost buried, and the brick town hall building itself looks ghostly. The WIND HOWLS, unabated.

235 INTERIOR: THE TOWN MEETING HALL MORNING.

About half of the folks who took shelter in the town hall are here, sitting on the hard wooden benches with plates on their laps, eating pancakes and drinking juice. A kind of buffet has been set up at the back of the hall, with MRS. KINGSBURY (wearing a brilliant red hunter's cap with the bill turned around backward gangster-style) and TESS MARCHANT officiating. There's juice, coffee, and cold cereal in addition to the pancakes.

The folks eating breakfast are very quiet . . . not sullen, but introspective and a little afraid. All the families with small children are up of course they are, wee folks rise and shine early and among them we see the HATCHERS and the ANDERSONS in a sleepy morning party of six. MIKE is feeding RALPHIE bites of pancake, and HATCH is doing about the same with PIPPA. The wives drink coffee and talk quietly.

The side door OPENS, letting in a HOWL OF WIND, a SWIRL OF SNOW, and an excited JOHNNY HARRIMAN.

JOHNNY

Mike! Hey, Mikey! I never seen such a storm surge in my life! I think the lighthouse is gonna go! I really do!

The ISLANDERS STIR and MURMUR. MIKE puts RALPHIE on

238

STORM OF THE CENTURY 239

MOLLY'S lap and gets up. HATCH gets up too, and so do most of the others.

MIKE

Folks, if you go out, stay close to the building! We've got whiteout conditions, remember!

236 EXTERIOR: ANGLE ON THE HEADLAND AND THE LIGHTHOUSE MORNING.

The tide is coming high, and huge waves pound the rocks. The headland is almost inundated with each one. The base of the lighthouse is drowned with each incoming surge of water. The lighthouse survived last night's high tide; it probably won't survive this one.

237 EXTERIOR: THE SIDE OF THE TOWN HALL MORNING.

ISLANDERS spill out, CHATTERING, some buttoning their coats, some knotting scarves under their chins, some pulling up hoods and yanking down ski masks.

238 INTERIOR: THE TOWN MEETING ROOM MORNING.

The last of the people going out are just slipping through the easing clog at the side door. What's left in here are a few people who don't want to quit eating, plus SEVEN MOMMIES and ONE DADDY (JACK CARVER) coping with little kids who are exceedingly reluctant to be left out of the excitement.

RALPHIE

Mommy, please can't I go see?

MOLLY exchanges a look with MELINDA it's exasperated and a-mused at the same time, a look that only the parents of preschool children know.

PIPPA

(picking up on it) Please, Mommy, please can't I?