She BOWS her head in acknowledgment. Thane speaks up.

  THANE

  My lord, your vehicle is damaged. Travel will be slow. She may reach the door first.

  DARKLORD

  Pray that she does not, Thane, disgraced, twice-failed. I will have her, or I will have you in her stead.

  THANE

  Send me ahead, lord. She must go around the mountains. I can take a more direct road, and secure the door.

  DARKLORD

  Make it so. And do not harm her. She will serve my pleasure, not your empty human pride.

  THANE

  To hear is to obey.

  Thane climbs onto the OUTRIDER on one side of the palanquin, straddling it like a motorcycle. He works a control. The front section of the outrider slides forward and DETACHES from the main vehicle.

  DARKLORD

  Be warned, dog. There must be no third failure. My mercy is not without limit.

  Thane BOWS his head. The outrider takes off across the snow, swift and silent.

  CUT TO

  EXT.—THE MOUNTAINS—DAY

  The tank, hovering on its cushion of air, makes its way north over the wasteland of snow and ice toward the mountains.

  INT.—THE TANK—DAY

  The interior of the tank is cramped and cold. The vehicle is obviously in bad shape; in b.g. are circuit boards seared by fire, panels torn out, evidence of makeshift repair. The sound of the fans is loud.

  The Captain drives. Tom is seated in the turret gunner’s position, Cat huddled at his feet.

  TOM

  I’ve been thinking. You said it had been twenty-nine years. That would mean your war started in—

  THE CAPTAIN

  October, 1962. But it was never my war.

  TOM

  (figures it out)

  The Cuban missile crisis…the Soviets never backed down, did they?

  The Captain gives a weary shake of his head.

  TOM

  How bad was it?

  THE CAPTAIN

  We lost a few cities. Boston, Denver, Washington…but we won. The new president—McNamara, I think it was—he said so. People were dancing in the streets. Flags flying everywhere, victory parades, the second baby boom…God, what fools we were.

  TOM

  Afterwards…the fallout.

  THE CAPTAIN

  Poison rains. Crop failures. The survivors swarmed out of the cities, starving. There was no place for them to go. The lights went out all over America.

  CAT

  Darklords…

  TOM

  Not here. They did it themselves here. Just men and women…

  THE CAPTAIN

  The food wars were the worst of it. Once they started there was no stopping them. And all the time the winters were getting longer and colder.

  He shakes his head, as if to shake off the memories.

  Then, suddenly, a CLAXON sounds. The tank SHAKES. Smoke starts to pour out of an instrument panel. Cat covers her ears against the noise.

  The Captain grabs a fire extinguisher, rips off a panel cover, and starts to spray. The fans GRIND and fall silent, and the tank crashes to earth, jarringly. The smoke is thick.

  THE CAPTAIN

  Lake, pop the hatch. Move it! Before we all suffocate…

  EXT.—THE TANK—CONTINUOUS

  Smoke POURS from the open hatch as Tom climbs out. He pulls Cat out after him. The Captain comes last, holding a cloth over his face and COUGHING.

  TOM

  What happened?

  CAT

  Fire, Toe Mas.

  TOM

  I figured out that much.

  THE CAPTAIN

  Some kind of overload. This thing should have been put out of its misery years ago.

  TOM

  Can we repair it?

  The Captain looks around. There’s nothing but mountains, as far as the eye can see. Snow and ice everywhere.

  THE CAPTAIN

  Do we have a choice?

  CUT TO

  EXT.—ANOTHER PART OF THE MOUNTAINS—SIMULTA NEOUS

  Thane rides the outrider through the foothills. His face is grim and implacable. He is moving very fast, eating up the miles. The mountains loom large ahead of him.

  DISSOLVE TO

  EXT.—THE TANK—EVENING

  The Captain has been working on the tank for hours. Cat sits perched on top of the turret, their sentry. When the Captain emerges, she comes vaulting down to hear.

  TOM

  How does it look?

  The Captain’s face is grim.

  THE CAPTAIN

  I can jerry-rig something to replace the burnt-out circuit boards. The real problem is this.

  He TOSSES something at Tom, who snatches it from the air.

  TIGHT ON TOM’S HAND

  He’s holding a power cell. It’s dead, blackened.

  RESUME

  Cat moves close. Tom gives her the dead power cell with a sour look on his face.

  THE CAPTAIN

  The faulty board caused an overload. We’re going to need an other power cell.

  TOM

  We don’t have another power cell. There were only two spare cartridges.

  Tom looks helplessly out over the barren winterscape.

  TOM

  Where the hell is the Energizer bunny when you really need him?

  THE CAPTAIN

  Excuse me?

  TOM

  Never mind. What do we do now?

  They look at each other helplessly.

  THE CAPTAIN

  We die.

  Tom is startled by the sudden despair in the Captain’s tone. If this man is giving up, then the situation must be truly hopeless. The Captain’s voice is weary.

  THE CAPTAIN

  Funny way to end it, though. I always thought I’d die in battle. A soldier’s death…

  (beat)

  My father was a soldier, and his father before him. For them it was all about honor and courage, about defending your country from its enemies. Then the war came, and there was no more country, and the enemies I was killing one year turned out to be the people I’d been defending the year before.

  (beat)

  Nothing was ever right in this war. Not even the dying.

  Tom doesn’t know what to say, but Cat does.

  CAT

  No dying now.

  She draws the hand cannon, pops out the cartridge. The last cartridge. She offers it to the Captain. He takes it from her hand solemnly, realizing what it means.

  THE CAPTAIN

  Without this, your weapon is useless.

  TOM

  Cat, are you sure?

  CAT

  Sure.

  THE CAPTAIN

  You’re leaving yourself defenseless. If your enemies find you…these darklords you’ve told me about…you’ll have no way to fight them.

  CAT

  Lots of ways. Kicking. Biting. Throwing rocks.

  The Captain draws his revolver from its holster, presses it into Cat’s hand.

  THE CAPTAIN

  Here. There are only four bullets left, but it’s something. Take it.

  Cat takes the gun, examines it.

  CAT

  Something. Better than rocks.

  (tucks it away)

  Fixing now. Going now.

  The Captain turns back to the tank to resume work.

  DISSOLVE TO EXT.—CLIFF FACE—NIGHT—ANGLE DOWN

  A bitter wind HOWLS across a sheer cliff of rock and ice. The ground is a long way down, the top of the precipice a long way up. A HAND enters frame, grabs a precarious fingerhold. Then Thane pulls himself up into view. His fingers are BLOODY from clawing at the rock, and there is FROST on his face, yet he pushes himself on.

  As Thane CLIMBS out of sight, we

  DISSOLVE TO

  EXT.—MOUNTAIN PASS—THE NEXT DAY

  The tank climbs slowly up a steep slope, and STOPS where a narrow pass opens between two high, ice-covered walls of stone. Aft
er a moment the hatch opens. Cat scrambles out first. Tom and the Captain are right behind.

  Cat stands on top of the tank, exposes the bracelet, and SCANS. The BLUE GLOW is brightest when her fist points straight ahead, through the pass and up the mountain.

  CAT

  There. That way.

  THE CAPTAIN

  The pass is too narrow.

  He glances up above them, at the looming mountains.

  THE CAPTAIN

  I don’t like the look of that snow up there. If I try to get the tank through, I could bring down half the mountain.

  TOM

  Cat, how close is the door?

  CAT

  Close. Two hex, three hex.

  TOM

  I think we can make it the rest of the way on foot.

  THE CAPTAIN

  Then this is it. I need to get back to my people.

  TOM

  You can come with us.

  THE CAPTAIN

  This is my world. Besides…

  (smiling)

  I still think you’re mad.

  Tom SMILES. They CLASP hands. Then Tom and Cat jump off into the snow. Their feet drive DEEP FOOTPRINTS as they land. Tom slips and goes down. Cat pulls him to his feet. The Captain watches them walk off up the slope, then shuts the hatch.

  MATCH DISSOLVE TO

  THE SAME SPOT—AN HOUR LATER—ANGLE ON DYANA

  She kneels beside the deep footprints that Cat and Tom left in the snow. She stands.

  THE PALANQUIN

  floats close behind her. The creature in the darkfield leans forward ea gerly.

  DYANA

  They left their vehicle here and continued on foot. Not more than an hour ago.

  DARKLORD

  Then she is ours.

  DYANA

  What will you do with her, my lord?

  DARKLORD

  To you, pain is as short and sharp as a scream. You cannot hear its music. But I can write a symphony with those notes, manhound.

  Dyana doesn’t want to hear any more. She vaults aboard the palanquin. They push on, through the pass.

  CUT TO

  EXT.—MINE ENTRANCE—DAY

  Tom is breathing hard. Even Cat is flushed by the exertion of the climb, but when she sees the dark hole of the MINE ENTRANCE up ahead, she RUNS. Pushing up her sleeve, she exposes the bracelet, makes a fist. The insets begin to STROBE, one two three, one two three.

  TOM

  (breathing hard)

  Bingo. We found it.

  Thane steps out of the darkness inside the mine.

  THANE

  So you did.

  Cat SHRINKS back away from him. She whips out the battered old revolver the Captain gave her, swings it up with both hands, and FIRES without a moment’s hesitation.

  The bullet catches Thane in the shoulder. He staggers, then straightens himself, smiling.

  THANE

  The child has a new toy to play with.

  BLOOD is seeping from his shoulder wound, but Thane seems to feel very little pain. Tom is horrified.

  THANE

  That which does not kill me makes me stronger.

  Cat SNARLS at him, and FIRES again. The second shot is a clean miss. We hear it RICOCHET off the rocks.

  THANE

  Afraid? You should be. She is coming, little animal. She is close now. Do you know what she will do with you?

  Cat FIRES. The bullet catches Thane square in the stomach. He GRUNTS, bends, clutches at the wound—but only for a moment. Slowly, he straightens, his hands falling back to his sides.

  THANE

  That one almost hurt.

  Only one shot left. Cat is about to use it when Tom catches her wrist.

  TOM

  Cat, enough.

  THANE

  Cat. Yes. I gave her that name, shadow man. Did she tell you that?

  (with mounting rage)

  I taught her to speak. To read. To use machines. I gave her life. Food. Honor. I took her as my mate.

  TOM

  (realizing)

  You loved her…

  (beat)

  Let her go, Thane. What kind of man are you?

  THANE

  Not a man. A manhound.

  Behind him, suddenly, the mine entrance LIGHTS with a BRILLIANT BLUE LIGHT as the door opens.

  CAT

  The door…

  THANE

  There it is. All you need to do is get past me.

  At his sides, his hands coil into fists, and six-inch STEEL SPIKES slide from his knuckles. OFF that moment, we

  CUT TO

  EXT.—IN THE PASS—SIMULTANEOUS

  The darklord drives the palanquin upward.

  DARKLORD

  Faster! Faster! The door is opening. She must not escape. Faster!

  A half-mile in front of them, the HOVER TANK slowly lifts into view.

  DARKLORD

  What is that? That is a weapons system. Stop it.

  The turret of the tank slowly swings around.

  INT.—THE TANK

  The Captain works the controls, a grim smile on his face.

  THE CAPTAIN

  Welcome to my world, you son-of-a-bitch.

  He presses the firing switch.

  EXT.—THE TANK

  The turret gun belches FLAME. The noise is a hammer blow.

  THE PALANQUIN

  veers off wildly as a shell EXPLODES directly underneath it. Both manhounds are THROWN OFF. The darkfield absorbs most of the damage, but the darklord SHRIEKS in fury, a torrent of unintelligible alien sounds.

  The palanquin returns fire. A LIGHTNING BOLT flies down the pass, smashing into the tank. Then another. Another. The bolts CRACK through the air, and the pass rolls with THUNDER.

  INT.—THE TANK—TIGHT ON THE CAPTAIN

  He’s thrown sideways as the tank is hit. His lights go dark. The vehicle loses power and CRASHES, jarring him.

  THE CAPTAIN

  Hit me again. Hit me again. Come on, again.

  (another hit)

  Yes!

  Smoke is pouring from his bulkheads now, but the Captain SMILES. He hears something else: a deep, ominous RUMBLING from above.

  ANGLE THROUGH THE DARKFIELD

  The darklord on her palanquin hears it too. Inside the darkfield, the great distorted form twists in fear, and tries to shelter itself with its arms.

  DARKLORD

  Nooooooo.

  The word disintegrates into a SHRILL ALIEN SCREAM, and

  AN AVALANCHE

  thunders down and buries tank, palanquin, and all.

  CUT TO

  EXT.—MINE ENTRANCE—ON THANE

  His head SNAPS sideways at the sound of the avalanche. In that brief moment of distraction, Cat breaks free of Tom, snaps up the gun, and FIRES her last shot.

  The bullet catches Thane in the head, a grazing shot that bloodies his temple. He spins and goes down. Cat flings away the empty gun and scrambles past him to the door.

  The BLUE GLOW of the door is fading, growing darker. Thane is already moving, rolling over, hand on his bloody temple. Tom stands frozen.

  CAT

  (to Tom)

  Coming on!

  He doesn’t need a second hint. Tom runs, jumping over Thane. Cat takes him by the hand. Together, they LEAP through the door, and we

  SMASH CUT TO

  EXT.—THE GREENWOOD—DAY

  as Tom and Cat LAND in a pile of fallen leaves. The sky is a deep blue overhead. They are in an autumn forest, the foliage brilliant all around. In the distance, perched high on a mountain beside a glittering water fall, is a CASTLE. Tom stares at it.

  An ARROW thunks into the tree trunk an inch from Tom’s head, he jerks back, and looks at Cat.

  TOM

  Here we go again.

  CAT

  Bingo.

  And OFF Cat’s GRIN, we

  FADE OUT

  THE END

  EIGHT

  DOING THE WILD CARD SHUFFLE

  YOU
CAN TAKE THE BOY OUT OF BAYONNE, BUT YOU CAN’T TAKE BAYONNE OUT OF THE boy. The same is true of funny books. I admit it. Cut me and I still bleed four-colored ink.

  Maybe I don’t know the name of the current Green Lantern, but I can still recite Hal Jordan’s oath, and tell you how it differed from the one that Alan Scott once swore when he recharged his ring. I can name all of the Challengers of the Unknown for you and give you the original line-up of the Avengers, the X-Men, and the Justice League of America (do I really have to include Snapper Carr?). I have no doubt that in some alternate universe Marvel Comics did hire me when I applied in 1971, and right now in that world I am sitting at home muttering and gnawing at my wrists as I watch blockbuster movies based on my characters and stories rake in hundreds of millions of dollars while I receive exactly nothing.

  In this world I was spared that fate. In this world I wrote short stories and novellas and novels instead of funny books, and later on screenplays and teleplays as well. Yet that love of superheroes never left me, even when I was well-established as a pro. I still had one more good “text story” in me, I figured. Maybe more than one, but one for sure; a gritty, hard-nosed tale about what might befall a would-be superhero in the real world.