Blackthorne--Episode 100

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Blackthorne

Cinemagenic One-Hundred

Onslaught

“Guard yourself as you may, every moment could

be an ambush.”--Cormac McCarthy.

1(sound cue) Indian branch flute & harmonica.

2(medium wide shot from overhead drone)

the late afternoon musk-melon sun was beginning

to slide behind the ranch house. Johnny was near

the bottom of the hill.

3(cut to medium close up) The sun was in the

Eagle’s eyes. He pulled his hat down a little.

4(tight close-up) Johnny stopped.

5(sound cue) cicadas, chickens, and the breeze

went silent. A rifle shot thundered across the yard.

6(sound cue) loud six-string blues guitar slide and

riffs over bass drum heartbeats.

7(one shot) He moved the second he heard the shot,

but it was a second too late. A bullet caught him just

above the left knee and spun him to the ground. He

rolled into some high grass,and peeped over the top.

Nothing moved.

8(close-up) Johnny’s eyes darting left & right.

9(rising crane shot) from the top of the grass to a wide

shot of the house. The sun was behind the house now,

and long shadows reached out to him like phantom

fingers. A man darted out of the front door and cut

quickly to the right, heading for the corner. Johnny’s

30-30 slug tore wood off the siding just above the 

man’s head, as the brigand dipped out of sight. 

Someone else fired from behind hay bales in the

first corral, knocking the Indian’s hat off.

10(cut to medium close-up) Johnny picking up the

hat, and poking a finger through the bullet hole:

Bastardo.

11(sound cue) coronet, guitar, and castanets.

12(medium wide one-shot) Johnny returned fire,

slamming rifle lead into the bales, limping and

running as he fired, going for the big tree in the

middle of the yard. He was four feet from it when

a slug knocked him down. Bicho--he crawled.

Cabron--he rolled, until he made it to the tree.

There was three large rocks near the trunk of

the tree that gave him cover. Two wounds

screamed for his attention, left knee and right

forearm. He pulled off the red bandana from

his pate, and wrapped the forearm, tying it

tightly. He was bloodied as if he had been 

gored by angry bulls. He flicked out a dozen

shells from his bandolero, and stacked them

by his elbow.

13(sound cue) saxophone squeak, electric 

guitar and snare drums.

14(medium close-up) From three directions,

bark was flying off the tree, inches from his

head.

15(jump cut) A dozen horses were stampeded

out of the larger stock pen, and they panic-

galloped south to the brown mesas.

16(cut to a close-up) Johnny: I told you! Carajo--

I told you they would come! Hijo de puta--and

here the fuck they are! ...firing at the side of

the house. 

17(sound cue--Voice Over) During a lull:

OK, the wood shed or maybe the bunkhouse,

in the corral behind hay bales, and a forro now

under the front porch--three, maybe four.

18(medium close-up) a bullet tore the heel off

his left boot. A man darted out of the hay loft

door. Bronson, you sonofabitch. Five! You sent

five goddamn men--but you will not kill me!

19(one-shot) Johnny fired twice at the barn

hay loft door.
20(cut to medium shot) the bullets hit a couple

feet to the right of the door.

21(sound cue) wood splintering, then a slug

hitting flesh.

22(close-up) Johnny reloading, shiny brass sliding

into the Winchester magazine.

23(crane shot) the guy behind the hay bales fired

three times in rapid succession, ripping off sappy

bark twice and recocheting off the rock once.

24(medium close-up) behind Johnny as he held his 

open sights on the spot the gunman had been. When

the assassin bobbed up, 30-30 expanding lead gave

him a lobotomy, splattering his brains.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub OLN