The Last Samurai Page #3

ALGREN:

This is, gentlemen, The Gun That Is

Winning The West... Step on up and

take a look. Mr. McCabe is here to

answer any question and take orders.

I thank you.

Later...

A Winchester representative is handing Algren an envelope.

WINCHESTER REP:

What the hell was that?

ALGREN:

Got their attention, didn't I?

WINCHESTER REP:

Boston in three weeks. And sober

this time.

He goes. Algren immediately starts counting the cash.

INT. SEEDY HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Algren sits alone on the bed. He takes out a leather-bound

journal and begins to write.

ALGREN (V.O.)

June 17th, 1876. The dead are with

me tonight. They return each time I

am obliged to tell their story.

INT. SQUALID BAR - NIGHT

Algren sips absinthe. He stares at the milky, green liquid

before him.

ALGREN (V.O.)

I can almost see them in the shadows,

their bodies whole and beautiful

once more. Sometimes it's as if they

call to me in a sweet invitation --

EXT. GAS-LIT STREET - NIGHT

Algren walks in the fog. Sputtering gas lamps give an

unearthly glow.

ALGREN (V.O.)

"We are dead," they whisper, "and we

are happy."

INT. SEEDY HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Algren is back in the hotel room. From his small suitcase,

he takes the Medal of Honor, looks at it for a long moment.

ALGREN (V.O.)

"Do not be afraid," they whisper.

"You have been dead, too."

A SUDDEN FLASH:

We are back on Sutter's Hill. Algren's slaughtered cavalry

litter the bloody ground, dead to the last man. A rebel army

surgeon gives a cursory look at each body before it is loaded

onto a wagon.

Algren's turn is no different than the others. He is declared

dead and hoisted unceremoniously onto the pile of corpses.

BACK IN THE HOTEL ROOM:

Algren sits, staring into the middle distance.

ALGREN (V.O.)

Is this why they gave their lives?

So that I might disgrace their memory?

He reaches into the suitcase and takes out a Colt revolver.

Stares at it, cracks the cylinder to make sure it's loaded.

His finger wraps around the trigger, the barrel makes its

way toward his head.

And then, unaccountably, he is laughing.

ALGREN (V.O.)

And why, after taking so many lives,

do I find myself incapable of taking

just one more?

A KNOCK on the door. Algren shuts his eyes, then calls out.

ALGREN:

Go away.

GANT (V .O.)

Not exactly the greeting I imagined.

Algren looks up. He knows that voice. He carefully puts the

revolver back into the suitcase and shuts it before opening

the door.

GANT:

Thought you'd seen the last of me, I

expect.

Algren is filled with emotion, which he tries to hide.

ALGREN:

Zeb...

They embrace.

ALGREN:

Sit. Please.

Gant moves to the proffered chair with a pronounced limp.

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