[FADE IN: United Britannia Airlines. A passenger waiting to board the plane, GEORGE PHELPS, is sitting nervously in a chair. He notices a restroom and goes inside. In the bathroom, he splashes cold water on his face, trying to calm down. Another man comes out of one of the stalls.]
MAN: Nervous flier?
GEORGE: It’s that obvious, huh?
MAN: You know, what are the odds of dyin’ in a plane crash? I mean, what—twenty thousand to one? [He leaves.]
GEORGE: [calling after him] Wow. That’s, uh, really reassuring. Thank you. [He continues to splash water on his face. While he is doing so, a black mist comes out of the air vent in the bathroom. It swirls around GEORGE and enters his body through his eyes.]
[CUT TO: INT. – Airplane. The passengers are boarding the plane. The pilot, CHUCK LAMBERT, turns to talk to one of the flight attendants, AMANDA WALKER.]
CHUCK: Amanda, how are you today?
AMANDA: I’m doing just fine, Chuck. [A passenger comes aboard and hands AMANDA his ticket.] Welcome aboard. 15C—towards the back of the plane, on the right. [The man nods and walks to his seat. GEORGE comes aboard and begins walking to his seat.] Have a nice flight, sir. [He turns to face her. His eyes are coal-black.]
GEORGE: Oh, I’m countin’ on it. [As he walks to his seat, AMANDA seems shocked and confused. Another passenger comes on the plane.]
AMANDA: Uh, 11F—that’s the middle of the plane, on….[The woman walks away before she can finish.]….the left.
[Almost an hour later, the plane is in the air. GEORGE, whose eyes are normal at the moment, turns to speak to a female passenger next to him.]
GEORGE: Excuse me. Do you know how long we’ve been up? [The woman checks her watch.]
WOMAN: Oh, uh….about forty minutes.
GEORGE: Wow. Time really does fly, huh? [The woman nods. GEORGE gets up.] Excuse me. I’ve got to stretch my legs.
WOMAN: Okay. [She stands up so he can get through. He walks to the back of the plane. Another passenger, MAX JAFFEY, turns to see what he is doing. GEORGE walks to the emergency exit and grabs the handle.]
MAX: Hey, what the hell are you doing?! [GEORGE turns to MAX. His eyes are completely black. MAX is shocked. GEORGE opens the emergency exit. He and the door fly out of the plane. The plane begins to crash at an uncontrollable speed. Everybody is frantic. Papers and other objects are flying everywhere. AMANDA is struggling to get to a seat. Oxygen masks drop from the ceiling. AMANDA and the passengers grab them and put them over their mouths as the plane continues to dive towards the ground. The screen goes black.]
SUPERNATURAL
[FADE IN: Motel Room. The camera pans up DEAN’s body as he sleeps. The door to the room creaks as SAM opens it. DEAN opens his eyes slightly. The door slams shut, and he wakes up, startled.]
SAM: [carrying coffee and donuts] Mornin’, sunshine.
DEAN: [sleepily] What time is it?
SAM: It’s about 5:45.
DEAN: In the morning?
SAM: Yep.
DEAN: Where does the day go? [He sits up in his bed.] Did you get any sleep last night?
SAM: Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours.
DEAN: Liar. ‘Cause I was up at three, and you were watchin’ the George Foreman infomercial.
SAM: Hey, what can I say? It’s riveting TV.
DEAN: When was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?
SAM: I don’t know. A little while, I guess. It’s not a big deal.
DEAN: Yeah, it is.
SAM: Look, I appreciate your concern—
DEAN: Oh, I’m not concerned about you. It’s your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp. [SAM shrugs.] Seriously, are you still havin’ nightmares about Jess?
SAM: Yeah. [He sits down on the bed across from DEAN and hands him a cup of coffee.] But it’s not just her. It’s everything. I just forgot, you know? This job—man, it gets to you.
DEAN: Well, you can’t let it. You can’t bring it home like that.
SAM: So, what? All this—it never keeps you up at night? [DEAN shakes his head.] Never? You’re never afraid?
DEAN: No, not really. [SAM reaches under DEAN’s pillow and pulls out a knife. DEAN takes it from him.] That’s not fear. That is precaution.
SAM: All right, whatever. I’m too tired to argue. [DEAN’s cell phone rings. He answers it.]
DEAN: Hello? [The scene alternates between the motel room and an office, where JERRY PANOWSKI, a family acquaintance, is sitting at his desk.]
JERRY: Dean, it’s Jerry Panowski. You and your dad helped me out a couple years back.
DEAN: Oh, right, yeah, up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It’s not back, is it?
JERRY: No, no. Thank God, no. But it’s something else, and, well, I think it could be a lot worse.
DEAN: What is it?
JERRY: Can we talk in person?
[CUT TO: INT. – Warehouse. Several airplanes are being constructed around the building. JERRY is talking with SAM and DEAN as they walk to his office.]
JERRY: Thanks for makin’ the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. [to SAM] Dean and your dad really helped me out.
SAM: Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist? [A passing employee overhears them.]
MAN: “Poltergeist”? Man, I loved that movie!
JERRY: Hey, nobody’s talkin’ to you. Keep walkin’. [to SAM] Damn right, it was a poltergeist—practically tore our house apart. [to DEAN] I’ll tell you somethin’—if it wasn’t for you and your dad, I probably wouldn’t be alive. [to SAM] Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?
SAM: Yeah, I was. I’m….takin’ some time off.
JERRY: Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.
SAM: He did?
JERRY: Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know, I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn’t. How’s he doing, anyway?
DEAN: He’s, um….he’s wrapped up in a job right now.
JERRY: Well, we’re missin’ the old man. We get Sam. Even trade, huh? [They all laugh.]
SAM: No, not by a long shot.
JERRY: I’ve got somethin’ I want you guys to hear.
[CUT TO: JERRY’S OFFICE. He sits down at his desk and places a CD into a player.]
JERRY: I listened to this. Well, it sounded like it was up your alley. Normally, I wouldn’t have access to this. It’s the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia Flight 2485. It was one of ours. [He plays the CD. At first, there is lots of static and indistinct talking as the plane begins to descend. Moments later, there is the sound of a demonic hiss. The CD ends. SAM and DEAN exchange confused looks.] Took off from here—crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they’re saying mechanical failure. The cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board—only seven got out alive. The pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He’s a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh….well, he’s pretty broken up about it—like it was his fault.
SAM: You don’t think it was?
JERRY: No, I don’t.
SAM: Jerry, we’re gonna need passenger manifests, a list of survivors—
DEAN: Right. And any way we can take a look at the wreckage?
JERRY: The other stuff is no problem, but the wreckage—fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I’ve got that kind of clearance. [DEAN shrugs.]
DEAN: No problem.
[CUT TO: EXT. – Copy Jack. SAM is waiting by the car for DEAN, who comes out of the store.]
SAM: You’ve been in there forever.
DEAN: [holding up two fake IDs] You can’t rush perfection.
SAM: [reading them] Homeland Security? That’s pretty illegal, even for us.
DEAN: Yeah, well, it’s somethin’ new, you know? People haven’t seen it a thousand times. [They get in the car.] All right, so, what do you got?
SAM: Well, there’s definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder.
DEAN: Yeah?
SAM: Listen. [He plays the audio on his laptop. After a moment, there is the distinct sound of something saying, “No survivors.”]
DEAN: “No survivors”? What’s that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.
SAM: Got me.
DEAN: So, what are you thinkin’? A haunted flight?
SAM: There’s a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers.
DEAN: Mm-hmm.
SAM: Or, remember Flight 401?
DEAN: Right—the one that crashed, then the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and co-pilot haunted those flights.
SAM: Right.
DEAN: Yep.
SAM: Maybe we’ve got a similar deal. [DEAN holds up the list of survivors.]
DEAN: All right, so, survivors—which one do you wanna talk to first?
SAM: [pointing to a name] Third on the list—Max Jaffey.
DEAN: Why him?
SAM: Well, for one, he’s from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did.
DEAN: What makes you say that?
SAM: Well, I spoke to his mother, and she told me where to find him.
[CUT TO: Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital. DEAN and SAM are outside talking to MAX, who is walking with a limp.]
MAX: I don’t understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security.
DEAN: Right. Some new information has come up. So if you could just answer a couple questions….
SAM: Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything unusual?
MAX: Like what?
DEAN: Strange lights, weird noises, maybe….voices?
MAX: No, nothing.
DEAN: Hmm. Mr. Joffey—
MAX: Jaffey.
DEAN: Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right? [MAX nods.] Can I ask why?
MAX: I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash.
DEAN: Uh-huh. And that’s what terrified you? That’s what you were afraid of?
MAX: I-I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.
DEAN: See, I think maybe you did see somethin’ up there. We need to know what.
MAX: No. No, I was delusional—seeing things.
DEAN: [to SAM] He was seeing things. [SAM shrugs.]
SAM: [to MAX] It’s okay. Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please.
MAX: [after a pause] There was….this….man. And, uh, he had these….eyes—these, uh….black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him….
DEAN: What?
MAX: He opened the emergency exit. But that’s….that’s impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There’s somethin’ like two tons of pressure on that door.
SAM: This man—did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It wouldn’t look something like a mirage?
MAX: What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me. [DEAN and SAM exchange a look.]
[CUT TO: EXT – PHELPS RESIDENCE. DEAN and SAM pull up outside the house.]
SAM: Here we are—George Phelps, seat 20C.
DEAN: Hmm. Man, I don’t care how strong you are. [They get out of the car.] Even yoked up on PCP or somethin’, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight.
SAM: Not if you’re human. But maybe this guy, George, was somethin’ else—a creature maybe, in human form?
DEAN: [gesturing to the house] That look like a creature’s lair to you?
[CUT TO: INT. – PHELPS RESIDENCE. SAM and DEAN are talking to GEORGE’s wife. SAM picks up a photo of GEORGE.]
SAM: This is your late husband?
MRS. PHELPS: Yes, that was my George.
DEAN: And you said he was a….dentist?
MRS. PHELPS: Mm-hmm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that….[She trails off, about to cry.]
SAM: How long were you married? [She smiles.]
MRS. PHELPS: Thirteen years.
SAM: In all that time, did you ever notice anything….strange about him—anything out of the ordinary?
MRS. PHELPS: [after a pause] Well….uh, he had acid reflux, if that’s what you mean. [DEAN and SAM exchange a glance.]
[CUT TO: EXT. – PHELPS RESIDENCE. DEAN and SAM are walking back to the car.]
SAM: I mean, it goes without saying. It just doesn’t make any sense.
DEAN: Yeah, a middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified. You know, what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage.
SAM: Okay. But if we’re gonna go that route, we better look the part.
[CUT TO: EXT. – Mort’s For Style. DEAN and SAM exit the shop, dressed in suits.]
DEAN: Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.
SAM: No, you don’t. You look more like a seventh grader at his first dance.
DEAN: I hate this thing.
SAM: Hey, you want into that warehouse or not? [DEAN says nothing. They get in the car and drive away.]
[At the evidence warehouse, DEAN and SAM show the security guards their IDs. The men nod and let them in. They begin looking around at the wreckage. DEAN takes out an electronic device and puts headphones in his ears.]
SAM: What is that?
DEAN: It’s an EMF meter—reads electromagnetic frequencies.
SAM: Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted-up Walkman?
DEAN: [smiling proudly] ‘Cause that’s what I made it out of. It’s homemade.
SAM: Yeah, I can see that. [DEAN frowns, hurt. They continue to look around. They reach a piece of wreckage that causes the EMF meter to beep rapidly.]
DEAN: Check out the emergency door handle. [There is a certain substance on it. DEAN wipes some of it off with his hand.] What is this stuff?
SAM: One way to find out. [He scrapes some of it off with a knife and puts it in a plastic bag. DEAN looks at the substance on his fingers, shrugs, and wipes it on SAM’s back.]
[Outside the warehouse, two actual Homeland Security men approach the security desk and show their IDs.]
SECURITY GUARD: Homeland Security? What, one team of you guys isn’t enough?
HOMELAND SECURITY MAN: What are you talkin’ about?
SECURITY GUARD: Two of your buddies went inside not five minutes ago. [The Homeland Security men exchange a look. A moment later, several security guards are rushing down the hallway towards the warehouse. However, when they enter, DEAN and SAM are no longer there.]
[Outside the warehouse, DEAN and SAM are walking calmly. Suddenly, they hear an alarm blaring, and they begin running. DEAN takes off his suit jacket and throws it over the fence. Both of them hop the fence, and DEAN grabs his jacket.]
DEAN: Huh. These monkey suits do come in handy. [He and SAM run back to the car.]
[CUT TO: INT. – Airport. The pilot of Flight 2485, CHUCK LAMBERT, is sitting nervously in a chair. His co-pilot is sitting next to him.]
COPILOT: Listen, Chuck, it’s like gettin’ back on a horse, only in this case, a little twin engine. Not even a horse—more like a pony. And I’m gonna be right there with you, too. Anytime you feel like you don’t want the wheel, I’ll take over. [CHUCK nods.] Look, Chuck, we don’t have to do this today. I’m not tryin’ to rush you.
CHUCK: No, the—the waiting is worse. [The co-pilot looks out the window at the plane.]
COPILOT: Okay, they’re fillin’ up the tank. Then we go. [He gets up and walks away. CHUCK closes his eyes, trying to calm down. The black mist from the first plane crash comes through the air vent. It finds its way to CHUCK, swirls around him, and enters his body.]
[CUT TO: JERRY’S OFFICE. SAM and DEAN watch while JERRY looks at the substance under a microscope.]
JERRY: Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfur.
SAM: You’re sure?
JERRY: Take a look for yourself. [There is the sound of an employee yelling in the hallway.] If you fellas will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire. [He leaves the room. DEAN looks through the microscope.]
DEAN: Hmm. You know, there’s not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue.
SAM: Demonic possession?
DEAN: It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch.
SAM: If the guy was possessed, it’s possible.
DEAN: Yeah, but this goes way beyond floatin’ over a bed or barfin’ pea soup. I mean, it’s one thing to possess a person, but to use ‘em to take down an entire airplane?
SAM: You ever heard of somethin’ like this before?
DEAN: Never.
[CUT TO: EXT. – Airport. CHUCK approaches his co-pilot.]
CHUCK: [cheerfully] I’m ready. Let’s do this. [They walk to the plane.]
[Almost an hour later, they are still in the air.]
COPILOT: How you feelin’?
CHUCK: I feel great.
COPILOT: You’ll be back flyin’ jumbos before you know it.
CHUCK: I hope so. How long we been up? [The co-pilot checks his watch.]
COPILOT: Almost forty minutes.
CHUCK: Wow. Time really does fly. [The co-pilot shrugs. Suddenly, the plane starts hurtling towards the ground.]
COPILOT: What are you doing?! [CHUCK, black-eyed, knocks him out. The plane continues to dive straight towards the ground. The screen goes black.]
[FADE IN: MOTEL ROOM. DEAN and SAM are researching.]
SAM: [sitting at the laptop] So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean, Christian, Native American, Hindu—you name it.
DEAN: Yeah, but none of ‘em describe anything like this.
SAM: Well, that’s not exactly true. See, according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease.
DEAN: And this one causes plane crashes? [SAM shrugs.] All right, so, what? We've got a demon that’s evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?
SAM: Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it’s brought down before this one? [DEAN turns away from him and scratches his head.] What?
DEAN: I don’t know, man. This isn’t our normal gig. I mean, demons—they don’t want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. You know, I wish Dad was here.
SAM: Yeah. Me, too. [DEAN’s cell phone rings and he answers it.]
DEAN: Hello?
JERRY: [in his office] Dean, it’s Jerry.
DEAN: Oh, hey, Jerry.
JERRY: My pilot friend, Chuck Lambert, is dead.
DEAN: [stunned] Jerry, I’m sorry. What happened?
JERRY: He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. The plane went down.
DEAN: Where’d this happen?
JERRY: About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth.
DEAN: I’ll try to ignore the irony in that.
JERRY: I’m sorry?
DEAN: Nothin’. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We’ll catch up with you soon. [He hangs up.]
SAM: Another crash?
DEAN: Yeah. Let’s go.
SAM: Where?
DEAN: Nazareth. [SAM smiles half-heartedly.]
[There is a brief shot of the Impala driving towards Nazareth.]
[CUT TO: JERRY’S OFFICE. JERRY is looking at more wreckage underneath a microscope while DEAN and SAM watch.]
DEAN: Sulfur? [JERRY nods.] Well, that’s great. All right, so, that’s two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.
SAM: With all due respect to Chuck, um….if that’s the case, that would be the good news.
DEAN: What’s the bad news?
SAM: Chuck’s plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this—so did Flight 2485.
JERRY: Forty minutes? What does that mean?
DEAN: It’s biblical numerology. On Noah’s Ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death.
SAM: I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in.
DEAN: Any survivors?
SAM: No. Or not until now, at least—not until Flight 2485, for some reason. And the cockpit voice recorder—remember what the EVP said?
DEAN: “No survivors”. [SAM nods.] It’s goin’ after all the survivors. It’s tryin’ to finish the job.
[CUT TO: INT. – Car. SAM is on the phone with someone while DEAN drives.]
SAM: Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, and if you do plan to fly, please don’t forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks. [He hangs up.] All right, that takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They’re not flyin’ anytime soon.
DEAN: So, our only wildcard is the flight attendant, Amanda Walker.
SAM: Right. Her sister, Karen, said her flight leaves Indianapolis at 8 PM. It’s her first night back on the job.
DEAN: That sounds like just our luck.
SAM: Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man. Even with you behind the wheel.
DEAN: Why don’t you call Amanda’s cell phone again—see if we can’t head her off at the pass.
SAM: I’ve already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cell phone off. God, we’re never gonna make it.
DEAN: Oh, we’ll make it. [He steps on the gas and speeds down the road.]
[CUT TO: INT. – Airport. DEAN and SAM rush into the building and look at the flight schedule on the screen.]
SAM: [pointing to something on the screen] Right there. They’re boarding in thirty minutes.
DEAN: Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone.
[At another area of the airport, they find a courtesy phone. DEAN picks it up and speaks to an operator.]
DEAN: Hi. Gate 13—I’m trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She’s a flight attendant on Flight, um….
SAM: 424.
DEAN: Flight 424.
OPERATOR: [over the loudspeaker] Amanda Walker, Amanda Walker. You have a phone call at the white courtesy phone, Gate 13. [At another gate, AMANDA picks up the nearest courtesy phone.]
DEAN: Come on….
AMANDA: This is Amanda Walker.
DEAN: Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Headfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here.
AMANDA: Karen?
DEAN: Nothing serious—just a minor car accident. But she was injured, so—
AMANDA: Wait, that’s impossible. I just got off the phone with her.
DEAN: [after an awkward pause] You what?
AMANDA: Five minutes ago. She’s at her house, cramming for a final. Who is this?
DEAN: Uh, well….there must be some mistake.
AMANDA: And how would you even know I was here? [She pauses.] Is this one of Vince’s friends?
DEAN: Guilty as charged. [He chuckles.]
AMANDA: Wow. This is unbelievable.
DEAN: He’s really sorry.
AMANDA: Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?
DEAN: Yes, but he really needs to see you tonight, so—
AMANDA: No, I’m sorry. It’s too late.
DEAN: Don’t be like that. Come on, the guy’s a mess, really….it’s pathetic.
AMANDA: [sadly] Really?
DEAN: Oh, yeah.
AMANDA: Look, I’ve gotta go. Tell him to call me when I land.
DEAN: No, no, wait, Amanda. [She hangs up.] Amanda? [He hangs up also. As AMANDA goes to board her plane, black mist begins to seep out of an air vent, but it quickly disappears. DEAN and SAM pace around the airport.] Damn it! So close.
SAM: All right, it’s time for Plan B. We’re getting on that plane.
DEAN: Now, just hold on a second.
SAM: Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we’re right, that plane is gonna crash.
DEAN: I know!
SAM: We’re getting on the plane, we need to find that demon, and exorcise it. Look, I’ll get the tickets. You just go and get whatever you can out of the trunk, whatever will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes. [DEAN doesn’t move.] Are you okay?
DEAN: [hesitantly] No, not really.
SAM: What? What’s wrong?
DEAN: Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh….[He sighs.]
SAM: Flying?
DEAN: It’s never really been an issue until now.
SAM: You’re joking, right?
DEAN: [panicked] Do I look like I’m joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?
SAM: All right. Uh, I’ll go.
DEAN: What?
SAM: I’ll do this one on my own.
DEAN: What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane’s gonna crash.
SAM: Look, Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one by myself. I’m not seeing a third option here.
DEAN: Come on! Really? [He sighs, defeated.] Man.
[A few moments later, both of them are on the plane, which rumbles and shakes as it prepares to take off.]
SAM: Just try to relax.
DEAN: Just try to shut up. [SAM laughs. As the plane takes off, DEAN tightens his seatbelt and leans his head against the back of the seat. He begins to panic as they leave the ground. The screen goes black.]
[FADE IN: Airplane. DEAN is humming, trying to relax.]
SAM: Are you humming Metallica?
DEAN: It calms me down.
SAM: Look, man, I get you’re nervous, all right? But you’ve got to stay focused.
DEAN: Okay.
SAM: [whispering] I mean, we’ve got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it’s possessing, anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism.
DEAN: Yeah, on a crowded plane, that’s gonna be easy.
SAM: Just take it one step at a time, all right? Now, who is it possessing?
DEAN: Well, it’s usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through—somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress.
SAM: Well, this is Amanda’s first flight after the crash. If I were her, I’d be pretty messed up.
DEAN: Mm-hmm. [Another flight attendant passes them.] Excuse me. Are you Amanda?
FLIGHT ATTENDANT: No, I’m not.
DEAN: Oh, my mistake.
FLIGHT ATTENDANT: Mm-hmm. [She walks away. DEAN turns and sees AMANDA at the back of the plane, near the restrooms.]
DEAN: [to SAM] All right, well, that’s got to be Amanda back there, so….I’ll go talk to her and, uh, I’ll get a read on her mental state.
SAM: What if she’s already possessed?
DEAN: There’s ways to test that. [He reaches into his bag and pulls out a bottle of water.] I brought holy water. [SAM takes the bottle from him.]
SAM: No, I think we can go more subtle. If she’s possessed, she’ll flinch at the name of God.
DEAN: Oh. Nice. [He goes to get up.]
SAM: Hey.
DEAN: What?
SAM: Say it in Latin.
DEAN: I know. [He starts walking away.]
SAM: Hey!
DEAN: What?!
SAM: In Latin, it’s “Cristo”.
DEAN: Dude, I know, I’m not an idiot! [He walks away.]
[At the back of the plane, AMANDA is setting up glasses on a cart. DEAN comes to talk to her.]
DEAN: Hi.
AMANDA: Hi. Can I help you with something?
DEAN: Oh, no. I’m just a bit of an uneasy flier. It makes me feel better to walk around a little bit.
AMANDA: Oh, it happens to the best of us.
DEAN: Of course, you being a stewardess, I guess flying comes easy to you. [She laughs.]
AMANDA: Oh, you’d be surprised.
DEAN: Really? You’re a nervous flier?
AMANDA: Yeah, maybe—a little bit.
DEAN: How is it that, being a stewardess, you’re scared to fly?
AMANDA: Kind of a long story.
DEAN: Right. Sorry for asking.
AMANDA: It’s okay.
DEAN: You ever consider other employment?
AMANDA: No. Look, everybody’s scared of something. I just, uh….I’m not gonna let it hold me back.
DEAN: Huh.
AMANDA: So…
DEAN: [under his breath] Cristo.
AMANDA: I’m sorry, did you say something? [DEAN laughs.]
DEAN: [awkwardly] Cristo?
AMANDA: I-I didn’t—I didn’t—what?
DEAN: Nothing. Never mind. [He goes back to his seat, leaving AMANDA confused.]
AMANDA: Okay. [DEAN returns to the front of the plane and sits down next to SAM.]
DEAN: All right, well, she’s got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet.
SAM: You said “Cristo”?
DEAN: Yeah.
SAM: And?
DEAN: There’s no demon in her. There’s no demon getting in her.
SAM: So, if it’s on the plane, it can be anyone….anywhere. [The plane begins to rumble and shake.]
DEAN: Come on! That can’t be normal!
SAM: Hey, hey, it’s just a little turbulence.
DEAN: Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treatin’ me like I’m friggin’ four!
SAM: You need to calm down.
DEAN: Well, I’m sorry, I can’t!
SAM: Yes, you can.
DEAN: Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it’s not helping!
SAM: Listen, if you’re panicked, you’re wide open to demonic possession, so you need to calm yourself down right now. [DEAN pauses before letting out a long breath.] Good. [He opens his father’s journal.] Now, I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work—the ritual Romano.
DEAN: What do we have to do?
SAM: It’s two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim’s body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.
DEAN: More powerful?
SAM: Yeah.
DEAN: How?
SAM: Well, it doesn’t need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own.
DEAN: Oh, and why is that a good thing?
SAM: Well, because the second part sends the bastard back to hell, once and for all.
DEAN: First thing’s first—we’ve got to find it.
[A few moments later, DEAN is walking up and down the aisles of the plane with the EMF meter in his hand. He walks by each passenger as they look at him curiously. Nobody seems to be possessed. Suddenly, SAM comes up behind DEAN and hits him on the back.]
DEAN: [jumpy] Oh! Don’t do that!
SAM: Anything?
DEAN: No, nothin’. How much time we got? [SAM checks his watch.]
SAM: Fifteen minutes. Maybe we missed somebody.
DEAN: Maybe the thing’s just not on the plane.
SAM: You believe that?
DEAN: Well, I will if you will. [SAM gives him a knowing look. Suddenly, the EMF meter begins to beep frantically. The co-pilot of the plane comes out of the restroom and smiles at them. SAM notices DEAN staring at the co-pilot intently.]
SAM: What? What is it?
DEAN: Cristo. [Before going back into the cockpit, the co-pilot turns to them. His eyes are completely black. DEAN and SAM stare in awe as the co-pilot turns away from them. The screen goes black.]
[FADE IN: Airplane. DEAN and SAM are heading towards the back of the plane, which is closed off by a curtain.]
SAM: She’s not gonna believe this.
DEAN: Twelve minutes, dude. [They enter the curtained part of the plane, where AMANDA is standing.]
AMANDA: Oh, hi. Flight’s not too bumpy for you, I hope.
DEAN: Actually, that’s kind of what we need to talk to you about. [SAM closes the curtain.]
AMANDA: Um, okay. What can I do for you?
DEAN: All right, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don’t have time for the whole “The truth is out there” speech right now.
SAM: All right, look, we know you were on Flight 2485.
AMANDA: Who are you guys?
SAM: We’ve spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane, and it wasn’t mechanical failure.
DEAN: And we need your help because we need to stop it from happening again, here, now.
AMANDA: I-I’m sorry, I’m very busy. [She tries to leave, but DEAN stops her.]
DEAN: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. I’m not gonna hurt you, okay? But listen to me—the pilot from 2485, Chuck Lambert—he’s dead.
AMANDA: Wait, what? Chuck is dead?
DEAN: He died in a plane crash. Now, that’s two plane crashes in two months. That doesn’t strike you as strange?
SAM: Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now, maybe you sensed it, and maybe you didn’t, but there’s something wrong with this flight, too.
DEAN: Amanda, you have to believe us. [They watch her expectantly.]
AMANDA: On….on 2485, there was this man. He….had these eyes.
SAM: Yes, that’s exactly what we’re talking about.
AMANDA: But I don’t understand. What are you asking me to do?
DEAN: Get the co-pilot. We need you to bring him back here.
AMANDA: Why? What does he have to do with anything?
DEAN: Don’t have time to explain. We just need to talk to him, okay?
AMANDA: But how am I supposed to go into the cockpit and get the co-pilot—
SAM: Whatever it takes. Do whatever it takes. Tell him there’s something broken back here. Whatever will get him out of that cockpit.
AMANDA: Do you know that I could lose my job if—
DEAN: You’re gonna lose a lot more than that if you don’t help us out. [They pause, waiting for her.]
AMANDA: Okay. [She leaves the area. DEAN and SAM watch through the curtain as she knocks on the door of the cockpit. The co-pilot comes out, and after a few moments of talking, he and AMANDA begin walking towards the back of the plane. DEAN and SAM take out the holy water and their father’s journal in preparation. As soon as the co-pilot enters the area, DEAN punches him and throws him down on the floor. He covers the co-pilot’s mouth with a piece of duct tape.] What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him!
DEAN: We are gonna talk to him. [The co-pilot thrashes wildly as SAM covers him in holy water. Holes begin to burn and sizzle through his clothing.]
AMANDA: Oh, my God, what’s wrong with him?
SAM: We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain. Don’t let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? [She says nothing.] Amanda?
AMANDA: [panicking] Okay. Okay. [She leaves the area and stands outside the curtain.]
DEAN: Hurry up, Sam. I don’t know how much longer I can hold him. [SAM begins speaking in Latin. The co-pilot continues to wrestle with DEAN. Suddenly, the demon becomes stronger. He knocks the bottle of water out of SAM’s hands and throws both he and DEAN against the wall. SAM grabs the journal and continues reading. The co-pilot rips the duct tape off his mouth and grabs SAM’s shirt.]
COPILOT: I know what happened to your girlfriend! [SAM is shocked.] She must have died screaming! Even now, she’s burning! [DEAN tries to hold the co-pilot down, but SAM doesn’t move.]
DEAN: Sam! [SAM picks up the journal and continues to speak in Latin. A moment later, he puts the journal down and helps DEAN keep the co-pilot on the floor.]
SAM: I got him! [The co-pilot begins screaming. He kicks the journal into the aisle of the plane. He opens his mouth and the demon leaves his body in a haze of black mist, which seeps into the air vent. The co-pilot lays on the floor, motionless.] Where’d it go?
DEAN: It’s in the plane. Hurry up, we’ve got to finish it. [SAM gets up to retrieve the journal from the front of the plane. Suddenly, the plane begins to fall. DEAN is thrown against a wall, screaming. The passengers begin panicking. In the midst of all the chaos, SAM is able to reach the journal.]
SAM: Got it! [Kneeling in the middle of the aisle, SAM opens the journal to the exorcism and begins screaming in Latin. The plane continues to dive. DEAN tries to move but is once again thrown up against a wall. Papers and other objects are flying everywhere. As SAM continues the exorcism, the demon leaves the plane in the form of an electric white light. Once the demon is gone, the plane suddenly stops crashing. Everyone begins to calm down as the plane travels smoothly through the air again. SAM stands up, breathing heavily. DEAN comes out from behind the curtain and gives SAM a knowing look. The screen goes black.]
[FADE IN: INT. – Airport. Police officers and paramedics are talking to several passengers as they come off the plane. The co-pilot of the plane is in a wheelchair, talking to a cop.]
POLICE OFFICER: Sir, can you tell me what happened?
COPILOT: I don’t know. I was walking through the airport, then it all goes blank. I don’t even remember gettin’ on the plane. [AMANDA is also talking to an FBI agent. She notices DEAN and SAM standing nearby and mouths “Thank you”. They nod.]
DEAN: Let’s get out of here. [SAM is silent as they begin walking.] You okay? [SAM stops.]
SAM: Dean….it knew about Jessica.
DEAN: Sam, these things—they read minds. They lie, all right? That’s all it was.
SAM: [unconvinced] Yeah.
DEAN: Come on. [He leaves, and SAM follows.]
[Outside the airport, DEAN and SAM are talking to JERRY.]
JERRY: Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed. [He shakes both their hands.] Your dad’s gonna be real proud.
SAM: We’ll see you around, Jerry. [JERRY begins walking back to the building.]
DEAN: You know, Jerry?
JERRY: Yeah?
DEAN: I meant to ask you—how did you get my cell phone number, anyway? I’ve only had it for, like, six months.
JERRY: Your dad gave it to me.
SAM: What?
DEAN: When did you talk to him?
JERRY: Well, I didn’t exactly talk to him, but I called his number, and his voice message said to give you a call. [They nod.] Thanks again, guys. [He walks away. DEAN and SAM exchange a look.]
[Later, DEAN and SAM are sitting on the trunk of the Impala. DEAN is dialing his father’s number.]
SAM: This doesn’t make any sense, man. I’ve called Dad’s number, like, fifty times. It’s been out of service. [DEAN and SAM listen to the voice message on the phone.]
VOICEMAIL: This is John Winchester. I can’t be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean at 866-907-3235. He can help. [DEAN hangs up. SAM, near tears, gets into the car without a word. DEAN follows a moment later. They begin driving away as the screen fades to black.]
THE END.
Ecrit par deanlove35.