6C12 Weißes Rauschen (englisches Transkript)

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Copygif.gif Die Charaktere, Handlungen, Zitate usw., die im folgenden Transkript Erwähnung finden sind © Chris Carter/1013/Fox Entertainment und (in der deutschen Fassung) Cinephon Synchron. Diese Abschrift ist ohne explizite Erlaubnis von den Rechtehaltern von Fans für Fans als Hommage an MillenniuM erstellt worden, wir verfolgen keinerlei finanzielle Absichten. Die Texte selbst sind Eigentum des jeweiligen Autors.


Copygif.gif Transcribed by Libby

Edited by Libby, Used with kind permission from Libby (www.chelonium.plus.com)


MLM-312 6C12 The Sound of Snow

Written by Patrick Harbinson
Directed by Paul Shapiro
Airdate: 5. Februar 1999


Snoqualmie National Forest
Lewis County, Washington


A car drives down a rainy, moonlit road. Inside, a young woman, Carol Wheatley, listens to music, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. On the seat beside her is an opened envelope, addressed to her, and an unmarked audio cassette. As the tape she is listening to comes to an end, she pops it out and picks up the unmarked cassette. She turns it over, not seeming to know what is on the tape, and puts it into the cassette player. There's just white noise and she lets it play a little, then turns up the volume.

Then she notices the rain is turning to snow and smiles. There now appear to be other sounds on the tape. Suddenly, the falling snow thumps into the windscreen, cracking it. Carol slams on the brakes and stops the car on a bend in the road. Outside, there is no sign of snow, only rain. From the inside, the view is of heavy snow. Carol gets out - again there is only rain falling, but Carol sees snow. As Carol looks at the non-existent snow, now lying thickly on the ground, the audiotape continues to play.

Carol is now walking along the road; she hears cracking underfoot. Suddenly a crack appears and she slowly lies down on the road/"ice" to spread her weight. She edges back to the car as more cracks in the "ice" appear. Behind her, the car begins to sink into the ice. Under the ice, cleared of snow as she has moved, appears a figure of a young man, swimming up to the surface of the ice. He has a flashlight and is hitting the undersurface of the ice and calling out. He is unable to break the ice and swims away. Horrified, Carol scrambles to her feet and gets back into the car. She slams the car into reverse and swings the car around to do a U-turn. But she stops, across the other half of the road, just listening to the audiotape. A large truck comes around the bend and sounds its horn, but is unable to avoid the car. Carol looks in horror and screams as the truck hits her.


Stream running through woods. The camera pans through a pine forest.

Jordan VO: Will we always be together?

Frank is lying propped up against a tree. His eyes are closed. Streaks of blood on his face.

Frank VO: I could have saved you. I had a choice.

Close up on Frank's face.

Jordan VO: Will we always be together?

Closer on Frank.

Catherine: I love you.

Fade to black.

Frank is checking his mail - there are several envelopes.


FBI Academy
Quantico, Virginia
Three days earlier


Frank opens one envelope, an internal mailing. All it contains is an unmarked audio cassette. Frank checks the envelope to see who it came from. He looks around the office and picks up a cassette player from a nearby desk, put the cassette in and presses play. There's just white noise. He puts the cassette player close to his ear.

A vision: Snow flakes on the cracked window, the man under the ice, Catherine on the verandah of the yellow house, Catherine saying "I love you", Catherine in the woods, these scenes interspersed with colored static.

Frank checks the envelope again. It's a standard internal mail. The previous names are:

Jeff Gore - Acct. Doug Scaife - Forensics. Victor Chyren - X670.

SWITCHBOARD OPERATOR on phone: We have no-one by that name, sir.

FRANK into phone: Chyren. C-H-Y-R-E-N, extension 670.

OPERATOR: We have no listing for that name and that extension has not been issued.

FRANK: What about outside Quantico?

OPERATOR: We have no listing. Can I help you with anything else, sir?

FRANK: No.

He replaces the phone. He looks at the cassette, the envelope, and then a small framed photograph of him and Catherine and baby Jordan.

He snatches up the envelope and goes to the office of Doug Scaife, whose name appears before the mysterious Chyren.

FRANK: Doug.

SCAIFE: Hey, Mr Black.


FBI Forensic Sound Lab


Doug Scaife, a young man, sits at his desk, surrounded by equipment. Frank shows him the envelope.

FRANK: Do you know this man - Chyren?

SCAIFE: Never heard of him. Why?

Frank hands him the cassette.

FRANK: Do you know what this is?

SCAIFE: Yeah, white noise. Seattle PD sent it over to us. Your old pal, Detective Giebelhouse, found it at a crime scene all torn up. Thought it might have some bearing.

FRANK: Did it?

SCAIFE: We put it together. Ran every test we could. Nothing.

FRANK: Can you play it for me?

Frank sits down. Scaife is a little bemused by the request, but puts the tape into a machine. Frank and Scaife listen through headphones. Scaife, rather bored, looks at a wave track on a monitor. Just white noise. Then, a vision, exactly as before. Frank is puzzled. Scaife takes off his headphones.

SCAIFE: Like I said, twenty seconds of white noise. Nothing.

FRANK: I thought white noise was everything.

SCAIFE: The definition of white noise is every sound on the audio spectrum played at the same level, but in terms of useful sound, everything is nothing.

FRANK: Run it again for me, will you.

Scaife almost sighs, but hits play and puts his headphones on again. Again, white noise.

FRANK: Do you hear anything?

Again, the vision as before, but including an aerial shot of a forested area, and a shriek.

FRANK: What was that?

Scaife taps at the keyboard. The wave trace shows a very brief segment that's different.

SCAIFE: Its wave pattern looks like, technically like a section of pink noise.

FRANK: Pink noise?

SCAIFE: It's a stage between white and brown noise, more ordered than white, less ordered than brown.

FRANK: Then this is not an accident. Someone made it.

SCAIFE: Sure looks that way, but I don't think it's any big...

Frank holds his hand out for the tape. Scaife takes it out of the machine and gives it to Frank.

FRANK: Did you send this to me?

SCAIFE: Getting a little paranoid are we, Mr B?

FRANK: Did you send this to me, Doug?

SCAIFE: No, man, I didn't. Why would I?

Frank turns to leave.

SCAIFE: Hey, how'd you get it anyway. I thought I sent it back to the Seattle PD. Mr Black!

But Frank has left. Scaife leans back in his chair, thoughtful.


Seattle, Washington


A room with several lighted candles. Sounds of sea birds, whales, surf. There is a large table, audio equipment, multiple cassette decks. A strange mix of the spiritual and the technical. A young woman is checking through a phone directory. She searches down a page and stops on "ORIGO, Jerry". She writes on an envelope: "Mr Jerry Origo, 5362 Grant Street, Apt# 512, Seattle, WA 98034". She's using an ink pen and is wearing latex gloves. She places a cassette into its case.

A rural road and a truck, as in the opening scene. The truck drives down the road, sounding its horn. A car is parked, but the truck drives past it. The car is parked off the road, Frank and Giebelhouse standing by it.

GIEBELHOUSE: Three weeks ago last Tuesday. Her name was Carol Wheatley. Going to visit her mom for the weekend. She got hit side-on in the wrong lane by a big rig. Totaled. We were picking bits of her out of the wreck for half a day.

FRANK: She fall asleep?

GIEBELHOUSE: We looked at that. But the driver swore blind that when he first saw her she was stopped on her side of the road. She was outside the car. Then she ran back to the car, got in, and just reversed in front of him.

FRANK: She ran like she was being chased?

GIEBELHOUSE: She ran. Like people run. It was an accident, Frank. Sad and bad. But an accident. I didn't ask them to show you the tape.

Vision: Scenes from the crash.

FRANK: It was snowing.

GIEBELHOUSE: No.

FRANK: And there was ice.

GIEBELHOUSE: No. No ice. The road was fine. pause Frank, how about telling me why you're here.

Frank doesn't respond.


Frank walks up the steps of an attractive, sunny house, and knocks on the door. He pulls out his badge. A woman opens the door.

FRANK: Mrs Wheatley? My name is Frank Black. I work with the FBI. I need to talk to you about your daughter.

MRS WHEATLEY quietly: Come on in.

FRANK: Thank you.

Frank and Mrs Wheatley are sitting in the front room of the house. Photographs of Carol on a table.

MRS WHEATLEY: A truck ran into her car. The police said he must have been doing nearly eighty.

FRANK: The truck driver said she reversed into him.

MRS WHEATLEY: No. No, he hit her. He was doing nearly eighty. The police wouldn't let me see - they had to identify her body from her dental records.

FRANK: Mrs Wheatley, is it possible she did reverse into his truck?

MRS WHEATLEY: Are you trying to say she killed herself?

FRANK: Is that possible?

MRS WHEATLEY: No! She was a happy - she was happy.

Frank's vision: The truck, snow, face under ice, someone calling out.

FRANK: Did somebody drown? They fell through the ice, and drowned.

Mrs Wheatley is shocked, and speechless.

FRANK: Who was it, Mrs Wheatley?

MRS WHEATLEY: His name was Neil Quinn. It was years ago, back east. The ice was too thin. She was light enough and he wasn't. It wasn't her fault.

FRANK: She thought it was.

MRS WHEATLEY: Who are you? How do you know this?

Someone knocks on the front door.

MRS WHEATLEY: Excuse me.

She gets up to open the front door. She returns with Giebelhouse. Frank goes over to him.

FRANK: What's up, Giebs?

GIEBELHOUSE: I called Andy McClaren, Frank. He knew nothing about your trip. Said he certainly hadn't authorized it.

FRANK: I don't need McClaren's authorization.

GIEBELHOUSE: Furthermore, he said the FBI has no jurisdiction in this case and no interest in it - none.

FRANK: No, they don't.

GIEBELHOUSE: Frank, you know I have the greatest respect for you. But you've got to tell me what you're looking at here.

FRANK: I don't know.

GIEBELHOUSE: Jeez, Frank, you never don't know. What is it?

FRANK: I think that Carol Wheatley died because of the tape. There are more tapes.


Very smart room in a bachelor-flat. Small, well-fitted kitchen, dining area, work area, a table with n architect's model, drawing desk. A young man, Jerry Origo, is sorting through his mail. One envelope is the one from the young woman. He takes out the cassette and puts it in a player. The rather bland music that he had been playing is replaced by the white noise from the cassette. He takes notice of this and is puzzled, then perturbed. He notices the fire burning in the grate - the flames grow larger. He quickly extracts the tape. But now he sees the flames extending out from the grate on to the floor, running towards him. Flames now spread up the walls and across the ceiling. He screams.

Fade to black

polaroid fade up

Aerial view of street. A police car is parked by an area of the sidewalk which is roped off with yellow tape. An outline of a body is within the taped area. Frank is looking over the balcony at the scene. He turns and looks at the broken glass balcony door, and then goes back into the room via another door.

GIEBELHOUSE: Hey, Frank. Found this all burned up in the fireplace. Looks like another one of those cassettes. Whether we get anything off it or not is another story. The case was found on top of this envelope. Address is hand-written. Posted yesterday in Seattle. Stamp from three years ago - we're tracing it.

FRANK: The victim?

GIEBELHOUSE: Jerry Origo. He was a designer, rich, single, gay. Maybe he brought the wrong guy home. The neighbors said they heard shouting.

Vision: Gerry screaming, the fire.

FRANK: He burned to death.

GIEBELHOUSE: Frank. The poor son of a bitch went out the window. Six floors down. The ME already confirmed he died of injuries from the fall. Where'd you get this fire stuff?

FRANK: The position he fell in. Pugilistic. He thought he was burning. Look into his past. Go back as far as you can. There'll people dead by fire.

Frank sees that Hollis has arrived.

FRANK to Giebelhouse: Excuse me.

Frank goes over to her.

FRANK: What are you doing here?

HOLLIS: I could ask you the same question. McClaren sent me. He was concerned. He got a call from Detective Giebelhouse.

FRANK: This is none of their business.

HOLLIS: McClaren's view is that if you're using FBI credentials to gain access to crime scenes, to interview people, that is his business.

Frank considers.

FRANK: Someone sent me a cassette through Bureau internal mail, of a crime scene here in Seattle where Carol Wheatley died.

HOLLIS: Who sent it?

FRANK: Someone named Victor Chyren. He doesn't exist. Not in the FBI anyway.

HOLLIS: Is this something to do with the Millennium Group?

FRANK: I don't know.

HOLLIS: Is there a crime here, Frank?

FRANK: Two people received the cassettes. They died from what's on them.

HOLLIS: Do you know why?

Frank shakes his head.


Coffee shop. The young woman is sat at a small table. She looks up from the book she's reading and looks at a man sat at a nearby table, smoking. She is intensely interested, watching as he inhales, seeing in slow motion, sounds amplified.


Tape player. White noise. Frank is handling a broken cassette, the tape jumbled. He's listening to the tape in the machine through headphones, concentrating. Vision: screeching, flames, a monkey, Catherine in the woods, a burning figure. The sequence repeats, then Catherine on the verandah of the yellow house, people in hazmat suits, Peter Watts, Catherine in the woods.

Frank is puzzled.

Another vision: Aerial view of forest, burning man, Catherine on the verandah, monkey, Peter Watts, monkey, screeching, Catherine on the verandah with her hand to her mouth, blood pouring out, "I love you", Catherine in the woods.

Frank pulls the headphones off. Then rewinds the tape and holds the headphones to one year.

Vision: screeching, snowflakes, hypodermic syringe in someone's arm, bloodstream, snowflakes, Catherine smiling, blood into syringe, truck, hazmat team, Catherine on the verandah, Peter Watts, colored static, monkey, Catherine in woods, screech.

Again, Frank pulls the headphones away. He starts listening again. Turns up the volume, concentrating.

Hollis walks into the room, followed by Giebelhouse. Frank rewinds the tape yet again, and listens intently, covering his other ear with his hand. He notices Hollis and Giebelhouse and gets to his feet.

GIEBELHOUSE: You were right about the fire.

FRANK: I was?

GIEBELHOUSE: Twelve years ago Jerry Origo was a building supervisor on a city housing project in New Orleans. Smoke alarm batteries were never installed. The emergency exits were locked shut. There was a fire. Seven people died. Origo was responsible for safety inspections. He was investigated and never charged. You think whoever sent him the tape knew this?

FRANK: I don't know.

GIEBELHOUSE: You think there's some kind of subliminal messages on these tapes.

FRANK: It's possible.

HOLLIS: But the FBI lab found nothing.

FRANK: The soviets worked with bio-acoustical technology back in the seventies. They managed to send commands via white noise bands directly into the subconscious. The technology exists.

HOLLIS: But if the technology were there, why didn't the lab find it?

FRANK: Well, labs can make mistakes.

HOLLIS: But most people aren't affected by the tapes. What do you hear on the tapes, Frank?

FRANK: You know what I think? Some people listen to these tapes and they hear what they most fear hearing. They suffer from massive hallucinations.

HOLLIS: Enough to drive them to suicide?

FRANK: Every choice has a consequence. St Peter's Gate.

HOLLIS: St Peter's Gate?

FRANK: Yes.

HOLLIS: Someone standing in judgment.

FRANK: Yes.

HOLLIS: You still haven't told me why you got sent the cassette in the first place. What does this have to do with you, Frank?

FRANK: I think you have enough to trace who sent the tapes. You have a postmark, you have a signature, you have paper, you, you've got DNA in the spittle on the envelope and the stamps.

Frank goes to leave.

GIEBELHOUSE: What are you doing?

FRANK: I won't be of any use to you. I'm going home.


Suburban road. Rain. Frank driving. He pulls a cassette out of the player and puts in another one. The song is "The Dark End of the Street" by James Carr.

At the dark end of the street
That's where we always meet
Hiding in shadows where we don't belong

Frank seems to be driving aimlessly, but turns left - the road sign says Ezekiel Drive.

Living in darkness to hide our wrong
You and me at the dark end of the street
You and me

He stops on the other side of the road from the yellow house. He gets out, walks over and stand at the gate.

I know time is gonna take its toll
We have to pay for the love we stole
It's a sin and we know it's wrong
Oh but our love keeps coming on strong
Steal away to the dark end of the street
You and me

The yellow house is glowing. He sees Catherine come out of the door and stand on the verandah. Then she walks down the steps and along the path to the gate.

They're gonna find us
They're gonna find us
They're gonna find us, some day
You and me at the dark end of the street

Catherine simply walks past Frank and away.

Music stops.

The front door opens.

MAN: Can I help you?

Frank looks again at the house. Now the light is now longer yellow and the house appears bleached of color.

MAN: I said, can I help you?

FRANK: Yeah, I used to live here. I was just in the neighborhood, I was passing by and I -

MAN: You must be Mr Black.

FRANK: Yeah.

MAN: Don't worry - it's not about the corpse in the basement.

FRANK: What?

The man laughs.

MAN: No, it's the mail. Still getting letters for you.

The man reaches into the hallway and comes out with some mail.

MAN: Had something a couple of weeks back, mostly junk, but, now, given you've come this far, what about a drink?

He hands Frank the mail.

FRANK: No, no. No thanks. You know, it's good to see the place is in such good hands.

MAN: Thanks. Don't know how you lived with the yellow, though.

The man goes back into the house. Frank looks at the mail. One of the envelopes is addressed the same way as the others and appears to contain a cassette.

The music resumes as Frank walks to his car. He looks back. Again the house is glowing yellow, and Catherine stands on the verandah.

Fade to black

polaroid fade up

Rural road. Frank driving. He opens the envelope and puts the cassette into the player. White noise. The scene changes. The sky changes to red. Helicopter noise, forest, screeching, people running through a forest, a monkey. Frank rubs his ear. Helicopter noise, forest, screeching monkey, hazmat team. Watts' voice: "Weapons grade anthrax takes approximately eight thousand microscopic spores to introduce an infection." Blood sample with antidote being given to Frank. Hazmat team. Watts: "The Marburg variant they created in the lab takes three." Frank in isolation room. Watts: "The Millennium Group developed a vaccine." Frank: "So people can be inoculated." Watts: "They only made enough for Group members." Frank: "And their families." Watts doesn't respond. Frank: "And their families, Peter." Screeching, Catherine smiling. Car horn. Frank quickly turns the steering wheel and narrowly avoids a head-on collision. Frank rubs his face with his hand, shocked.


Seattle PD. Giebelhouse and Hollis walk through the office.

GIEBELHOUSE: The letter Jerry Origo received was dispatched from the Hilsborough sub-office. Their vans collect from eighty-three mailboxes. But it's an a.m. timestamp which makes it likely it was mailed either from the post office itself or from one of the twenty-one boxes that have an a.m. pick-up.

HOLLIS: You can cover twenty-one mailboxes?

GIEBELHOUSE: I think so.

Giebelhouse collects his coat.

HOLLIS: Ok. No joy on prints, DNA. Cassette's standard issue - several million sold every year. Paper from Portland, sells everywhere in the north-west. Handwriting - psychoanalysis from Quantico says our guy's a woman but no clue to identify.

GIEBELHOUSE: Then it's the mailboxes.

HOLLIS: Detective Giebelhouse, have you ever seen Frank Black walk away from an investigation before? This was a dead case. He came here, he got it opened up and then he leaves. Does that make sense? I think he was scared of something.

GIEBELHOUSE: Something like what?

HOLLIS: Just before he left Seattle, his wife died in the viral outbreak.

GIEBELHOUSE: Yeah. But even before that things were falling apart. I mean, to this day I still don't understand why they left each other.

HOLLIS: They separated?

GIEBELHOUSE: Catherine was his center. He's never been the same.

HOLLIS: There was somebody who worked with Frank here, in the Millennium Group.

GIEBELHOUSE: Peter Watts.

HOLLIS: Yeah. He was in Seattle at the time of the outbreak. He survived the virus. His whole family did. So did Frank, so did Jordan, but not Catherine. Can you imagine the guilt he must feel.


Forest. Frank drives slowly along a track up to the cabin. He sits in the car, remembering.

Frank: "In the middle ages, during the black plague, people used to gather their families and take them to the mountains and the forest. Away from the population."

He opens the cabin door and looks inside, remembering.

Jordan: "Can we go home now?" Frank: "We're going to be here for a while, sweetheart." Jordan: "OK." Catherine: "Come on, sweetie." Jordan: "Yuk." Jordan: "Mommy, I'll be right outside." Catherine: "Our new yellow house."


A mail box in a hallway. Someone checks three more envelopes with cassettes and then places them in the mail box. As the man turns away, a police officer grabs him.

COP: Hold it right there. Seattle PD. Up against the wall.

MAN: What are you doing, man? Come on, that's my bag.

Giebelhouse, Hollis and other police officers arrive. A cop hands the man's bag to Giebelhouse.

MAN: What's this about, man?

Giebelhouse pulls out an envelope. It contains a cassette-sized object, but the envelope is different. The address is typed on a mailing label, and there is a return address sticker.

GIEBELHOUSE: These yours? Whose are they?

MAN: It's the company I work for.

GIEBELHOUSE: What's this company do?

MAN: It records stuff. You know, nature, waves and crap. Puts babies to sleep.

Hollis holds up the envelope addressed to Jerry Origo.

HOLLIS: Do you recognize the writing?

MAN: Yeah, yeah. It's Alice.


Whale sounds, etc. Alice, the young woman seen earlier, is at a rack of tape recorders. She hears the door downstairs open. She moves to her desk and turns the volume up to maximum. Giebelhouse and Hollis run up the stairs. They enter the room, Hollis covering her ears to block the sound.

GIEBELHOUSE shouting: Alice Severin, is this your handwriting?

ALICE calmly: Yes.

Photographs of the deceased Jerry Origo.

HOLLIS: Do you know this man?

ALICE: I don't believe so.

HOLLIS: You wrote to him.

ALICE: Did I write to him?

HOLLIS: You sent him a cassette.

ALICE: What was on it?

HOLLIS: Nothing. White noise.

ALICE: Is that a crime?

Hollis places some photographs on the desk in front of Alice.

GIEBELHOUSE: Take a good look at those photos. He died. He threw himself off a six-storey building. She died. She reversed her little car straight into a truck. They were both listening to your tapes. What did you do to them? What was on those tapes?

ALICE: You said there was nothing.

HOLLIS: There was white noise.

ALICE: You said white noise was nothing.

HOLLIS: Why send them nothing?

ALICE: Perhaps I was mistaken. I thought it was whale music. Did you know that whales could talk to each other over thousands of miles. We don't hear very well, do we?

HOLLIS: They died horrible deaths. Hallucinating. Like the tapes triggered a connection to their pasts.

ALICE: Our pasts are what we are. Every choice has its consequence.

HOLLIS: St Peter's Gate.

ALICE: Everybody comes to Peter's Gate, not everybody goes through.

HOLLIS: Who judges them?

ALICE: We do.

GIEBELHOUSE: Agent Hollis.

Hollis walk over to him.

GIEBELHOUSE: They found this in her room. It's like a private mailing list. There's hundreds of addresses. We'll check them, but this one we already know. It's where Frank used to live.

They look back at Alice, who smiles.

HOLLIS: We've got to call Frank.


Later. Hollis slams down a phone.

HOLLIS: He checked out of the hotel this morning, but he's not home. He never arrived home.

GIEBELHOUSE: I know where he's gone.


The cabin. Frank sits up against the wall, turning the cassette over and over in his hands, remembering.

Radio commentator: "The early symptoms which the victim may not recognize is a sense of disorientation. Monitor any increase in body temperature -." Catherine: "Can we turn it off. If you both became sick, I wouldn't - I wouldn't want to live after that. Frank: "I can't get sick. It was done to me and I didn't ask for it. The Group gave me a vaccine. They told me that they only had enough for their members."

Frank is pulling the tape out of the cassette.

Catherine discovering the blood on the pillow, her hand, the pustule on her neck, looking at the sleeping Frank and Jordan. Then in the woods, walking away.


Later. The cabin. Night. Frank's breath frosting in the light of the flashlight. Suddenly, he jerks around. He sees Catherine standing by the door.

FRANK: Catherine?

She turns, silent. Frank scrambles to his feet.

FRANK: Catherine. Catherine.

Frank takes her arm and turns her around. Blood streams down her face.

Fade to black

polaroid fade up

Night. Rain. Thunder. Giebelhouse and Hollis are driving down the same rural road as Frank had earlier.

GIEBELHOUSE: By the time the plague hit the news, Frank had gone. We called his house, there was no answer. I went around but the place was empty. Catherine and Jordan had gone too. By that time things were getting pretty wild.

HOLLIS: I remember the reports.

GIEBELHOUSE: Yeah, right. The reports. The way the media took it up you would have thought it was the black plague. The whole of the north-west dropping dead like flies. And the fuss was self-fulfilling. Roads jammed. People shooting at each other in stores, at junctions. National Guard protecting the hospitals. And then it just went away. It vectored out, they said. At most it took about eighty people. Bad enough, but not the end of the world like some people thought.

HOLLIS: Strange he left town. It's almost as if Frank had some kind of warning.

GIEBELHOUSE: Yeah. Didn't do him a lot of good. A lot of people had taken to the mountains, trying to escape the panic in the city. Either the virus was already in them, or it followed them.

Jordan running through the forest to a road. An army vehicle stops and she runs up to it.

GIEBELHOUSE: Frank had come up here too, to a cabin he had. It's where we found Jordan, or she found us.

Jordan looks up at Giebelhouse on the army vehicle, dressed in a hazmat suit.

GIEBELHOUSE: She told us where we could find Frank.

Hazmat team with flashlights and guns searching through the forest.

GIEBELHOUSE: When we got to him he was in a terrible state, refusing to speak. I found out later he blamed the outbreak, Catherine's death, the whole thing, he blamed it on the Millennium Group.

HOLLIS: I think he blamed it on himself.

Their car stops outside the cabin. They hurry into the cabin, but it's empty.

GIEBELHOUSE: If he's out in the woods, he won't survive. It's freezing out there.

Hollis sees the tape and envelope on a table.

HOLLIS: He was sent a tape. Just like the others.

GIEBELHOUSE: Where is he?

HOLLIS: He went to find his wife.

They hurry out of the cabin.

HOLLIS: Frank! Frank!


Frank is running through the forest.

FRANK: Catherine!

Catherine looks at him then turns and walks on. Frank follows, running.

FRANK: Catherine! Catherine!

He slips, and falls down a steep slope, tumbling over and over.

The stream as in the opening scene, the forest. Frank is lying propped up against a tree.

Frank: "I could have saved you. I had a choice. Jordan: "Will we always stay together?" Catherine: "I love you."

Frank is lying propped up in Catherine's arms. His eyes open. Catherine kisses his forehead.

FRANK: Oh, Catherine.

CATHERINE: Sssh.

FRANK: Am I dead?

CATHERINE: Hush. You're hurt.

FRANK: I want to be with you. Every day I want to be with you.

CATHERINE: Oh, Frank, don't.

FRANK: And then I look at Jordan, I look at our daughter's face, and day after day she looks more and more like you. I can't let go.

CATHERINE: You have to protect her.

FRANK: I didn't protect you.

CATHERINE: There was nothing you could have done.

FRANK: They wanted me to join them, and they wanted me to join the Group and then you'd be saved. Peter Watts' family's alive. His daughters have a mother. They set the table and she sits down to eat. You know that Jordan sets an empty place? Every night. Every night she sets an empty place and I can't, I'll never ask her to stop. Believe in them and you'll be saved.

CATHERINE: You chose me, not them.

FRANK: Then I lost you. Jordan lost her mother. You would be alive.

CATHERINE: To live what kind of life? They had already taken too much of you. We beat them. All of their protections and their mysteries and their power. You chose me. We chose each other.

FRANK: I let you die. You walked away alone to die.

CATHERINE: You don't remember very well. You were with me. When everything had fallen apart, you stayed with me. We were together.

The scene changes, the light is sepia toned, and this time Frank is holding Catherine.

FRANK: I love you. Don't go.

Catherine dies in his arms.

FRANK: Don't go, Catherine.


The forest. Hollis and Giebelhouse searching. Hollis sees Frank lying propped up against a tree.

HOLLIS: Oh, my god. Frank!

GIEBELHOUSE: Oh, dear lord.

Giebelhouse takes off his coat.

HOLLIS: No, he's warm. He's alive. Feel.

Giebelhouse covers Frank with his coat.

HOLLIS: Oh, Frank. It's going to be OK. Hang in there, OK? Hang in there.


Sounds of sea birds, whales, surf. Alice's recording studio. She listens. The same faint smile on her face.


FBI office.

HOLLIS: Frank! Frank, I've got something for you. Victor Chyren, the name on the internal envelope that came to you? It's in Nostradamus.

FRANK: Yeah. Century six. Quantrain 70.

HOLLIS: You knew?

He shows her the internal mail envelope.

FRANK: Extension six seventy.

HOLLIS: Well, listen to this. "Chyren, the chief of the world, the great Chyren, with the sole title, victor."

FRANK: At the end of the world. It's a prophecy. It's the Millennium Group again.

HOLLIS: Is Alice part of it?

FRANK: No. She has great power. They will either appropriate it or destroy it.

HOLLIS: The Group sent you the tape. What were they trying to do? Kill you?

FRANK: Oh. You know that list that you found at the studio? The list of names?

HOLLIS: Mm mm.

FRANK: Giebelhouse called. He checked it all out. No more deaths. Now I don't know what their intentions were. But I know what happened. They gave me my wife back.

Frank smiles.


Forest. Snowflakes. Catherine. She smiles. Then fades away as the snow continues to fall.

fade to black