paul is jogging through the woods. a light mist hangs in the cool air. the sounds of the forest surround him.

suddenly, the birds stop singing. paul becomes aware of this. he stops running and looks around. the forest is deathly still.

the sound of a twig being crushed underfoot. then nothing.

another moment. paul keeps going, a chill on his spine, looking back over his shoulder.

ext. santa mira

sam heads away from the cabin, his drawing sketch pad under his arm, moving into the woods.

int. cabin -

sam is sitting on a fallen tree trunk, sketching on his drawing pad with a feverish intensity.

close on: the

paul and terry are walking along the trail. searching.

terry

sam?

no reply. her words sound hollow in the empty forest as they keep moving, passing behind huge pine trees that obscure them from view.

a soft breeze rises up and hisses through the trees.

int. cabin -

murky and still. a few shafts of sunlight permeate the gloom.

paul is jogging along the trail, keeping a steady pace, the sounds of the forest all around him.

ext. creek