EXT. WOODS – NIGHT

Jill, covered in blood, races through the woods. She stops, thinks for a second, then turns and heads back towards Camp Wick.

EXT. CAMP WICK – NIGHT

Jill reaches the camp. The sheet spread across the trees, which had previously shown the camp members the videos of the killer's previous murders now shows a scoreboard – with pictures of each camp member. Ian, who had been previously killed, has his face blacked out. Devon and Mikey's faces are also crossed off. Leaving only Jill, Richie and Babie.

Jill darts behind a cabin. She sees a truck sitting parked in the middle of the cabin. Seems suspicious … she doesn't have a choice. She prays as she opens the driver-side door – it swings open. She hops into the driver's seat and begins trying to hotwire it. Sparks flare up in her face –

A figure slowly rises in the back seat behind her - - Richie. She sees his face in the rearview mirror and she flops out of the car onto the gravel. She rises to her feet - -

Riche exits the car and calls to her as she runs.

RICHIE: Jill! Jill - - STOP!

JILL: (over her shoulder) You must think I'm really stupid -.

RICHIE: Yes, if you don't STOP!

Jill runs towards the tree – a BEAR TRAP SNAPS ON HER LEG! She cries out, falling on her side, blood pouring from her legs. Richie sighs, rolls his eyes, and stands over her. She looks up, her hair dangling over her face. She stares back defiantly.

JILL: You think I'm going down that easy, you got another thing coming –

RICHIE: I'm not going to kill you, Jill.

JILL: Oh yeah, sure, like I'm going to believe you.

RICHIE: (sees her struggling) Here.

He kneels down, grips the springs of the bear trap, applies pressure. Its teeth open somewhat.

RICHIE: Can you pull your leg free?

Jill slides her bleeding leg out of the trap. Richie observes it.

RICHIE: Doesn't look too bad. This place is rigged with traps. I found that out when one of these almost snagged me down by the creek. My foster dad used to take me hunting, taught me how to watch for traps.

JILL: (limping to her feet) Before you killed him?

RICHIE: Yes.

JILL: (suspicious) Why were you hiding in that truck? Waiting to ambush me?

RICHIE: Waiting for this whole thing to blow over. Shit, you think I want to kill any of you?

JILL: Oh Mr. Stab-Mommy-And-Daddy suddenly has a conscience?

RICHIE: You don't know shit.

JILL: Try me.

RICHIE: First let's get those wounds looked at. The medical cabin's just over there. Grab my shoulder.

JILL: Fuck no.

RICHIE: Fine. Bleed out for all I care. Let Babie come find you in this condition. She's not too bright, but even she's not stupid enough to let a wounded victim go.

JILL: (grudgingly) Fine.

Richie slings her arm over his shoulder and helps her limp to the medical cabin.

INT. MEDICAL CABIN – NIGHT

Richie grips Jill by the waist, hoists her onto a medical table. She sits upright.

RICHIE: Alright, let's check out those wounds.

JILL: You have a medical degree too?

RICHIE: No. Just a knowledgeable foster dad that felt I needed lessons in manhood. Taught me to hunt, trap, survive in the wilderness. Basic first aide.

He kneels down, removing Jill's boot and sock, rolling her pant leg up. Several nasty gashes. He grabs some antiseptic.

RICHIE: This is gonna hurt. Like a lot. Fair warning.

Jill grabs a towel from a nearby table, sticks in her mouth and bites down as he pours antiseptic on her leg. He begins wrapping bandages as Jill tosses the towel aside.

JILL: You seem awfully complimentary of your foster dad, considering you murdered him and your mother.

RICHIE: I didn't murder him. It was self-defense.

JILL: Oh sure, just like Ian was innocent too.

RICHIE: Ian was innocent. That's the thing, the justice system can be real fucked up sometimes. And when you had a prosecutor who wanted to be DA and a lazy defense attorney who was only there because he was court-ordered and a foster dad who put on a respectable face to the entire community … you do the math. Who were they gonna believe? Some punk kid like me, always in trouble, skipping school, doing drugs …

JILL: Okay. So how was it self-defense? Hmm? Killing your step-mom and dad?

RICHIE: Who says it was me who killed my stepmom?

JILL: You mean –

RICHIE: Yeah. My stepdad taught me a lot of useful things, but he also was an abusive son of a bitch. He used to beat me senseless. Look, I got the scars to prove it.

He lifts his shirts, shows Jill numerous scars and old bruises that never healed.

JILL: I'm sorry …

RICHIE: (putting his shirt back on) He only adopted me to put on a show for the community. Put on a respectable face. "Look at me, how kind-hearted I am." Yeah, you think the justice system is fucked, just look at the foster system. At home, he was completely a different person. He told me how useless I was every single day. That as soon as I was 18 that I could expect to be out the door. How big of a burden I put on him. I never knew what it was like having parents that actually gave a damn.

Jill lowers her eyes. She's holding back tears, remembering her own childhood with Kate, remembering how small she felt, how unnoticed her own mother made her feel.

RICHIE: And then he'd come home drunk and beat me senseless. Beat my stepmother too. One night he went too far, beat her to a pulp. I stepped in to defend her, didn't realize he'd already killed her, thought she was only unconscious. And he comes at me with a knife, we struggled … for the first time in my life I stood up to him. I got ahold of the knife, stuck him right in the gut. Try to protect someone and look where it gets you.

JILL: What about your real parents?

RICHIE: I was adopted as soon as I was born. Never met them.

JILL: Did you at least ever find out who they were?

RICHIE: Yeah. But being in prison tends to limit your ability to reach out. I sent letters though. None returned. I guess a kid convicted of killing his stepparents wouldn't exactly be a kid you want to get to know. Especially after you put the kid up for adoption as soon as he was born.

JILL: Hey – I'm sorry. Your life sounds tough -.

RICHIE: Don't try to act like you understand me …

JILL: No, I don't. Not fully. My own mother never had time for me. True, she never abused me … but she never acknowledged me either. Too focused on Tatum and my other family members and all the suffering they endured. But what about me? I was a nobody.

RICHIE: That why you tried to kill everyone?

JILL: In part. I wanted to be seen. To have someone care about me …

RICHIE: You seem like you have an awful lot of people who care about you. What about that girl who used to come visit you?

JILL: Nicky? Yeah, she's alright. She stayed close after my arrest, realized that I turned over a new leaf and all that.

RICHIE: Ever think about if your life could've been different? If you hadn't planned a murder spree?

JILL: I try not to. I don't dwell in "what ifs" anymore.

RICHIE: Good advice. I wonder sometimes. What if my parents had wanted me? What if they kept me, raised me? Where would I be, where would I go to school, who would my friends be? Shit, would I have met a pretty girl?

JILL: (teasing) You know, I'm not exactly chopped liver here …

RICHIE: No. No you're not … There, all finished. The bleedings stopped and you're all bandaged up. Feel better?

Jill flexes her leg.

JILL: Wow, you do know what you're doing.

He adjusts the final layer of bandages.

RICHIE: We should get moving.

JILL: Yeah, we should.

She notices that Richie's hand is lingering on her leg. A part of her doesn't want him to stop. She's suddenly feeling flushed. One look at Richie's face and his deeper breathing … there's some sexual tension growing. She notices how Richie is gently, sensually, caressing her leg and foot.

RICHIE: Right. We should get a move on.

JILL: You just said that.

RICHIE: Yeah. Right. I did.

He stands up as Jill puts her sock and shoe back on. She hops onto her leg which has now been splinted. She wobbles but has a steady balance.

THE LIGHTS FLARE OUT.

RICHIE: Shit.

JILL: Babie?

RICHIE: Maybe. Stay close.

The two back away together – they find a secondary door. Richie back-kicks it and they slowly back out.

EXT. CAMP WICK – NIGHT

The two back away from the camp, looking in all directions. They reach a tree – A NOOSE DROPS FROM ABOVE, WRAPPING AROUND RICHIE'S NECK! He gags, lifting several inches off the ground. Another trap.

JILL: Richie!

She frantically looks around for something to cut the noose –

RICHIE: (struggling) Behind … you …

Jill turns – THWACK! A LOG smacks her in the head and she goes flying. BABIE is standing there, a giant log in her hand. Jill looks up at her.

JILL: We don't have to do this!

BABIE: It's either you or me. Don't forget, the killer got our friends out there.

JILL: We can stop him!

BABIE: Stopping him here ain't gonna stop his partner out there. Sorry girl. And I was kinda getting to like you there at the end.

She raises her log. Behind, Richie is struggling with the noose. He's losing air fast.

Jill lashes out with her good leg, STRIKING Babie in the gut. Babie merely smiles. She brings the log down – Jill rolls out of the way. Babie grunts. Richie was right – she's big but not too bright. Jill stands … she limps backwards. She steps too hard on her wounded leg and cries out. She realizes – she's at the edge of a hill. At the bottom is a creek.

Babie is CHARGING. She TACKLES Jill. The two struggle and go down the hill together. They SLAM into the ground. Babie grabs Jill by the back of her head, forcing her facefirst into the creek. Jill struggles, thrashing, drowning.

Above, Richie's kicking and struggling is becoming slower, weaker.

Jill grabs a rock from the creek – SMASHES UPWARD INTO BABIE'S head. Babie falls backwards into the creek, the water blossoming red. Jill limps towards the incline of the hill – BABIE grabs her leg.

BABIE: You ain't getting' away bitch!

Jill struggles. Richie is growing weaker. She has only seconds. She HAS to get to him.

BABIE: Wha's wrong? You ain't got that killer instinct after all? Face it – the best killer won!

Those words ring in her head, evoking memories of Jenny from that fateful night. "Goodbye, Jill. The best Ghostface won."

Above, Richie's arms and legs go limp. Jill turns – Babie is grinning maliciously. And she snaps. She grabs a large rock.

JILL: I ain't got it?! I AIN'T GOT IT?!

Babie's eyes widen as she realizes – oh, she screwed up. And Jill SMASHES the rock into Babie's head, pulverizing her into a pulp. She turns, limps up, struggling to scrabble up to the hill. She slips – sees Richie's limp form and grows in her determination.

Jill reaches the top of the hill. She grabs the noose, frees Richie's neck from it, allows him to fall on top of her. She lies him on the ground, lying next to him. His face is white. He's not breathing.

JILL: Richie …! Richie!

She straddles him, pounding his chest, performing CPR. He's not responding. Flashbacks to Trevor lying dead in her living room –

JILL: NO! Not this time! Richie wake the fuck up right now!

She leans in – performs mouth to mouth. Back to his chest, pounding it.

Mouth-to-mouth again, breathing her life into him with everything she has.

His chest rises. His hand rises to the back of her head, caressing it. Their mouth-to-mouth turns into a passionate kiss. He sits up and Jill stares at him.

RICHIE: You … you saved me …

Jill stands up.

JILL: Don't read too much into it.

RICHIE: We kissed. That's not reading anything into anything.

JILL: I gave you CPR. You kissed me.

RICHIE: You kissed me back, there's no denying.

JILL: (blushing) Just shut up and follow me.