(Name of Project)by(Name of First Writer)(Based on, If Any)Revisions by(Names of Subsequent Writers,in Order of Work Performed)Current Revisions by(Current Writer, date)Name (of company, if applicable)AddressPhone Number

INT. COCKPIT, 767 COMMERCIAL AIRLINER - MORNINGIn white font: Over PennsylvaniaClosed and locked cockpit door viewed from pilots’ side.Peephole at eye level. Scratching from the other side of thedoor: passenger cabin. Neither frantic nor forceful, butconstant-quiet-probing. It stops.POV switches: 2 pilots stare at the door. Bloodshotintensity. Behind their heads, through the windshield: 20,000feet up in cloudless blue. 29 year-old CO-PILOT with ahandset in one hand, pistol in the other. Keys the handset tosummon a Flight Attendant. We hear the resulting DING fromthe other side of the door - a second of anticipation - thensomebody or something slams the door with massive, heartstopping force and sound. Pilots flinch huge.60 year-old PILOT stands, thin veneer of cold sweat. Peersout the peephole: just the back of someone's head.PILOTStill there. Same head.CO-PILOTWhat is going on? We might be deadPILOT-don’t talk Death in my cockpitCO-PILOT-SHUT UP. Fine-the scratching again. Pilot sits. Ground Control calls:CONTROL (ON RADIO)Trans 344: under no circumstanceshould you open cockpit door! Copy?Quick eye contact between the 2 pilots. Anger forgotten.PILOTWhat have you found out?CONTROL (ON RADIO)Incidents at O’Hare, SFOCO-PILOT-don’t say ‘incident’ okay? Don’tsay ‘incident.’ What is going on?

2.INT. VOLVO - MORNINGIn white font: PhiladelphiaGridlock on I-95, in Philadelphia proper. In the Car: GERRYLANE, 43, his wife KARIN, 38, and their daughters RACHEL, 10,and CONSTANCE, 6. Constance plays with dolls. Rachel reads.Until she gets too nauseous, looks out the window until shefeels better, then starts reading again. Car inching along.NPR (ON RADIO)Despite intense street fighting andinternational condemnation, Israeliconstruction crews continue workinground-the-clock to finish the‘Enhanced Security Wall’ that willseal the whole of that Nation’seastern border.Gerry’s face: an audible exhale, small shake of his head.KARINDepressing.NPR (ON RADIO).two more groups of workers wereattacked near Bethlehem.Traffic?That too.GERRYKARINNPR (ON RADIO)Cuba has extended the ‘temporaryfreeze’ on all flights into thatcountry for another day due tocontinuing Mad Cow fears.Connie, now playing with a pudgy little stuffed cow:CONNIEWhat’s Mad Cow?GERRYInstead of mooing as you drive by,Mad Cows yell at you: ‘Slow down!’Connie laughs. Rachel a budding smart ass - without takingher eyes out of her book:RACHELIt’s a horrific brain disease-

3.-enough.GERRYJaunty piano jazz on the radio now, then:NPR (ON RADIO)I’m Terry Gross. Today on FreshAire I’ll talk to Adam Skilken,author of God plays in my Jug BandKARIN-rag on me for falling asleep onroad trips, but you leave it onGERRY-turn it then. We’re in Philly:there’s gotta be Morning Zoo-typesfarting into a mic somewhere.Big laughs from his girls. That same instant, a blue AirportShuttle Van roars past on the shoulder at 70 MPH. Machrelative to the gridlock. In the flash of it’s passing, wethink we spot movement in the back. Something subliminallydisturbing about the glimpse. Karin and Gerry lose theirsmiles for reasons they can’t name. Van takes the nearestexit, Gerry following it with his eyes.KARIN (O.C.)Were those sirens always up there?Gerry looks at his wife, then to where she points: in thedistance, a line of emergency lights stretch across theInterstate - just in front of and beneath the Ben FranklinBridge. Gerry grimaces at what he’s sure is a big accident.Looks again at the exit the Van took.and exits himself now.The very moment he commits, Fresh Aire is interrupted by theugly beeps of the Emergency Broadcasting System.FLASH TO BLACK.Then the Title Card in white font:WORLD WAR ZStill over black. Chest-felt reverbs of a helicopter. Then:UNKNOWN VOICEI HAVE NO IDEA, HON, AND RIGHT NOWI DON’T CARE - I JUST KNOW THEY’RETHE ENEMY! NOW GO GET THE GRANDKIDS-the sound of a jet passing by so close and fast it hurts-

4.UNKNOWN VOICE (CONT’D)-JESUS CHRIST!INT. UH-60 BLACK HAWK HELICOPTER OVER PHILLY - HIGH NOONGray-haired BRIGADIER wearing a headset, the mouthpieceflipped up and one of the earpieces pulled back so he cantalk on a personal cell. An A-10 has just streaked past theopen door, close enough to touch.In white font: 3 hours laterBrigadier takes the phone away, flips down the Headset’smouthpiece to address his pilots:BRIGADIER/UNKNOWN VOICETELL THESE AMERICAN AIRLINE WEEKENDWARRIORS IF THEY GIVE US ANOTHERCLOSE SHAVE(remembers his phone call)-JENNY? I’M NOT SWEARING GOD DAMNIT, BUT I WILL IF YOU DON’T MOVE!SWEETIE, I’LL SEE YOU AT THE LAKE.EVERYTHING IS GONNA BE OKAY. GO.Pockets the phone. Turns to a COLONEL sitting next to him:BRIGADIERWE ARE LOST IF WE DON’T STARTHITTING WITH ARTILLERY!He and we finally look down: breathtaking. In orbit above theBen Franklin Bridge. 10,000 dark FORMS on the Jersey side,trying to cross into Philly by bridge or river: hundreds ofthese FORMS splashing into the Delaware. Just in front ofthem, on both the bridge and in the water, masses of panickedHumanity fleeing those FORMS.4 A-10s take turns strafing the FORMS, hitting the rear ranksof Humans every other pass. Abandoned cars in the midst ofthis on the bridge and leading up, burst into pieces/flames,obliterating everything and everyone nearby.BRIGADIER (O.C.) (CONT’D)I WANT DIRECT LINES TO THOSE PILOTSCOLONEL-THEY’RE AIR FORCEBRIGADIER-RELAY THE FOLLOWING: GENIUSES, THEHUMANS DOWN THERE AREN’T THEPLAYING FIELD, THEY’RE THE PRIZE!

5.On the Pennsylvania side of the bridge below, a formation ofSoldiers and Stryker Vehicles finally getting into position,filling out barely coherent lines held by Philly Police.Brigadier happy about that. Then he looks out the other sideof the Chopper now: Center City. Dark throngs branching outin all directions, glimpsed between gaps in the buildings.Loses his ephemeral good feeling. To the Colonel:BRIGADIER (CONT’D)WHERE ARE THE APACHES AND ARMOR SOI CAN GET BETWEEN THE SKYSCRAPERSCOLONEL-STILL GETTING SIGN-OFF ON ARMOR:THEIR TREADS DESTROY THE STREETS.Brigadier stares back at the Colonel. Gape mouthed. Like he’sonly now appreciating the extent and depth of the Confederacyof Dunces arrayed against him. Yelling but hopeless:BRIGADIERTHEN BLASTING JERSEY WITH ARTILLERYIS GONNA TAKE A SENATE HEARING-on cue and just behind his head: artillery rounds suddenlyhammering the dark throng on the Jersey side of the bridge.Finally. Concussive blasts audible over the din of the rotorsCOLONEL-NO, THEY’RE COOL WITH THAT.EXT. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN BRIDGE - DAYSoldiers and Cops who make up the frontlines, most halfdressed in a mufti of running shoes, jeans, as well as bitsof official kit (speaks to how quickly this War came) CHEERas artillery detonates in great plumes. Within those plumeswe see dozens of FORMS billow into the sky, come apart.In white font: The Battle of PhiladelphiaArtillery blasts coming like the tides now as refugeescontinue surging through the line. The visible, misty, speedof-sound concussions caused buy the massive detonations rollover us continually, knocking people off their feet. But theSoldiers keep encouraging/helping, confidence rising witheach masochistic blast from unseen Howitzers.Then pieces of those FORMS obliterated by this cannonadebegin falling back to Earth. Land like wet bombs, along withall the sundry lacerating shrapnel. Perch on the shoulder ofa 19 YEAR OLD SOLDIER now.

6.Watch pieces/bodies rain down on the desperate Human mass infront of us: 5-10 people at a time hit, injured, crushed.Then a legless, armless body hits right next to us. Dark,syrup-thick blood spatters all. This shredded body liesinert.eyes liquefied from the blast that tore it apart.Head broken open. Ghastly. Smoking. And then it beginssnapping it’s jaws at the empty air, at our existence.It’s teeth chip-splinter-break from the force with which itbites empty air: this distinctive, disturbing sound like wolftraps opening and closing rapid-fire, but mixed with thetinkling of glass or enamel breaking. The biting is rhythmic,mechanical - like this thing is a vastly lesser form of lifenow, cursed by DNA to some Sisyphean task in the food chain.10 nearby Soldiers simply stare at the immobile but viciousthing, as artillery continues blasting, A-10s continuestrafing. It’s dead in every meaningful way, but justcontinues snapping.all of it’s remaining teeth broken andchipped. 19 year old figuring things before anyoneelse.smashes the FORM’S face with the heel of his boot:19 YEAR OLDSTOP SHELLING! STOP THE SHELLING!THE PIECES - THEY’RE NOT DYING-on cue: collective screams from multiple points within theonrush of Humanity now. Punctuating roars you would hear at astadium if the home team made a monumental error - attackssuddenly sprouting in the midst of these would-be refugees danger no longer confined to the rear. Soldiers scream forpeople to hurry, shoving them behind the “lines.”19 year-old lifts his rifle - frustration ripples his face.Begins tapping the futuristic but broken eye-piece on hishelmet - so he doesn’t see another legless FORM nearly landon a woman 15 yards in front of him who is carrying her kid.FORM latches onto the heel of her boot, trying to trip herwith one operable arm. She can’t reach down to extricateherself for fear of letting go of her child. Shakes her footlike mad - then blood leaks from the boot as the FORM getsthrough to skin. Drops to her knees, wide-eyed vacant now asthe FORM bites it’s way up the back of her leg, pullingitself up with it’s jaws and good arm.19 year-old just rips the eye piece off now. Brings the ironsights of his rifle up to his naked eye - in time to see thiswoman, no longer crying, still on her knees, repeatedlybiting into the neck of her own child now, her suddenlycataract-cloudy eyes fixed on the 19 year-old. 19 year-oldreflexively fires the first rifle shots of the War at herbefore he realizes it: an ear-piercing burst from his M4.

7.And everything suddenly, weirdly, goes silent for a moment a lull between artillery blasts and strafing jets - like theEarth is catching her breath for what comes next. Theneveryone on that bridge with a weapon pulls the trigger.Thousands of refugees still down-range, some just steps fromprovidence when the guns roar. A God-sized scythe swinging attwice the speed of sound across a horizon-wide field ofwheat. People jumping off the sides of the bridge now toescape all - and dozens of FORMS follow them right over.FORMS suddenly at the feet of the Soldiers, jaws snap combatboots. Bitten soldiers fall.then several seconds later,when you least expect it, turn on Men and Women next to them.No time to reload so Soldiers pull sidearms and shotguns andknives and breaching hammers on the backpedal. Old Testamenthand-to-hand. Feral grunts and yips of Men and Women fightingnot necessarily for life but to stave off violent death.Fog of War means we still don’t get a prolonged look at theFORMS. Certainly not time enough to ponder them, make anysort of peace with what they are. But we do note oneextraordinarily disturbing thing about the FORMS during thisfight: they make no noise. No textbook moaning. No soundwhatsoever outside of the friction and flex of physicalmovements, and that mechanical sound made by the breaking oftheir teeth when they bite and miss.The frontline breaks. Overwhelmingly. Soldiers flee. 19 yearold still fights. Smashing FORMS with a breaching hammer, hisbreath ragged. Then a massive ‘POP’ sound above our headsrips POV up: one of the A-10s has indeed collided with theBrigadier’s Black Hawk, atomizing the plane’s wing and thechopper’s tail. A-10 pilot ejects - a second ‘pop’ sound-19 year-old blind-sided by one of his own who has turned,knocked to the ground, bitten a dozen times by the pile ofFORMS writhing at his feet.INT. THE LANES’ VOLVO STATION WAGON - DAYGerry’s eyes bloodshot, disbelieving. Connie bawls. Rachelstares out at the World, wide-eyed. Karin coos. Center City.100s of fire alarms: farrago of bells, whoops, whistles.Unseen gunfire of all calibers echo off building facades.Rhythmic artillery bass underlying all. Pass an OBESE COP:OBESE COPSTAY IN YOUR CARS NO MATTER WHAT!MAKE SURE DOORS AND TAILGATES ARELOCKED! GET HOME-GET HOME-a ricocheting round from nowhere smacks our windshield massive speed, sound. Safety glass shatters in it’s frame.

8.CONSTANCEI WANT MY BATH ROBE!Karin unbuckles, turns in her seat now.KARINIt’s packed Baby. I can’t get to it-Gerry reaches a hand back to pat Connie’s foot. Ducking tofind a clear spot in the glass now. A MOTORCYCLE COP suddenlyroars past them, weaving his massive, festooned Harleythrough traffic. Passes us head-on and inches away, tearingthe Volvo’s sideview mirror off with his handlebar. And he’sscreaming totally contradictory orders into his PA:MOTORCYCLE COPGET OUT OF YOUR CARS! TOO LATE TORUN! GET BACK INTO YOUR BUILDINGS!Gerry, head turned to the Motorcycle Cop, hits a curb thatblows the right front tire, gouges the under-belly. Karinslams into the roof. Hard. Rubbing her head now, trying togather herself. To Gerry:KARINWe’re not getting out of this car.MY ROBE!CONSTANCE (O.C.)Karin turns back again, points to one of the stuffed animalsin Connie’s lap - a mouse wearing a business suit:KARINSnuggle with Subway SamCONSTANCE-NO! I WANT MYGERRY-CONNIE! SUBWAY SAM GOD DAMN IT!Swerves hard to avoid a car. Radio blaring static. Conniehugs Subway Sam, and the toy talks in this goofy voice:SUBWAY SAMHere comes the #12 Train! Let’scount! 1, 2, 3-Gerry punches the static-ridden radio off. Rubs Karin’s legout of connubial habit, grabs his cell with the same hand.

9.INT. AN OFFICE IN A HIGH RISE - DAYIn white font: UN Building, New York CityEvacuation bedlam. Out the window: pillars of black smokeproliferate. Phone ringing as a tall African Man, THIERRYUMUTONI, packs furiously. Scoops up framed pictures - severalof he and Gerry from years ago - stuffs them into a backpack-a bomb blast blows out his windows, knocks him down. 2seconds pass. He stands back up, face and hands bleeding now,dusts himself off, grabs an unopened box of pens, dumps theminto his bag, begins walking out. Phone starts ringing again.Looks at it as he walks past it. Stops. Grimaces at hisdecision to delay, answer. Blood dripping on the handset:GERRY (ON PHONE)How ‘bout this Indian Summer?THIERRYGerald my friend, where are you?GERRY (ON PHONE)Philly - driving back from Karin’sfolksTHIERRY-turn aroundGERRY (ON PHONE)-can’t: they’re in Baltimore. Whatis this?Thierry flinches as more bombs detonate outside his window:THIERRYThe End I think.INT. VOLVO - NEXT MOMENTGerry’s face drains of color, hope.GERRYYou don’t believe in God.That response causes Karin to put her hand to her forehead.THIERRY (ON PHONE)Then I saw them Gerry. They bite.GERRYI’m collecting on your debt,Thierry.(MORE)

10.GERRY (CONT'D)I remember the evac plans: you’repulling Diplomats from the wholeregion right nowTHIERRY (ON PHONE)-Philadelphia isn’t in that regionGERRY-I got you from Kigali to Tanzaniain a diesel runnin’ on kerosene. Ican get from Philly back to NewYork in a God damn VolvoCONNIE (O.C.)(still crying)-DADDY! SWEARING!THIERRY (ON PHONE)Drive very fast. Safe Zone beingset-up on Randall’s Island. Mycell: 917-917-5557-Gerry zips around a jack-knifed Semi desperate to straightenout: backing into/thru other cars, people. Drops the phone.Karin reaches, scoops it, puts it in her bag. Gerry to Karin,quietly, like he’ll jinx it if he speaks too loud:GERRYWe got hope-his eyes catch on the rearview mirror: Rachel not in herseat. Snaps around: she’s balled up behind in the footwell.GERRY (CONT’D)Rach! Jesus baby you gotta buckle-hammered blindside/broadside by another car. Airbags burst.Underwater half-silence of ringing ears. Gerry blinks backairbag dust. Nose bleeds parallel rivers. Almost knocked out.Penetrating sound of his family crying.Of course only now does he see a wide-open entrance ramp toan elevated freeway: a Military blockade in the process ofabandoning their post. Enraged at his luck, the other driver.Just as he’s about to spew invective, he sees the otherDriver and Passenger are bloody, unconscious. To his family:GERRY (CONT’D)OUT-OUT-MOVE-

11.EXT. STREET - NEXT MOMENTPile out the Passenger’s side. Dazed-bleeding-crying. Karinfirst, Gerry just behind, still unsteady from the impact,falls ugly as soon as he gets out of the car, splashing intorivers of anti-freeze and transmission fluid.Cars roar past now, all exploiting the sudden opening, inchesaway from he and Karin as they pull their shell-shockeddaughters from the crippled Volvo. Rachel stays in a fetalball as Gerry lifts her. Karin hoists ConnieKARIN-PLEASE GOD NO-Gerry turns to look at what prompted this fundamentalprayer: 2 blocks back, in the intermittent shadows of midrises, hundreds of low FORMS swarm - and now is the veryfirst time we see the FORMS for more than a second. Zombies.No better description. Some damaged: limbs hanging/gone, butevery one of their faces placid seeming, entirely focused.Their ranks know no discrimination either: women, men,elderly, child, black, white, obese, starving, rich, poor.In the relative open of the boulevard, we see that theZombies move like flocks of birds rather than groups ofpeople. Almost synchronized - nobody leading but everybodyleading. Again, the feeling that Mother Nature is still atwork. Flock flows over and into traffic-hemmed vehicles.People clambering out are jumped, bitten, turned.Connie drops Subway Sam. Gerry just behind with Rachel, seesit, but steps over it. Connie bawls even louder, lunges forthe toy, knocking her Mom off balance.SUBWAY SAM (O.C.)Here comes the #10 train!Gerry growls with frustration, turns, reaches down for thetoy, his eyes though can’t help but be pinned on Zombiespulling a father, roughly Gerry’s age, out of a mini-van.Gerry snatches Subway Sam, squints with a half-formedthought, brings the toy to his ear, pressing Rachel’s headinto his shoulder with his other hand. Begins backpedalingnow so he can continue to watch the attack.SUBWAY SAM (O.C.) (CONT’D)Let’s count! 1-three different Zombies bite the Father on the top and sidesof his head repeatedly just as Subway Sam says:2, 3, 4-SUBWAY SAM (O.C.) (CONT’D)

12.-the Father flails, stumbles, and falls into the quarterpanel of a cab, then begins crawling to nowhere, leakingbright red blood from a dozen wounds. Gerry silently mouthingthe count right along with Subway Sam-5, 6, 7-SUBWAY SAM (O.C.) (CONT’D)-that instant the red blood turns black before our eyes. TheFather stands now, and along with a dozen other Zombiesbegins punching the cab’s windows. Gerry stops just mouthingnow, and actually says out loud:8.GERRYTakes the doll away from his ear. Turns. Sprints. Catches upwith Karin. Grabs Constance so he has both girls. Moreblessed vehicles fly up the entrance ramp. Karin waving atthem. She would have a better chance stopping the Earth’srotation than one of these cars.Two cars smash through the mass of runners. Gerry watchesseveral get back up: bloody, broken, resume their escape.Sound of an engine rips our attention back to the immediate:an RV cuts off a Pick-Up to make it to the salvation of theramp. Pick-Up smokes the tires to stop, but they fender-bend.Without hesitation the passenger of the Pick-Up, 2 feet fromthe RV, opens fire with a pistol: pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop. RVDriver and Passenger riddled. Pick-Up then simply grindsthrough the RV’s fender, continues up the ramp.Gerry blinks back a mix of shock, revulsion. Then drops hiseyes to the RV’s exhaust pipe: issuing gray wisps.EXT. RV - NEXT MOMENTKarin tries to keep the kids away from the door as Gerrypulls bodies out. People stream past, quieter now as theZombies close: all energy focused on flight. As Gerry laysthe driver down, his eyes catch Rachel’s: staring at thewounds. No time to reassure: others notice the RV’s emptydriver’s seat. Gerry shoves his family in, locks the doors.INT. RV - NEXT MOMENTWindshield pocked, blood stained. Driver’s side window blown.Quick glance at the sideview: Zombies 20 yards and closing.Humans smacking the sides of the vehicle.but Gerry can’topen the door. Or won’t open the door.

13.The wildly desperate try to shove kids and/or pets and/orthemselves into the hole where the driver’s side window was.Then all vanish.One heartbeat later, just as the RV begins moving, a Zombieface pops into the vacancy of the driver’s side window,snapping like a rabid dog, teeth splintering with each miss.A flinch that pulls muscles in his neck saves Gerry’s life. Abite hits the head-rest: explosion of stuffing. Gerry leansover as far as he can, heedless of direction. Karin rearsback and shoves the wheel with her foot so the RV swerves,swipes queued traffic, crushing the Zombie just as more beginhitting the back of the RV.Gerry throws it into reverse to get off the line of cars theyjust hit, begins backing over untold numbers of Zombies.KARINBABY! FORWARD-half dozen appear at Karin’s window, staring in that awfulplacid way, using the butts of their fists to star the safetyglass inches from her face. Blackish, syrup-thick bloodstains the window from where their hands rupture. Karin can’thelp but stare back, moving her eyes between the variouscataract-cloudy-nearly swollen shut sets staring in.KARIN (CONT’D)Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord-Gerry puts the RV back in drive just as they’re surrounded.Roars forward, pushing a Prius ahead of him all the way ontothe exit, and up onto the mostly empty expressway. Keeps hiseyes straight ahead so nothing will contradict his temporaryelation of having maybe escaped. Karin finishes her prayer.Goes quiet. Constance still crying. Gerry scared, amped,sweating, mouth dry as dirt, i.e. not at his best.GERRYI can’t take that right now-Karin goes back, cooing Connie. Then over her shoulder:KARINWhich way we going?Gerry scans for landmarks: the Delaware River on his right.Notices people floating in it - Zombies - placid facesstaring back at him. A Boeing 767 just ahead, low like it’son final approach, grabs his eye.something not adding.I think.GERRY

14.Notices the 767’s landing gear aren’t down. It banks now soit’s moving toward us but off to our left.and never stopsbanking until it’s upside down, streaking right over top theRV at 500 feet, engines deafening, some sort of liquidsplashing down onto the RV/windshield as it passes over.PUSH IN on the 767’s cockpit windows. An upside-down frozenmoment: same Pilot and Co-Pilot we opened with, faces focusedon sacrifice. 767 knifes into the Delaware. A column of mudand water shoots 300 feet in the air. Within that samesecond, a massive explosion seems to ride up that column.Shock-wave pushes the RV across two lanes, crushing a smallersedan into the concrete barrier separating northbound fromsouth. Gerry gets control again, continues on without lookingback at the car he just crushed/disabled. Blood vesselspopped in his eyes now from that shock-wave.4 silent seconds pass as black smoke pours from 50 pointsacross the horizon. Then without fanfare, the starred safetyglass of the passenger side window just falls apart with animpotent ‘pop.’ Half of it crumbling into the empty seat, theother half raining down on asphalt. Gerry looks over atit.maybe divining deeper meanings from the timing.INT. RV - DUSKStill driving. A blanket thrown over his upper body to wardoff the frigid night pouring in through shattered windows.Fidgets with the still-operable GPS system suction-cupped tothe windshield. Avoiding interstates, toll ways.Very few cars on this 2-lane road. All stay away from eachother: a car moves all the way over to the shoulder as Gerryovertakes it. Gerry looks at the Driver: a father with hisown family inside. Eye contact. Then the man waves at Gerry,tentative.and Gerry waves back. Decency still to be found.KARIN (O.C.)There’s a hunting rifle back there.She wipes off the passenger seat, sits, shivering. Bloodshot.KARIN (CONT’D)Connie’s okay. Rach isn’t.Gerry looks in the rear-view mirror: Rachel still balled up,eyes wide. Gerry heartsick.wishing he could scoop her up.KARIN (O.C.) (CONT’D)And we left everything in the Volvo-

15.GERRY(very quiet)-her inhaler.KARIN(similarly so)Small miracle the World endingdidn’t give her an attack.GERRYWe need to stop and find aKARIN-is the World ending? Is that whatThierry said to you?Gerry says nothing. His pained face is answer enough.KARIN (CONT’D)He ever say anything like that whenyou were in Rwanda? Sarajevo?No.GERRY(beat, great question)Karin looks away. Military jets rumble in the distance.EXT. NEW JERSEY WAL MART - DUSKThe kind of neighborhood you might have labelled a ghetto ineasier days, as you sped by on the Acela train, 30 minutesfrom Penn Station. People smashing in and out of the doorsand already broken windows. Most with armfuls of stuff thatwill do them no good: cat litter, frozen food, flat screenTVs, XBOXs, stereos, any and all things electronic.INT. RV - NEXT MOMENTParked in the lot, looking out at this Chaos. Karin handsGerry the rifle. He handles it/loads it like he’s actuallyhunted deer in his life.GERRYI’m not leaving you’renot going in alone.and we’reobviously not leaving the babies.

16.INT. WAL MART - DUSKLights out. Just the remaining day illuminates. Creepy. Karinpushes one cart with Constance sitting in the spot forkids/fruit. Gerry pushes another with Rachel inside, in herfetal ball. Gerry has the hunting rifle from the RV slungover his shoulder. Stays down close to Rachel, whispering.KARINGet her medicine. I’ll get ussomething to eat - been 13 hours.Meet right back here in 3 minutes.GERRY(handing her the rifle)Have this.God no.KARINCUT TO:Karin running. Cart already filled with water, tuna, a loafof bread. Store darker by the second. Snatches 2 backpacksoff a sale rack. Then a nearby aisle heading catches her eye:flashlights, batteries, etc. Turns down: most of it gone.Grimaces, scans, further down this same aisle: automotivesupplies - she hustles - grabs the last pack of road flares.2 men run past, 1 in Dwight Shroot-style SHORT SLEEVES, theother in an APRON from the store - employee. They’re pushinga packed cart too, crap overflowing. Karin smiles small asthey pass. They don’t return it.focus on the backpacks shejust grabbed.and everything else in her cart they mightwant. Apron looks directly at her now.CUT TO:Pharmacy. 7 people ransacking. Pharmacist face down, pool ofblood. Gerry unslings the hunting rifle now: ready in case.Pulls Rachel out of the cart. She clings to him like amonkey. Gerry stares at shelves of impenetrably named drugs.UNKNOWN VOICE (O.C.)What you need?Turn: a 22 year-old kid, METH, behind us, holding a hatchet.Loaded moment during which this encounter goes 1 of 2 ways.Gerry maintains eye contact, speaks deep and definitive butwithout bluster, aiming his words at the Pharmacist:GERRYYou do that?

17.METHYou something to her?GERRYI’d ask the same if it was you onthe ground.METHHer stupid ass was acting like theworld wasn’t ending.Another pause.then Gerry nods down at Rachel:Albuterol.GERRYMeth hesitates, turns, moves expertly through the shelves.METHThey outgrow the asthma.Scans, hones in, grabs a handful of inhalers, steps and dumpsthem into Gerry’s cart for him.METH (CONT’D)This shit too. Magic for my boy.Sweeps an armful of Children’s Motrin into the cart. BeforeGerry can verbalize thanks, he hears a cry. Parental 6thsense picks it up through looting din. Spins: Connie inKarin’s cart, rolling past the end of an aisle, screamingback at something. No Karin. Cart smacks a display case.Gerry lays Rachel back in his cart, sprints.GERRYBABY?! KARIN?!.grabs the cart with Connie. Running with one cart infront, the other behind, peering down aisles. Panicked.Almost no light left inside the store.INT. AUTOMOTIVE SUPPLIES - NEXT MOMENTKarin on the ground, attacked by the two men. Short Sleeveskeeps his hand over her mouth. People step around them. AnOLD MAN trips over them, see’s what they’re doing, sneers:OLD MANSONS-A-BITCHES!But doesn’t stop. Hustles past Gerry who just rounded thecorner. His face a death mask now, rifle to shoulder.

18.Both attackers see Gerry at once - Apron shoves Short Sleevestoward Gerry just as Gerry fires - Gerry flinches with thenoise, the recoil, the sheer surreal surprise of where he isand what he’s doing. Short Sleeve’s shoulder vanishes. Dropsinstantly. Howling. People everywhere scream/drop/run.Apron fires a .38 at Gerry as he scrambles backward on hisknees.8 feet away. Two shots rip holes in the air inchesfrom Gerry’s ear, before Gerry remembers to work the bolt,chamber another round, fire again.Gerry’s 2nd shot detonates a freezer at the end of the aisle.People drop to bellies now. Apron fires 2 more shots. Soclose to Gerry and his girls we cringe. Gerry gets the hangof the bolt action, fires a third time, misses again: twoterrified rookies. But the big, errant rifle round detonatesbottles of anti-freeze just to the side of Apron’s head,spraying his face/eyes with caustic chemical.Gerry works the bolt a fourth time, blinks, then fires againdespite the fact Apron is pawing at his eyes and screaming:APRONSTOP-I QUIT-I’M SORRY-bullet hits Apron low in his chest, exits, hits the samefreezer. The force drags Apron back 2 feet. Gerry staresanother second.eyes wide, furious, exultant.Help.KARIN (O.C.)His wife standing beside him suddenly, soundless tearsstreaming down her cheeks, the rim of one eye already purpleblack from where these Motherfuckers punched her.Can’t button her fly because her hands tremble too much.Gerry kneels, doing his wife’s fly. Girls in shock. Karingrabs him before he c

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