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No One Lives by David Coenб September 11, 2009

Безжалостные преступники спрятали в заброшенном доме двух заложников, юношу и девушку. Однако через некоторое время головорезы находят заложницу мертвой и неожиданно понимают, что юноша не так прост, как казался на первый взгляд. И теперь это он на них охотится.

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FADE IN:

EXT. MEADOW - NIGHT

Moonlight drips off dewy weeds like diamonds.

Heavy BREATHING suggests climax.

CLOSE ON - a girl’s lips, wet with exhaustion. Hair in her

eyes, sticking to her forehead. She wipes strands away with

cracked, bloody nails.

Blood smears her rouged cheeks. Moonlight reflects in her

eyes. Blinks. Enough time has passed. She flips over...

She’s 18, with a natural beauty punctuated by fierce

determination. The look in her eyes is not yet that of fear,

but rather, hatred.

She focuses on the perimeter of the field where -

The foot tall grass meets a wall of dense forest. Nothing

alive in there. Nothing moving.

She holds steady. Staring. Counts in nervous rasps...

GIRL

One, two, three, four, five, six,

seven, eight, nine, ten.

No movement. Nothing.

GIRL

Come on, bitch. You can do it.

She can’t move. Frozen in place, when -

A FIGURE, a man, steps out of the forest into the meadow’s

edge. We can’t see his face, but she knows...

He’s staring right at her.

She drops into the grass. Eyes flitting at the massive open

night sky above her. Too many stars. No focus. Fuck. Fuck.

Fuck. She RUNS.

Wearing only panties and a guinea T, she bolts on strong

legs. The dew causing the dirt to smear along her thighs like

so much mascara. She runs for the far edge of the meadow

where the great lawn meets an intimidating thick of trees.

As she closes in on the forest...

The Man STEPS from the woods, into the meadow. The very grass

seems to wither under his weight. Faceless, cloaked in

shadow, he breaks into a steady run.

The Girl hits the woods in a full panicked run.

EXT. WOODS - SAME

Bramble and twigs meet her exposed flesh and tear at her. She

ignores the pain. Runs on bare feet over decades of

desiccated foliage. The sloughing of nature.

Trees seem to grope for her. Out the corner of her eye she

sees a SILVER BOX.

A WIRE glitters.

She jumps the wire. Runs on.

Slides down a ravine, kicking away sharp branches, reaching

the bottom. She looks UP...

The Figure approaches the edge.

GIRL

FUCK YOU!!!

He begins to slide down the ravine. She runs.

Beelines straight through a wall of bramble.

EXT. CREEK - NIGHT

Moonlight ripples through the overhang of leaves onto a slow

creek. She doesn’t slow down and splashes through four inches

of water.

ON HER BARE FEET - slicing through the creek...and then into

the water, over the creek bed that’s lined with BROKEN GLASS.

She runs, missing the shards of glass and then CATCHES ONE.

GLASS TEARS INTO THE SIDE OF HER FOOT.

The Girl holds her hand to her mouth to stop from screaming.

She stops in the middle of the creek and looks around...

BROKEN SHARDS OF GLASS surround her. Tears explode.

Hyperventilating, she eases her way to the other side of the

creek.

2.

Inspects her foot. Rips out a three inch piece of GLASS.

Takes off her T-shirt and ties it around the gash. Ties it

tight. Runs, holding the glass tight in her hand.

She runs through the woods.

EXT. CREEK - NIGHT

The FIGURE splashes through the creek. Glass means nothing to

his heavy boots.

He reaches the far side. The woods echo silence. He bends

down and dips his fingers in a PUDDLE OF BLOOD. Catches the

MOON GLITTER WHITE off a second shimmering puddle.

EXT. WOODS - NIGHT

The Girl can HEAR THE ROAD ahead.

Through the trees she can see cars. The roar of eighteen

wheelers. She pounds over the terrain, running for the road,

but before she can react to the -

SILVER BOX

She trips a wire and...

THREE THICK NYLON CABLES triangulate and catch her at the

knees. She’s hauled off her feet, SMACKING HER HEAD ON THE

GROUND and then pulled up...

...and off the ground. Swinging. Blood from her head

dripping, peppering the forest floor with an all too real

fate.

She REACHES OUT. GRABS hold of a nearby Alder tree on her

pendulous arc. Holds herself there and uses the shard of

glass in her hand to CARVE...

EXT. WOODS - SAME

The Figure stops dead. He directs his attention toward the

East.

Slowly, methodically he breaks off a HEAVY BRANCH and heads

toward the sound of the road.

3.

EXT. WOODS - NIGHT

The Girl painstakingly carves her message into the tree, the

glass cutting into her palm. Blood peppering the forest

floor. She finishes and we read her handiwork...

EMMA WARD IS ALIVE

EMMA lets go of the tree. Swings.

EXT. WOODS - NIGHT

From the depths of the woods, the Figure draws closer.

EXT. WOODS - SAME

Emma’s POV - The FIGURE enters her periphery.

EMMA

Oh, please, no...

Emma holds the SHARD OF GLASS in her hand like a knife. As if

it will help.

He approaches, swinging the HEAVY BRANCH at his side, Emma

stabs futilely at the space between them.

EMMA

Stay away. Stay away. Please...

He takes a running start and swings the branch at her head -

ALL GOES BLACK.

EXT. HIGHWAY - DAY

Washington State Route 90. The road itself cuts a swath

through a dense sea of forest.

A BLACK 7 SERIES BMW pulling a small U-Haul trailer blazes

east.

We stay on the car as it travels from the semi-populated,

what could be said, suburban part of the state to the sparse,

off the grid, no man’s land...

INT. BMW - DAY

A dark beauty, in a pretty flowered dress, stares out the

passenger window at the blur of trees.

4.

In her late 20’s, BETTY flirts with melancholia. She’s lost

something in her life, but knows that happiness is within her

grasp.

BETTY

I don’t know, it’s just not going

to be the same.

The DRIVER, 38, handsome with piercing eyes, an inner

strength to match his muscular prowess, smiles at her.

DRIVER

Trust me. It’ll be the same.

BETTY

I’m going to miss everyone.

Driver ruminates on that one. He’ll miss them as well.

DRIVER

It’s life, Betty. Sometimes it’s

necessary to relocate.

BETTY

Don’t make it seem like it’s not

your fault.

DRIVER

Out of every bad situation comes

something good. Don’t you agree?

BETTY

You have a truly demented way of

looking at things.

DRIVER

And if I didn’t, I don’t think

you’d be so in love with me.

BETTY

Don’t flatter yourself. Everything

gets warped in definition.

DRIVER

We’re splitting hairs here. You

know that, don’t you?

She continues to stare out the window. Silence. Driver can’t

handle the cold shoulder.

DRIVER

Hey, why don’t we do a little

sightseeing.

5.

(MORE)

I’m sure there’s something to look

at besides all these trees, right?

EXT. GLACIER NATIONAL PARK - DAY

Driver and Betty gaze out from an outcropping at...

ACRES OF BURNED FOREST.

BETTY

It’s beautiful.

DRIVER

Apparently sixteen firefighters

were killed during the blaze.

Eleven in a firestorm. Five from

smoke inhalation.

BETTY

Their ghosts are down there.

DRIVER

If you believe that sort of thing.

BETTY

Don’t you?

DRIVER

No. I don’t believe in ghosts.

BETTY

No. I don’t imagine you would.

Driver puts his arm around Betty. She lays her head on his

shoulder. Together they look at the blackened landscape like

lovers standing on the beach.

EXT. RURAL ROAD - DAY

The BMW navigates the winding road. Up ahead is a small

motel, The Highwayman, with a vacancy sign.

Adjacent to the motel, a rotary is under construction.

INT. MOTEL - OFFICE - DAY

The BELL over the door rings when it opens. Driver enters.

The owner of the motel, HARRIS, 50, enters from the back

room.

6.

DRIVER (CONT'D)

HARRIS

Please don’t say you’re here for

directions. I’ve got fifteen rooms,

all with your name on it.

DRIVER

The good news is I know exactly

where I’m going. The bad news is I

only need one room.

HARRIS

I’ll take what I can get.

Harris clicks the computer off of sleep. Sits in front of it.

HARRIS

Let me ask you. What would you do

if the county tells you they’re

going to tear up half your property

to build a goddamn rotary? No one

asks. They just tell.

DRIVER

I don’t know. I guess I’d make

someone pay.

HARRIS

Damn straight. Stinking

bureaucrats.

(beat)

I just need a credit card.

As Driver goes for his wallet.

HARRIS

You solo? Not that it matters. All

the rooms have two queens.

DRIVER

Travelling with my girlfriend.

HARRIS

Is it serious?

DRIVER

Serious as a heart attack.

HARRIS

That’s what I like to hear.

Harris looks over Driver’s shoulder. Spots Betty in the car.

HARRIS

Pretty. Young.

7.

DRIVER

Exactly the way I like them.

Driver hands over his credit card.

HARRIS

Good for you. Good for you. Me? I

been married to the same woman for

thirty two years. Since we were

eighteen. The only part of her that

works the same is her mouth.

DRIVER

Well, that might not be such a bad

thing.

Beat.

HARRIS

Ha. I just got that. That’s funny.

(beat)

But not what I meant,

unfortunately.

Harris looks at the card.

HARRIS

What an unusual name.

DRIVER

My father had an unforgiving

commitment to historical reference.

HARRIS

Well, let’s get you set up here,

huh? How’s the number eight sound

to you?

DRIVER

Infinity. I like it.

INT. MOTEL - ROOM 8 - DAY

It’s the top of the hour. Driver lays on the bed watching the

news.

Betty comes out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower. She’s

wrapped up in a towel. Her damp hair only makes her sexier.

Driver holds up his hand.

DRIVER

Here it is again.

8.

ON THE NEWS - Forensic teams are searching a wooded area.

Lots of police tape.

NEWSCASTER (V.O.)

Local law enforcement and the

F.B.I. are scouring the area north

of Spokane for any evidence that

can lead them to missing heiress

Emma Ward.

A local SHERIFF talks to the media.

CLOSE UP SHOT OF - the carving that reads EMMA WARD IS ALIVE.

SHERIFF

(on TV)

From what we can tell, the carving

is about six months old. It’s

impossible to get an accurate date,

but tree growth on that particular

Alder indicates about half a year.

Probably done in the spring right

around, well, after her abduction.

Driver turns down the TV. Betty looks at him.

BETTY

You think they’ll ever find her?

DRIVER

Doubtful.

BETTY

Doubtful suggests there’s a chance.

DRIVER

There’s always a chance. But you

know how these things turn out.

Driver gets off the bed. Turns the TV off. He stands in front

of Betty. She smiles at him.

DRIVER

Take off the towel.

Betty undoes the towel. It drops to the floor, leaving her

naked, vulnerable. He drops to his knees. Buries his face

into her belly. His fingers caressing a TWO INCH SCAR THAT

CREASES HER PELVIS.

DRIVER

I’m sorry. I’m sorry about

everything.

9.

BETTY

The man who lacks emotion is sorry?

I don’t believe it.

DRIVER

I don’t lack emotion, I just

process it differently.

BETTY

Must everything about you be

different? I’d like normal, just

for this...

(she motions “between the

two of them)

...a little normal.

DRIVER

I would change it if I could, but I

can’t. I just can’t.

BETTY

What doesn’t kill us makes us

stranger.

(beat)

Just tell me you don’t love her

more than me.

Betty shuts her eyes. Waiting for his answer.

DRIVER

I don’t.

BETTY

But I need to hear it.

DRIVER

I don’t love her more than you. I

never did. It was just...different.

Betty pulls him up. Face to face. She begins to unbutton his

shirt. His pants.

Clothes fall to the carpet.

Their naked bodies meet on the bed. Writhing flesh. A

symphony of forgiveness met with explosive love making.

EXT. HOUSE - ESTABLISHING - DAY

Two MOTORCYCLES, a DODGE PICK-UP and a WHITE WORK VAN are

parked outside this quaint, off the road, vacation home.

10.

As we get closer to the house we can HEAR the dull thump of

BASS.

INT. HOUSE - DAY

The dull bass morphs into SCREAMING DEATH METAL as...

A YUPPIE DAD, 35ish, stumbles out of a bedroom, blood

streaming down his face from an open gash across his

forehead.

OFF CAMERA - A woman SCREAMS.

Yuppie Dad falls to his knees, furtive glance behind him,

reaches into his pocket and retrieves his cell phone.

Hands shaking he tries to dial a number.

CLOSE ON - The PHONE, fingers punching out...9...1...

BAM!!! Shotgun blast and the PHONE AND FOUR FINGERS

disintegrate in a spray of blood and cheap plastic.

Yuppie Dad stares where his fingers used to be. Sprays spit

as he begs the figure looming behind him...

ELLIOT HOAG, 38, hardened and unforgiving, pumps the gun

Terminator style.

Yuppie Dad crawl on his knees and elbows. Hoag follows

casually behind him.

Yuppie Dad reaches a door. Turns the knob with his good

hand...

INT. HOUSE - KID’S ROOM - DAY

Yuppie Dad crawls to the RACECAR BED in the middle of the

room. Leans up against it. His helpless plea’s lost under the

pounding music.

BAM...Hoag ends Yuppie Dad right there.

Hoag just stands there. Savoring the silence. And then from

the other room, another GUN SHOT.

Beat.

Hoag turns to face...