Bird Box Page #11

Blindfolded, Malorie opens a can of cold pork-and-beans.

Jabs a plastic utensil in the can.

She scoops out a spoonful.

Holds her hand out.

MALORIE:

Scoop.

Girl reaches out her hand.

Finds Malorie’s wrist.

Guides the spoon to her mouth.

Girl taps Malorie’s wrist gently.

And Malorie knows to refill the spoon.

Right now, no one rows.

Malorie feeds Boy next.

MALORIE (CONT’D)

Boy. Scoop.

Wrapped in blankets, he reaches out, guides the spoon.

Takes a bite.

Taps her wrist.

She pulls it away.

BOY:

My hands and feet feel like, like

needles. Poking. All the time.

MALORIE:

Remember your job. Listen. With

both ears.

(beat)

Girl. Scoop.

Girl takes a bite. Chews.

BOY:

Malorie...

64.

MALORIE:

Yes, Boy.

BOY:

Why did God give us eyes?

MALORIE:

To look.

BOY:

But, we can’t really look. You

taught us to wake up with them

closed. Why give us eyes at all?

Beat.

MALORIE:

To give us hope.

Boy ponders this answer.

INT. GREG’S HOUSE - FIVE YEARS EARLIER - NIGHT

Pressing in on the back door, set into a “mud room” off the

kitchen, with a place for boots, heavy coats, etc.

Malorie (long-haired, seven-months pregnant now) enters from

outside, carrying a paint bucket filled with water. She’s

also wearing a blindfold. Her breath plumes in the night air.

Just as she shuts the door behind her, we catch a glimpse of

the setup:
The back door has a tarpaulin hood covering view

of the outside, attached to a small awning, so it creates a

little cocoon just outside the door.

Malorie sets the pail down, takes off her blindfold, and

reaches over to one wall...

...where a large WHITEBOARD hangs with a set of instructions:

WATER WELL SCHEDULE

35 steps from back porch

follow the chain (left of door)

handle cranks AWAY = up, TOWARD = down

everyone participates!

Below is a list of names with check marks by their names to

indicate the number of water trips they’ve taken.

Malorie puts a check mark by her name.

65.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Water pours down a funnel from the pail into a plastic jug.

Malorie then gets a glass for herself.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Malorie sits on the couch, drinking the water.

Her attention drifts to the coffee table, where the landline

phone sits alongside the Stonebridge phone book.

She scoots the book toward her, flips through the pages.

And then picks up the receiver. Holds it to her ear.

Remarkably, there is still a dial tone. (This is probable but

only with old landline telephony.)

Malorie flips to the yellow pages section and finds a listing

for the hospitals.

She starts dialing.

Behind her, over her shoulder, the open kitchen area. And,

farther still, the back door in the mud room. That area is

unlit now, but the white of the back door stands out.

And the door starts to open.

Malorie doesn’t hear. She’s busy trying numbers.

PRESSING IN on Malorie as she dials and listens for a working

number on the other end, edging out the view of the door and

the kitchen as something gets closer...

Then that sound.

That otherworldly, inhuman noise.

Malorie’s whole body goes rigid with sudden fear.

She snaps her eyes closed and leans down into the couch to

try and hide.

Her shallow breath is overtaken by the sound of rasping.

Close on her face, eyes firmly shut, and then-Two

ragged FINGERS with wet, black talons on the ends reach

in and press against her cheek and eyebrow. Malorie whimpers

in shock, tries to turn away from the contact, but then-

66.

The fingers spread, pulling her eyelid open, forcing her to

look directly at the thing-

Her pupil contracts in terror-

And for a singular frame we see: A wide-mouthed, pale, wet

FACE with bulging eyes like a deep-sea monster, then-

INT. MALORIE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Malorie wakes up from the nightmare, breathless.

Her hair is damp with sweat.

It takes her a moment to calm down.

Olympia snores softly in the neighboring bed.

Malorie reaches for a glass on her nightstand. It’s empty.

INT. FOYER

Malorie descends the stairs with her empty glass, headed for

the kitchen. She passes the front door...

A moment later, there’s a VOICE from outside.

STRANGER (O.S.)

Anyone? Hello?

Malorie freezes. Tense. Waits it out.

A pause. Silence.

Malorie turns, shaking her head, then:

STRANGER (O.S.) (CONT’D)

Help, is there anyone?

Malorie goes to the door and calls out:

MALORIE:

Someone there?

STRANGER (O.S.)

Oh god, oh thank god.

The sound of boots on the wood planks of the front entry.

Fumbling sounds of the blanket insulating the front door.

MALORIE:

Who is it?

67.

His voice rises at the end of his sentences, so sometimes

they sound like questions.

STRANGER (O.S.)

My name is Gary? I’m, I got lost

scavenging for food and, hello? Is

this the front door?

MALORIE:

It’s the middle of the night.

GARY (O.S.)

Is it? Sh*t, it’s been hours...

Malorie looks upstairs for help. No one else is awake. She

hesitates. Then remembers the budgies.

They slumber in their cage, a few paces away. Unfazed.

Malorie double-checks by picking up the box and holding it

close to the door. She whispers to them:

MALORIE:

(to budgies)

Is it safe out there?

GARY (O.S.)

Please. It’s cold. Can I come in?

MALORIE:

There’s a protocol. I can’t let you

inside right now. You have to wait.

GARY (O.S.)

I fell and I’m bleeding. I can’t

see how bad it is? I don’t want to

bleed to death, please...

Malorie sets the box of budgies down and debates with

herself. They didn’t consider someone with an injury when

they made the rules.

She closes her eyes, then opens the door.

GARY (late 30s) steps in. Tall, wearing a flannel jacket.

Could be a truck driver. Also blindfolded.

GARY (CONT’D)

I’m in.

He helps her shut the door. Then he takes off his blindfold.

His arm is badly cut, matting his flannel jacket. He notices

it and sets down his backpack, to ease out of his coat.

68.

GARY (CONT’D)

Okay, so yeah, I’m gonna take this

off. And then maybe you have some

gauze or a towel or something?

Malorie hurries to the powder room and returns with a thin

hand-towel.

MALORIE:

I’m Malorie.

Gary takes the towel and wraps his wound. The cut is long but

not deep; superficial.

GARY:

Pleasure. Thanks.

(notices)

Wow, you’re about ready to pop.

MALORIE:

Where have you been staying?

GARY:

Over on Lincoln? Like maybe quarter

mile that way? No, this way.

MALORIE:

Alone this whole time?

GARY:

No. What about you? Are you alone?

He looks back at her. The question is unsettling.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Everyone’s awake now, sitting around the room: Malorie and

Olympia, Lucy, Tom, Don, Cheryl, and Gary. Gary holds court.

GARY:

My brother has always been that

guy. You know the one? With the

disaster “go bag” and the ammo

reloader for his AR-15? He was

always sort of an a**hole, but I

knew I’d be safer with him than

anywhere else. By the time I got

there he had six other guys all

staying with him, hunting buddies.

Eddie-- my brother-- he had

blankets on the windows, but they

were ready to arm up, go out and

bag them a monster.

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