Bird Box Page #8

The Cadillac looks like a makeshift meth lab.

Every window is blacked out with cardboard, tape, and linen.

Lucy checks it out more closely.

LUCY:

It’s like a car for vampires.

(grins at Tom)

Cool.

45.

Tom opens the driver’s door, climbs in, and starts the

engine. The Cadillac thrums to life.

The interior glows from the light of the electronics.

INT. CADILLAC - LATER

Still idling in the garage, driver door ajar.

Tom sits at the wheel. Malorie sits shotgun. In back: Lucy

and Felix. Lucy carries a golf club with her, and Felix has

armed himself with a hand-axe.

Greg hands Tom a sticky note from outside Tom’s door.

GREG:

I made a list, going by your math.

Get as much as you can.

TOM:

Will do.

GREG:

The store address is eleven oh one

Longview Street.

TOM:

Already in the system. Now get

inside, and I’ll raise the door.

GREG:

Okay. I... Good luck.

Tom nods and shuts the car door. The interior feels more like

a submarine, lit by the dome light.

Malorie pulls out a slip of paper. Considers it.

MALORIE:

Tom...

TOM:

What do you have there?

She holds it out for him.

MALORIE:

This is where my parents live. I

was going to check on them-

TOM:

Malorie-

46.

MALORIE:

--and I just, I haven’t heard from

them and I know it’s out of the way

but I just need to know. I’m sorry-

TOM:

Hey, hey.

He takes her hand with the note and closes her fingers over

it. Tom isn’t taking the address. He’s having her keep it.

But he’s being tender with her about it.

TOM (CONT’D)

I get it. I do. We all want to know

about someone. But we have to get

used to not knowing. Or else we

won’t make it. Okay?

Malorie takes a ragged breath and nods.

Tom reaches up and presses a button on a remote. Click!

The group listens to the sound of the garage door opening.

Tom touches the navigation screen.

FEMALE GPS VOICE (V.O.)

Calculating route.

A map appears, with a thick red line forming an L-shape along

the streets.

Tom puts the car in reverse.

EXT. STREET - DAY

The rear bumper advances at us, reverse lights aglow.

INT. GREG’S HOUSE - DAY

Cheryl begins searching in drawers by the entertainment

center, tidying up as she goes.

OLYMPIA:

So, are all of you, like, friends

and family?

CHERYL:

We didn’t know each other before

last week.

OLYMPIA:

That must be weird.

47.

Cheryl chortles and nods like, “You have no idea.”

Greg notices her peeking in drawers.

GREG:

What are you looking for?

CHERYL:

This.

She holds up a PHONE BOOK. Stonebridge is small enough it’s a

combo white pages/yellow pages.

DONALD:

What, as kindling?

CHERYL:

You all laughed at me about

delivery, but I bet I can find

someone who will, mm-hmm.

GREG:

(to Olympia)

Olympia, was it? What is it like

out there? Were you attacked?

OLYMPIA:

No.

GREG:

Do you know what those things are?

OLYMPIA:

Just that when you see one, you go

crazy. So, they’re bad.

GREG:

But is it just seeing one face-toface?

What about through a camera?

Or video footage? How big are they?

Why are they out there?

OLYMPIA:

I was hoping you guys had some

information.

DONALD:

Just the radio. Local DJ. The big

stations dropped three days ago.

GREG:

I have an idea.

48.

INT. UPSTAIRS BEDROOM - MOMENTS LATER

The bed in this room tells a tale.

One half is turned down sloppily. The other half is a shrine.

Pillows under the covers suggest a body. Atop the bedspread,

Lydia’s nightgown has been draped. And on a pillow at the

head rests a framed PHOTO of Lydia.

Greg stands at a small TV on a dresser. Holding a remote.

Donald, Cheryl, and Olympia are gathered at the door.

GREG:

Home security system. Two cameras,

in front and back. It’s wired

through this TV. The image is

thermographic, so it can pick up

heat signatures at night.

DONALD:

Greg, hang on.

GREG:

The system stores the last twenty-

four hours of footage. This is a

digitized signal, showing just the

temperatures of objects. It’s

neutered information. Colors on a

flat screen. Harmless.

DONALD:

We don’t know that.

Greg takes a breath.

GREG:

Lydia saw one. She must have. It

killed her. So, if I can track them

like this, just looking at a few

thousand pixels of light, then...

DONALD:

Then what?

GREG:

I’m getting some thermographic

goggles, and a gun, and I’m going

to kill every last one of them.

Donald steps back a bit. Watches Greg. Cheryl speaks up:

CHERYL:

Or maybe we let the army do that.

49.

GREG:

That’s what Tom said. He said it

wasn’t worth the risk. Are we doing

just what Tom says now?

Beat. Donald pricks at this. Greg looks at Donald as if

expecting it to.

DONALD:

Tom doesn’t get to make that call.

You do. Here is what we should do.

MOMENTS LATER:

Greg is tied to a chair with extension cord. Donald tugs at

the ones around Greg’s torso. Tightening.

GREG:

Double knots on the back?

DONALD:

Yeah. You sure this is the

sturdiest chair in the house?

Greg’s arms are strapped to the chair’s arms. But he has

control of the remote.

GREG:

Yes. Loosen the wrist a bit so I

can use the clicker.

DONALD:

Okay. Remember you can just turn

off the TV, at any time.

GREG:

I’ll call for you when I’m done.

DONALD:

We’ll be nearby. Okay?

Donald pats Greg on the shoulder and leaves the room.

Greg stares at the TV screen.

It shows bluish coverage of the front and back of the house.

In the upper corner, a label: “REPLAY MODE.”

The screen flickers.

INT. CADILLAC - DAY

The GPS screen flickers, points Tom straight ahead.

50.

Tom drives. Malorie watches the map closely. The arrow.

The map goes away, replaced with a diagram of the car, alerts

flashing at the front right bumper.

MALORIE:

What’s that?

TOM:

Proximity sensor.

Tom steers around it.

FELIX:

Probably a parked car. Yeah. Gonna

be cars up and down.

The Cadillac’s left tires brush against something. Curb.

Tom corrects again. Keeps driving.

FEMALE GPS VOICE (V.O.)

In, half a mile, turn right.

The proximity sensor warns: front bumper.

Tom tries to steer around it, but not fast enough.

The front end rises half a foot, then drops again, running

over the obstacle.

The back end follows.

Malorie gives Tom a look. Tom glances her way.

TOM:

Don’t think about it.

From the back seat:

FELIX:

What was that? A speed bump?

Malorie and Tom don’t say what they’re thinking it was.

Outside, through the windows, the group can hear the static

hiss of a hydrant leak as they drive past it.

Water pocks the hood, roof, and right side.

Tom keeps going, white-knuckled.

FEMALE GPS VOICE (V.O.)

Turn right, here.

51.

The map points the way.

Tom turns slowly.

The proximity sensor beeps: Left front corner.

Tom adjusts. Goes again.

Beep. Right front corner.

Tom steers. Backs up. Looks for another route.

Beep. Rear bumper.

Tom puts it in park.

TOM:

There’s something, I don’t know,

probably a truck...

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