Breakdown Page #14

Jeff whips around. The older vacationing couple are

talking to a cop fifty yards away. The husband points

toward the pay phones.

Jeff makes a sudden decision, doubles back behind a

rolling farm truck.

COP:

thanks the couple, calls out something to his fellow

officers.

JEFF:

runs alongside the farm truck, using it as a shield. He

overtakes the truck, cuts across its path. The farmer

BLARES his HORN.

Jeff glances left. Red’s tractor trailer is traveling

across the crowded parking area, slowly gaining speed.

Jeff sprints in front of a moving car.

The driver jerks to a halt and HONKS, catching the

attention of a nearby cop. Jeff quickly turns away,

avoiding being seen.

Red’s 18-wheeler turns toward the access road. Jeff

looks around, panicked. More cops are spreading out on

foot. They’ll notice him any second.

(CONTINUED)

80.

CONTINUED:

Jeff crouches low and scurries underneath a slow-moving

postal truck. The truck speeds up, nearly crushing him

under the rear wheel assembly.

Jeff rolls out of the path of the giant wheels, gets to

his feet on the other side and finds himself...

... in the path of another huge truck!

A cop is standing only 20 feet away! Jeff goes

underneath another trailer, crawling between the moving

wheels. He springs to his feet.

Red’s Peterbilt is pulling away!

Jeff runs for all he’s worth. His arms and legs pump

furiously. He runs abreast of the truck...

... and seizes the spare tire mount!

EXT. INTERSTATE -UNDER TRUCK -DAY

Jeff hangs on for dear life. His legs drag over the

asphalt. He lets out a cry of pain.

The truck is joining the highway, accelerating.

Grimacing, Jeff swings his legs over the universal joint

as the roadway races past below. The huge TIRES are a

HOWLING blur.

Suddenly his grip falters on the grease. His back

scrapes the rushing asphalt. Jeff gasps, makes a grab

and holds firm.

As he hangs on, a station wagon overtakes the Peterbilt

in the passing lane. A three-year-old boy sits in the

rear compartment, staring out at Jeff, a puzzled

expression on his face.

Jeff stares back. It’s an odd moment between the two.

The station wagon continues forward and EXITS FRAME.

EXT. INTERSTATE -DAY

The PETERBILT THUNDERS over a patch of highway that is

being graded for paving.

81.

EXT. UNDER TRUCK -DAY

The tires kick up a hail storm of loose gravel and dirt,

pelting Jeff all over his body.

He realizes he can’t stay where he is. Grunting with

effort, he works his way hand over hand along the

underside rigging toward the cab.

He seizes the trailer hitch and hoists himself up.

EXT. BETWEEN CAB AND TRAILER -DAY

Standing on the coupler, Jeff clutches his ribs and

catches his breath. He’s in pain. The road whips by

below his feet.

The truck hits an uneven stretch of road and bounces

violently. Jeff grabs the coiled brake line for support.

The truck is doing 70 mph, exhaust racketing.

Jeff pulls the cell phone from his pocket and dials 911.

He holds it tightly to his ear, shouting above the wind.

JEFF:

(on phone)

Hello? Can you hear me? This is

Jeff Taylor. I need to talk to

the deputy.

He strains to hear the reply.

JEFF:

The name is Jeffrey Taylor. I

just witnessed your sheriff being

shot. Now put someone on,

goddammit!

He waits.

INT. TRUCK CAB -DAY

Red glances in the side mirror at the road behind him as

he drives, unaware of Jeff’s presence.

EXT. TRUCK COUPLER -DAY

Jeff clutches the cell phone to his ear, waiting. He

reacts suddenly as the call is put through.

JEFF:

Hello?

INTERCUT WITH:

82.

INT. POLICE STATION -DAY

Deputy Carver speaks on a phone extension while the

DISPATCHER sits nearby.

DEPUTY CARVER:

It’s no good. He’s not talking.

You better mobilize your boys.

The troopers stare back. They look like they have a

score to settle.

CUT TO:

EXT. RED’S PETERBILT -DAY

The truck streaks along the interstate. Sitting on the

coupler, Jeff is a picture of despair.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. RED’S PETERBILT -DUSK

Hours later.

The truck races toward the bloated lowering sun, with no

sign of slowing down. Jeff lies curled under the

windfoil on the roof of the cab. He hugs himself,

shivering in the cold draft.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. RED’S PETERBILT -NIGHT

The TRACTOR TRAILER RUMBLES in low gear along a sparsely

populated two-lane road. A neighborhood DOG YAPS.

EXT. ROOF OF TRUCK CAB -NIGHT

From his hiding place under the windfoil, Jeff peers out

into the darkness, unable to figure out where he is.

He catches his balance as the truck turns a corner and

slows, driving past a tract of undeveloped land, before

turning into the driveway of a...

EXT. RESIDENTIAL LOT -NIGHT

and braking to a halt under the broad overhanging eave of

an old dilapidated barn.

(CONTINUED)

83.

CONTINUED:

Behind the two-story farm house, a rusted Volkswagen bus

and satellite dish hunker in the weeds. A newer car, a

1981 Cadillac Deville, is parked to the side.

Red kills the engine and climbs out of the cab. As he

walks toward the house, a screen DOOR SLAPS. DEKE, 9,

squirts across the lawn in his pajamas.

DEKE:

Daddy, you’re home!

Red scoops him up.

RED:

Hey, Deke, you miss me?

ARLEEN, 35, comes out of the house in a bathrobe.

ARLEEN:

Deke, get back to bed! I said

now!

(to Red)

Warren? I thought you were coming

back next week.

She comes out into the yard.

EXT. TRUCK CAB -NIGHT

Jeff flattens against the sleeper. He can see Red

greeting his wife, their words carrying faintly across

the lawn. Jeff is baffled by this domestic scene.

EXT. YARD -NIGHT

Arleen reacts with disappointment to something Red’s told

her.

ARLEEN:

... but it’s four in the morning.

Why can’t Al and Billy come some

other time?

RED:

(reasoning)

I told you, we’ve got some stuff

to take care of. Won’t be more

than a couple of hours --I

promise.

Red turns to his son, extends a key.

(CONTINUED)

84.

CONTINUED:

RED:

Say, Deke, how ’bout opening up

the barn for your daddy?

Deke takes the key and sprints for the barn while Red

returns to the cab, passing within several feet of Jeff’s

hiding place.

He reaches into the cab, brings out a duffel bag and

unzips it. Jeff keeps his breathing shallow, squeezes

against the windfoil.

RED:

Deke, c’mon over here, I got

something for you.

Deke runs up, breathless. Red holds two hands behind his

back. Red and Deke are just six feet from Jeff.

RED:

Guess which hand.

DEKE:

(pointing to

right hand)

This one.

Red opens his right hand. Empty.

RED:

Nope. Try again.

DEKE:

(pointing to left)

This hand.

Red opens his left. Empty.

RED:

Nope.

DEKE:

(he’s been

tricked)

Dad...

RED:

(laughing)

Okay, okay, I’ll give it to you.

He opens his hand, revealing Jeff’s Swiss Army knife.

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