Diary Of The Dead Page #2

in your water or your mailbox.

and that letter from

Publisher's Clearing House, huh?

The good news is you

won a million bucks,

bad news is you'll gonna

wake up dead tomorrow morning.

Better believe what

we've just heard,

the problem doesn't seem to be

that people are waking up dead.

But that dead people

are waking up.

Listen!

- What's that?

- What was that?

A lot of people

are in on it.

Right.

If I'm gonna wake up dead,

it's gonna be in my own bedroom.

You can all come.

Eliot has the address,

he knows where is it.

Yeah, nice place too.

Cozy, takes up about half of Philadelphia.

Yeah, it's a f***in' fortress.

I can't get in unless I'm invited.

Sorry Jason, you're

worried about your movie.

I don't mean to hang you

up or anything, but...

I'm gettin' the f*** out of here.

Like I said,

you can all come.

I mean it.

It's an invitation.

I'm in.

- Anyone else?

- Better be not.

Bye guys.

F***in' pommy gets all the girls.

So...

What are we going to do?

- How do you explain, that...

- I have no explanation.

OK, what I'm

going to do.

I'm going to the dorm,

Deb's there.

Whatever's happening,

I don't want her to be alone.

Transmit electrical

impulses

strong enough,

to animate what little

remains of the body's

muscle tissues.

OK.

OK, this is the women's dorm.

Jesus.

It's been 25 minutes

since we've heard the news,

and it looks like

everybody's gone.

Hello, who's

in there?

F***.

What the f*** are

you doing here?

- What the f*** you're doing here?

- I'm stealing sh*t.

What about you...?

What's a guy with a video

camera doing in the women's dorm?

Security!

F***.

Oh god.

Oh sh*t.

OK, OK, this is

Deb's room.

- Wait! It's OK. It's me.

- Jesus, f***..

Are you still

shooting?

- What're you shooting?

- I'm just...

Oh my god!

- God, I'm so afraid.

- It's OK, Deb.

I'm here.

I've been trying to call them,

for like an hour...

Sh*t!

Sh*t! Same f***in' thing,

no answer!

Gotta get out there,

we'll see everything.

- Babe!

- What?

There's no answer at my house.

My mom, my dad, Billie...

- They're supposed to be there!

- Maybe they're up at the cabin.

No, I already tried there.

Everything's out.

The circuits are busy, your folks probably

can't get through to you either.

It was all over the news,

all over the web.

But no one knew what

was really happening.

I wanna get out of here.

J!

I want to go home.

I think that's what

started the panic,

not knowing the truth.

What's been happening?

I don't know,

the prospects

truly are terrifying.

All my friends left before

we could even say goodbye.

It's funny. You spend some much

time resenting your parents,

separating yourself,

building your own life,

but when the sh*t hits the fan,

the only place you want to go is

home.

We're in Mary's

Winnebago,

trying to stick together.

- What is this about, Jason?

- I don't know, I just...

if this turns out to be a big thing,

I just want to record it, OK?

Come on everybody, when it

comes to you, say your names.

This is ridiculous.

- Mary. Mary Dexter.

- What are you doing here, Mary?

I'm going home...

trying to go home.

Can you just not film me

while I'm driving, please?...

so I can focus.

Say your name.

Jason, if you don't know

my name by now

then you can get your clothes

out of my closet, OK?

Come on, babe,

it's part of history.

Debra Moynahan.

And I'm trying to get home too, OK?

Like Mary.

And I'm wondering why my boyfriend

has a camera plastered to his face.

Scranton. OK?

Scranton. Pennsylvania.

That's my home.

It's my parent's home.

And my little brother's.

- Where are you coming from?

- College.

We're all at Pitt together.

University of Pittsburgh.

- Why are we on the road?

- Christ.

Yeah, Christ, Jason.

Lay the f*** off!

See this guy?

He won't say who he is, so I will.

He's Tony Ravello. He's from...

- Where is he from? Brooklyn or the Bronx?

- Queens.

He does makeup

that comes unglued.

You know what?

I'm a directing major, just like you.

- I wasn't supposed to do makeup.

- No, I was.

Sorry, babe.

You know what happens

when we try to work together.

I hear that.

Why are we here

on the road?

- Just trying to get out of Dodge right now.

- Why?

What do you want

me to say, Jason?

No, it's not what I want you want to say,

its what you want to say. Tell us...

Why does everyone wanna

get the hell out of Dodge?

Cause of this thing, this crazy

thing that's happenin'.

It is crazy.

- Where are you going, Tony?

- Nowhere. No place to go.

Except to hang with you, Jason,

until I can't take any more of your sh*t.

Hey, guys!

Can you explain why the department

of Homeland Security suddenly

raised its alert level to orange

earlier this evening

even though there are no

indications of a terrorist attack?

Your right, there's no

indication of any terrorism.

We believe these are

simply isolated and

unrelated phenomenon, and we expect

things to return to normal very soon.

See? They've already started

playing this sh*t down.

...maybe due to a

previous unknown viral strain

that leads, to a kind

of mass psychosis.

- Psychosis, who's going to believe that?

- Psychotic?

The President continues to monitor

the situation from his ranch and

he's asked the American

people to remain vigilant.

- Say who you are, Eliot.

- You just did, I'm Eliot.

Tell us more.

Eliot Stone, Harrisburgh PA.

I'm here with you fine people

because, I don't know

I'd like to get home, too.

It's on the way, I'm hoping you'll

be so kind as to drop me off.

Seems like everybody

wants to get home.

I know what you're trying

to do, Jason. I get it.

Gordo Thorsen.

Denver, Pennsylvania.

Tracy Thurman.

We're a...

together.

- Forever.

We'll see.

What's that?

Oh... this is

my camera.

Smile.

Thurman and Gordo.

Gimme a kiss.

Oh, I'm from San Antone,

that's Texas.

Don't mess with Texas.

Holy sh*t.

Look at this guy!

Christ!

He's gotta be doing like

a buck twenty.

Professor?

Ah-ha, you finally come to me,

I was beginning to feel rejected.

- It's just that...

- So far away, I know.

In storage...

sitting on a toilet seat

with everyone's dirty laundry.

Andrew Maxwell,

analyst.

Nowhere to go,

nothing to do.

and I'm not

with anybody.

Like Mr. Ravello, I'm just

popping along for the ride.

I'm not with

anyone either.

I'm... just...

here all alone...

just me and Saint Chris.

We'll probably be calling on ol' Saint Chris

before this night's over.

Oh my god!

Look!

We'll never get past that. Turn around.

We should go back to the dorms.

- Look!

- It's a cop.

- He's a State Trooper

- How do you know that?

- His hat is... because his hat.

- He looks hurt.

- He's all burned up.

- Not just burned, he's f***in' fried!

Oh my...

He's dead!

I'm telling you, he can't be

anything else but dead.

Oh my god!

I think he wants more than

your license and registration!

Go! Go!

Oh f***!

F***!

Wait, wait, wait!

What's that?

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