The Survivalist Page #18

Milja remains perfectly still, except for her welling

gaze...

KATHRYN (cont'd)

Get up.

Kathryn clamps a hand on Milja's arm and begins to pull her

when-

Survivalist wakes and sits up. He's drowsy but quickly

cogent.

SURVIVALIST:

... What's going on?

She hesitates. Something deep within her ajar...

KATHRYN:

We were just...

She holds her stomach. A wave of nausea. The water in

Milja's eyes runs down the side of her face.

Kathryn shakes her head.

KATHRYN (cont'd)

You didn't.

Survivalist sees the bag lying on the ground by the stove.

KATHRYN (cont'd)

You couldn't-

She runs to the doorway and leans outside - her fingers

rush into throat and throw up vomit.

Survivalist races out of bed and rushes to her side. She

gets her breath back.

SURVIVALIST:

What did she give you?

KATHRYN:

Too late.

SURVIVALIST:

Tell me.

KATHRYN:

Mushrooms.

Kathryn tries to retch again.

SURVIVALIST:

When?

KATHRYN:

Supper. When else?

He looks at the bag, again, then at Milja.

Puts it together.

Kathryn sits down on the porch, clutching her stomach and

rocking gently.

Survivalist sweeps to the book shelf and pulls a reference

book.

SURVIVALIST:

There's a remedy.

KATHRYN:

A hospital. With a power supply. And

staff.

She speaks with a gallows, drowsy lucidity.

SURVIVALIST:

Milk of thistle.

He lowers a page entry to Kathryn's view and shows the

picture, description.

SURVIVALIST (cont'd)

But none in this forest. Not that

I've seen...

Survivalist spreads an old National Trust map across the

table. Kathryn pores over it with him; pencilled

annotations and markings.

Milja steps into the seed room and shuts the door behind

her - a brief, perhaps final look between her and her

mother.

SURVIVALIST (cont'd)

These parts I know, back of my hand.

I've never seen it.

He indicates most of the map within a half-day's walking

distance. Then he indicates other areas - near flatland,

forest's edge.

SURVIVALIST (cont'd)

These places... there's at least a

chance.

EXT. FOREST - DAY

Survivalist leads Kathryn through the woods. They coil wind-

up dynamo torches to illuminate the dark forest floor.

EXT. HIGHER GROUND, CLEARING - DAY

Survivalist orients himself with a map and compass.

A sound - he turns to find Kathryn retching again, almost

doubled over in pain. He goes to her side and holds her up.

She waves him away; keep going.

EXT. FOREST'S EDGE - DAY

Trudging through dry forest mud. Both prematurely tired

because of starvation rations.

Kathryn takes slow, zombiefied glances at the ground.

EXT. FOREST'S EDGE - DAY (LATER)

Kathryn is slower now, her skin taking on a ghastly

lividity all over. Her head twitches towards each dark nook

of the forest.

Survivalist is feverishly scanning the ground.

She wheezes - takes a hard, stuttering cough. She pulls her

fist away from her mouth and finds it flecked with blood.

He locks an arm around hers. Pulls her back into motion.

FADE TO:

A slanted forest-line, overlooking a valley. They've

stopped sweeping through the forest and inspect the area

separately.

Survivalist stoops as a lush patch.

Then he hears Kathryn's voice.

KATHRYN (OFF)

Over here.

He finds her crouched on an outlook. He looks at what's in

front of her, to her feet. She shakes her head - not there.

There.

He looks out to the horizon.

Reacts.

We do not see what they see.

KATHRYN:

When was the last time you were

here?

SURVIVALIST:

This far from the farm... four, five

years.

KATHRYN:

World's beginning to put itself

together again.

SURVIVALIST:

(...)

Do you think they have it?

KATHRYN:

Milk of thistle?

(shakes)

No. We're too far south. Don't think

there's any in this forest.

He stares at her.

KATHRYN (cont'd)

But there is something I would have

expected them to have, which they

don't.

He looks back into the distance. Methodically studying the

details.

SURVIVALIST:

Bean poles.

She nods gently.

KATHRYN:

I'm like The Red Queen in Alice.

Always running as fast as she can

just to stay on the board.

With effort, she gets onto her feet again.

EXT. FOREST - DAY

The light is dying now. They walk into an ancient part of

the forest - old tall trees, long-fallen trunks, dark wood

and deadness.

Kathryn stops and rests against a tree, exhausted and

racked with pain.

KATHRYN:

Worse and worse... how much more...

Her breath is a rasp.

SURVIVALIST:

Much, much more.

She looks at him.

Her hand feels a breast, a breast pocket. She reaches

inside and gives him something in the palm of his hand.

KATHRYN:

This how you know?

He opens his hand: the diamond ring.

He looks at her, long and hard. Her eyes hold on him; no

real fear, just curiosity, beneath everything else.

SURVIVALIST:

Our son was starving.

KATHRYN:

I saw his bones.

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