The Survivalist Page #21

...

No one comes through the seed room door.

Survivalist uses the coat to pick shards of glass out of

the windows.

When it's clear, he crouches and Milja steps into his lap.

He BOOSTS her up through the sill, and she eases herself

into:

INT. CABIN, SEED ROOM - DAY

As she lands on the ground, the door rattles - someone at

the handle.

She pulls her mother's machete and hands it out the window

to Survivalist. Then she takes the seed trays and empties

them into a rucksack.

The door begins to BANG. A boot is trying to kick it in.

Milja passes the rucksack through the window.

A SLAM against the seed room door. A sledgehammer being

swung against it.

Milja leans out the window... Survivalist takes her in his

arms. She slides against the bottom of the sill, a rogue

piece of glass slicing against her belly.

The LOCK smashes whole into the room.

The door is kicked open.

Sledge steps in. He sees the upturned seed shelf, the

broken window.

INT CUT EXT. CABIN, REAR & INT. CABIN SEED ROOM

Survivalist and Milja cower under the window. Milja presses

hands over stomach to stem the blood.

Sledge tears open shelves and knocks over seed trays,

scouring with irritable impatience.

Blood drips from the rogue glass shard onto the cabin

floor.

Survivalist, Milja both can barely breathe. Sledge's nasal

respiration feels like it's on the back of their necks.

But Sledge loses interest in the room and steps back into

the main cabin.

They hear him move away. Still hunkered down, Survivalist

straps the backpack onto Milja. They walk fast to the

forest.

Survivalist stops and PIVOTS the shotgun to the cabin

behind them.

Hobble stands at the corner. He is rabbit in headlights at

the two barrels of shotgun pointing at his chest.

Survivalist lifts his hand off the barrel and raises a

finger... KEEP QUIET. Then he steps sideways to keep

Hobble in blast range if he tries to bolt around the

corner. But Hobble is too slow-witted to move.

Survivalist steps towards him and waves the shotgun

downwards. Hobble gets on his knees, drops his knife.

Survivalist kicks it a few feet away.

If Survivalist fires, they're heard. He walks away, Hobble

will signal the alarm.

A stand-off.

Survivalist's eyes are drawn to the trees. He sees a FIGURE

in the darkness, but doesn't startle.

In a whisper...

SURVIVALIST:

Augustus.

Survivalist look at Milja.

SURVIVALIST (cont'd)

My name is Augustus.

MILJA:

(absent, repeating)

Augustus?

SURVIVALIST:

Always hated it.

He looks to the Figure again...

SURVIVALIST (cont'd)

You better get going.

MILJA:

What about you?

... we now see it is the GAUNT LADY.

SURVIVALIST:

I'll catch up.

Milja takes one last look at him.

THEN RUNS...

EXT. FOREST - DAY

Milja's feet are fast against the ground, legs snapping

dead wood and hands snapping branches from her face.

EXT. CABIN, REAR - DAY

Hobble stares at Survivalist with a grim forbearance. They

both know the way this is going to end.

Survivalist glances at Hobble's leg - still wrapped in a

makeshift support.

He smirks.

Voices the other side of the cabin. Missing one of their

number.

A WHISTLE sounds.

EXT. FOREST - DAY

Milja, running... she steps on a fallen tree, leaps forward

into the forest.

EXT. CABIN, REAR - DAY

An eerie silence.

Survivalist looks from side of the cabin to the other.

...

Sees a flicker of movement on the ground at one corner -

the shadow of man and rifle drawing closer.

He looks back at Hobble.

Pulls the trigger.

EXT. FOREST - DAY

A GUNSHOT echoes through the forest.

Birds take flight from the trees above.

Milja stops dead for a moment, panting, exhausted.

DISTANT GUNFIRE, rifle rounds.

She runs again.

FADE TO:

EXT. A FOREST STREAM - DAY

Clear water runs over rocks.

Milja's hands scoop up water. She brings her palms to her

belly wound, cleaning it out.

Inspects it:
the blood is beginning to congeal.

She becomes aware of the uneasy tranquility of the scene;

her alone in the water, light through the trees, sound of

birds.

She stands and picks up her belongings.

EXT. FOREST'S EDGE - DAY

Branches pull back to reveal:

THE DISTANT SETTLEMENT.

A wide encirclement of fencing, wire, tents and guard

posts. Take away the modern anachronisms, and it could pass

for a Bronze Age encampment.

Milja passes from the trees into the open fields and walks

towards the settlement.

....

TWO GUARDS stand to arms in their observation post and

raise rifles.

Milja walks towards them, her mother's machete raised

abreast, her free hand raised in welcome.

EXT. CABIN, FARM PLOT - DAY

Raiders build a pyre.

A raider strips Hobble's face-blasted body.

Another scrapes a long stick sharp at both ends.

Survivalist lies prostrate on the ground, barely alive, his

skin bloated and bloody. Raiders pull his boots and socks

off, then strip the rest.

Survivalist's eyes push beyond the shadows tearing at his

clothes... towards his outstretched hand.

He is clutching the diamond ring.

A boot STAMPS on his wrist.

A gloved hand PULLS the ring from his fingers.

The pyre is LIT.

EXT. THE SETTLEMENT - DAY

Milja waits under the FIRST GUARD, raised above her on the

observation post. Beyond the wire-mesh fence is a central

tent, where the rest of clan are in conference.

MILJA:

What's happening?

FIRST GUARD:

They're taking a vote. Shouldn't be

long.

He smiles awkwardly at her. There is a wary politeness

between them, both unsure whether she will be accepted.

He sees Milja's instinctive hand clasp.

FIRST GUARD (cont'd)

Are you pregnant?

Milja is unsure how to answer. The Guard smiles.

FIRST GUARD (cont'd)

Don't worry, we're Christians here.

He clutches the cross on his necklace, as proof.

FIRST GUARD (cont'd)

When are you expecting?

MILJA:

Six months, I think.

FIRST GUARD:

(repeating)

Six months.

(...)

Do you know what you'll call it?

She is looking to the horizon.

There is a small trail of smoke from a distant fire.

MILJA:

If it's a boy.

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