The Survivalist Page #6

Her hand drops to her bag.

He grabs her wrist. He lifts her hand out of the bag,

holding - a STRAIGHT RAZOR.

MILJA:

To shave you.

He squeezes her wrist until she gasps, drops the blade back

in the bag. He kicks the bag across the room.

He grabs her other wrist and pins both against the bed with

one hand. He frisks her - palms running around her belly

and back, between her legs, looking for anything concealed.

His palm-pats, become paws. Arousal sedates panic. A heavy

erection shows through his thermals.

He releases her hands.

She unbuttons his thermals. Together they pull them off. He

is naked. She grips his shoulders and sits him down on the

bed.

She straddles him and runs her hand over his penis. He

grabs her wrist defensively - but she calms him, taking his

hand and placing it on her breast. She squeezes his hand;

his hand squeezes her breast in turn. She keeps doing it

until his hand develops a grip of its own.

She grinds her hips against him, underwear still on.

INT. CABIN, SEED ROOM - NIGHT

Kathryn stares at the moonlight through the windows. She

can hear the faint squeak of the mattress.

FADE TO:

INT. CABIN, MAIN ROOM - NIGHT

Survivalist lies naked beside Milja, who lies with her back

to him. His belly is wet.

He looks at the back of her head, greasy hair pooling on

the mattress. He pushes his fingers along the mattress and

touches her hair gently.

She feels the movement and turns slightly.

MILJA:

Can I sleep in my mother's room?

INT. CABIN, SEED ROOM - NIGHT

Milja lies in her mother's arms in the tight space. She

rubs her daughter's shoulders gently. Moonlight falls on

them through the rear window.

INT. CABIN, MAIN ROOM - NIGHT

Survivalist lies alone, awake; eyes on the ceiling and

burning with thoughts.

He looks at Milja's shirt - crumpled on the ground.

He steps out of bed and picks it up. Brings it to his nose

and breathes in the fabric.

INT. CABIN, SEED ROOM - DAY

The doors unlocks and opens suddenly, waking Kathryn and

Milja. Survivalist stands in the doorway, shotgun strapped

over shoulder.

They sit up, draw close.

He turns and walks outside, leaving the door open.

EXT. CABIN, FRONT - DAY

Milja and Kathryn emerge from the cabin into the chill

spring air.

Survivalist is at the far end of the plot raking weeds with

a pick hoe. They exchange wary looks.

Milja observes the vegetables; the scale, the drainage, the

cleared soil. She trudges towards the tree line.

SURVIVALIST:

Toilet?

(she nods)

Heaps are over there. Use your nose.

She disappears into the tree line, leaving Kathryn alone

with Survivalist.

KATHRYN:

She likes you.

He tenses, hesitating with the pick hoe for a moment. Then

he hacks at the ground again.

KATHRYN (cont'd)

She's rather shy about it, I think.

But one can tell. Do you like her?

He doesn't answer.

KATHRYN (cont'd)

Would you like to keep seeing her?

She ambles closer to him, gazing round the farm.

KATHRYN (cont'd)

We could clear more land. More hands

to manage it.

SURVIVALIST:

Farm is small for a reason.

KATHRYN:

To keep it out of sight. But we

still found it. A few extra hectares

isn't going to make you any more

visible. Meantime, we can use your

stores, whatever surplus-

SURVIVALIST:

It's not surplus. It's security.

Cold snap. Blight. Raiders.

KATHRYN:

More hands on deck then. For stormy

weather.

SURVIVALIST:

I've managed so far.

KATHRYN:

You've been lucky.

He SLAMS the hoe into the ground.

SURVIVALIST:

Luck had nothing to do with it.

He stands and walks away from her.

EXT. STREAM - DAY

Survivalist splashes into the water. He kneels and dips two

hands deep as the cold rocks, brings water to mouth.

A flurry of movement downstream - his shotgun is to hand

instantly.

He sees Milja, pulling up her trousers.

His gun is down as quick as it was raised.

She stands, zips herself.

SURVIVALIST:

You can't stay here.

She climbs up the bank. At the top, she looks down at him,

head tilting in a girlish way.

MILJA:

I'll always wonder what you looked

like.

Self-conscious, Survivalist looks down into the stream. In

the shimmering reflection, his thick, beast-like beard. He

looks back up toward her. A flush of something he hasn't

felt in years...

She raises her fingers, to indicate she's going for her

bag. She takes out the razor slowly, light bouncing from

the stream onto its shiny silver.

His hands slip to the stock of the gun again.

She folds the knife back in its case, and throws it to him.

His hands drop the gun and catch it, off-guard. The shotgun

swings on the strap.

MILJA (cont'd)

If you're worried about deep cuts,

it's sharp enough to scar, perhaps.

But no deeper.

He inspects the sharp of the blade, runs it bloodlessly

against his skin.

INT. CABIN, MAIN ROOM - DAY

Survivalist sits with a rigid back to the window. Milja

rubs hot water over Survivalist's beard. Her fingers smooth

and damp his hairs gently, fingertips touching the skin of

his neck.

She clips at the beard with scissors.

After a while, it is clumps of uneven hair, patches of skin

showing. She dips the hot water with her fingers and wets

his hair again. His head bobs gently under her control.

EXT. CABIN, FRONT - DAY

Kathryn spies the scene from the window.

INT. CABIN, MAIN ROOM - DAY

Milja sharpens the razor on a wet stone. She dips it in a

bowl of solar-warmed water.

Survivalist breathes sharply through his nose.

She brings the blade up to his neck. His hand snaps up, but

she intercepts his wrist firmly. Puts it by his side again.

She presses the knife along his cheek, pressing the skin

tight with her fingers. Then she slides it down.

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