Zombeavers Page #6

SAM:

Or something went wrong.

JENN:

There's someone else.

MARY:

Wait, is it that hunter guy?

SAM:

What hunter guy?

MARY:

Do you see Tommy?

ZOE:

Grab the cane. Wait for me, wait for me!

JENN:

Sh*t, we need to get the boards off the door.

SAM:

Are you sure that's a good idea?

MARY:

Are you kidding? Get over here and help us.

SAM:

I don't know if you know but those things can come back in here and then we're all dead. F*** me.

ZOE:

Baby, come on. Get there. (KNOCKING ON DOOR) Open up!

MARY:

The door's all boarded up.

ZOE:

Why?

MARY:

You know why the f*** why!

ZOE:

Well, hurry up.

BUCK:

You guys. Hey, you guys. Hey you guys, you'd better turn around!

SMYTH:

Filthy, hairy beavers.

(GUNSHOT)

ZOE:

Baby, come on. Get up, get up, get up!

MARY:

Run. Run!

ZOE:

Hurry! Come on, baby.

SMYTH:

Sons of b*tches.

(GUNSHOT)

ZOE:

It's okay, baby. Come on.

(BEAVER SNARLS)

ZOE:

Just a little bit further. Come on.

SAM:

(GASPS)

They're not gonna make it. There's too many of 'em.

(GUNSHOT)

ZOE:

Come on baby, up, up, up! You got it!

MARY:

They made it.

ZOE:

Come on, baby.

MARY:

Tommy's okay, right?

JENN:

Yeah. I'm sure he's still out getting help.

SAM:

Right. Cause there's no reason to think otherwise.

ZOE:

Hello? Maybe they're not home.

SMYTH:

Yeah, that'd be wishful thinking.

ZOE:

(GASPS)

They couldn't be biting through the phone lines on purpose, could they?

SMYTH:

Can't say for certain. Beavers like to chew on sh*t, especially twigs, branches, blades of grass and such. I suppose wires fit the bill as well.

ZOE:

The phone in the cabin. It didn't work either.

SMYTH:

Stay here. I'll check upstairs.

SAM:

When was the last time you picked up an actual book?

MARY:

In class. You should really try it some time.

JENN:

"Beavers are herbivores." Great book.

SAM:

Why don't you try looking up zombie beavers?

MARY:

"They live in family groups or colonies and will defend their lodge against other beavers."

SAM:

Oh, oh, you think the beavers think that they're, that we're other beavers? The f***?

MARY:

"Keen senses of hearing, smell and touch. "They live up to 24 years."

SAM:

Just like us. I mean, if we don't make it out of here.

MARY:

"They're monogamous."

JENN:

Not like us.

(SAM SIGHS)

MARY:

Jenn, it was just, it was just one of those things.

JENN:

So you're saying it was a mistake? Don't answer. You just did.

SAM:

Look. Once the three of us are far away from this cabin, we can sit down like adults and we can try to figure out why you both find me attractive.

MARY:

Jenn, you have every reason to hate me.

JENN:

Why him?

MARY:

I don't know.

SAM:

Listen, we cannot turn against each other right now. That is exactly what the beavers would want.

JENN:

Let me see this. "Animal behaviorists have found beavers to be gentle, reasoning creatures that like to play practical jokes. They are considered to be excellent at building tunnels."

MARY:

I seriously need to lie down.

ZOE:

Okay.

SMYTH:

All clear upstairs. Appears the beavers have left the premises for the time being.

ZOE:

What about the old lady?

SMYTH:

Well, she's still in bed what's left of her, anyway. What you got there? Sandwich?

ZOE:

No, it's Buck's foot. We're keeping it on ice so we could reattach it. That's what we're supposed to do, right? Keep it on ice?

SMYTH:

Well, not directly on ice. It kills the tissue.

ZOE:

Well, sh*t! Well, what shall I do? Shall I wrap it in a towel or something?

SMYTH:

Well, I suppose that depends on when it came off.

ZOE:

I... I don't know. This afternoon, maybe four or five hours ago.

SMYTH:

Technically, I guess there's a chance that they can sew that sucker back on. We'd have to be at the hospital within the hour but that ain't gonna happen. Might as well just chuck the damn thing and call it a day. I'm sorry. Do you want some chicken? There's plenty of it in the fridge over there.

ZOE:

I don't want any chicken. We need to go to the hospital now.

SMYTH:

Well, you know as well as I do that road's blocked. We sure as hell can't get through on foot in pitch dark. With or without carrying the big fella. Plus, beavers are generally more active at night. So I suggest maybe we hole up here till the morning, then one or two of us can make a go at it.

ZOE:

He could bleed to death overnight.

SMYTH:

Yeah, well. I could always cauterize the stump. You sure you don't want some chicken?

ZOE:

I'm not hungry.

MARY:

Jenn? You never cared that Sam cheated, did you? You only cared that it was me. Jenn, I know that we've been through a lot but this isn't going to solve anything. I love you, really, but I... I just don't think of you this way.

(RUSTLING)

(SCREAMS)

(MARY SCREAMS)

(SNARLING)

(GROWLING)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(SMACKING SOUND)

SAM:

Come on. Come on, let's go.

(FIRE CRACKLING)

(COUGHS)

ZOE:

You've done this before, right?

SMYTH:

No, ma'am. But I've seen it on television many a time.

BUCK:

Ugh.

ZOE:

It's okay.

(BUCK WHIMPERS)

(GROWLING)

ZOE:

All right. What the f*** was that?

(BUCK SNARLING)

(SMYTH SCREAMING)

ZOE:

Buck!

(SMYTH GRUNTING)

SMYTH:

Son of a b*tch!

ZOE:

Buck! No!

(BUCK SNARLING)

(BULLET RICOCHETING)

(COCKING)

(GUNSHOT)

(CRYING)

ZOE:

F***.

(SNARLING)

ZOE:

No! Oh no! F***!

(ZOE GASPS)

(SNARLING)

(ZOE SCREAMING)

(THUMPING)

SAM:

What is she doing in there?

MARY:

I don't know.

(JENN SNARLING)

MARY:

It's got to be some kind of virus transmitted by the beavers.

SAM:

Oh, no sh*t! Did you hear her? Did you f***ing see her face?

MARY:

Do you think that we can help her? I mean, do you think it's permanent?

SAM:

I don't know. She's gonna be on medication for the rest of her life. Hey, what are you doing?

MARY:

Are you bit? Are you scratched?

SAM:

I'm fine.

MARY:

Take off your shirt.

SAM:

Why?

MARY:

Just take your f***ing shirt off.

SAM:

Calm down.

(SNARLING)

(GASPING)

(SCREAMS)

(SNARLS)

(SOBBING)

(WHIMPERING)

ZOE:

You f***ing b*tch!

(GUN CLICKING)

(SNARLING)

(SNARLING)

(YELLS)

F***!

(SNARLING)

(FLOORBOARD CRACKING)

SAM:

All right. Come on, come on, come on! They're f***ing everywhere! Oh, the truck! The truck. It was still running, last time I checked.

MARY:

I'm not gonna make a run for it.

SAM:

Mary.

MARY:

Take off your shirt.

SAM:

Why?

MARY:

Take off your f***ing shirt!

SAM:

Satisfied?

MARY:

Now take off the rest.

SAM:

Zombie beavers running around but what the f*** do we care?

MARY:

Turn around.

SAM:

You done?

MARY:

I guess so.

SAM:

Your turn. What's this?

(HEAVY BREATHING)

SAM:

Mary, I promise I'm gonna get us out of here.

MARY:

Don't talk.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes