No One Lives

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NO ONE LIVES by David Cohen September 11, 2009 FADE IN: EXT. MEADOW - NIGHT Moonlight drips off dewy weeds like diamonds. Heavy BREATHING suggests climax. CLOSE ON - a girl’s lips, wet with exhaustion. Hair in her eyes, sticking to her forehead. She wipes strands away with cracked, bloody nails. Blood smears her rouged cheeks. Moonlight reflects in her eyes. Blinks. Enough time has passed. She flips over... She’s 18, with a natural beauty punctuated by fierce determination. The look in her eyes is not yet that of fear, but rather, hatred. She focuses on the perimeter of the field where - The foot tall grass meets a wall of dense forest. Nothing alive in there. Nothing moving. She holds steady. Staring. Counts in nervous rasps... GIRL One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. No movement. Nothing. GIRL Come on, bitch. You can do it. She can’t move. Frozen in place, when - A FIGURE, a man, steps out of the forest into the meadow’s edge. We can’t see his face, but she knows... He’s staring right at her. She drops into the grass. Eyes flitting at the massive open night sky above her. Too many stars. No focus. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She RUNS. Wearing only panties and a guinea T, she bolts on strong legs. The dew causing the dirt to smear along her thighs like so much mascara. She runs for the far edge of the meadow where the great lawn meets an intimidating thick of trees. As she closes in on the forest... 2.
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01 septembre 2011

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NO ONE LIVES
by David Cohen
September 11, 2009
FADE IN:
EXT. MEADOW - NIGHT
Moonlight drips off dewy weeds like diamonds.
Heavy BREATHING suggests climax.
CLOSE ON - a girls lips, wet with exhaustion. Hair in her eyes, sticking to her forehead. She wipes strands away with cracked, bloody nails.
Blood smears her rouged cheeks. Moonlight reflects in her eyes. Blinks. Enough time has passed. She flips over...
Shes 18, with a natural beauty punctuated by fierce determination. The look in her eyes is not yet that of fear, but rather, hatred.
She focuses on the perimeter of the field where -
The foot tall grass meets a wall of dense forest. Nothing alive in there. Nothing moving.
She holds steady. Staring. Counts in nervous rasps...
GIRL One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
No movement. Nothing.
GIRL Come on, bitch. You can do it.
She cant move. Frozen in place, when -
A FIGURE, a man, steps out of the forest into the meadows edge. We cant see his face, but she knows...
Hes staring right at her.
She drops into the grass. Eyes flitting at the massive open night sky above her. Too many stars. No focus. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She RUNS.
Wearing only panties and a guinea T, she bolts on strong legs. The dew causing the dirt to smear along her thighs like so much mascara. She runs for the far edge of the meadow where the great lawn meets an intimidating thick of trees.
As she closes in on the forest...
2.
The Man STEPS from the woods, into the meadow. The very grass seems to wither under his weight. Faceless, cloaked in shadow, he breaks into a steady run.
The Girl hits the woods in a full panicked run.
EXT. WOODS - SAME
Bramble and twigs meet her exposed flesh and tear at her. She ignores the pain. Runs on bare feet over decades of desiccated foliage. The sloughing of nature.
Trees seem to grope for her. Out the corner of her eye she sees a SILVER BOX.
A WIRE glitters.
She jumps the wire. Runs on.
Slides down a ravine, kicking away sharp branches, reaching the bottom. She looks UP...
The Figure approaches the edge.
GIRL FUCK YOU!!!
He begins to slide down the ravine. She runs.
Beelines straight through a wall of bramble.
EXT. CREEK - NIGHT
Moonlight ripples through the overhang of leaves onto a slow creek. She doesnt slow down and splashes through four inches of water.
ON HER BARE FEET - slicing through the creek...and then into the water, over the creek bed thats lined with BROKEN GLASS.
She runs, missing the shards of glass and then CATCHES ONE.
GLASS TEARS INTO THE SIDE OF HER FOOT.
The Girl holds her hand to her mouth to stop from screaming. She stops in the middle of the creek and looks around...
BROKEN SHARDS OF GLASS surround her. Tears explode. Hyperventilating, she eases her way to the other side of the creek.
3.
Inspects her foot. Rips out a three inch piece of GLASS. Takes off her T-shirt and ties it around the gash. Ties it tight. Runs, holding the glass tight in her hand.
She runs through the woods.
EXT. CREEK - NIGHT
The FIGURE splashes through the creek. Glass means nothing to his heavy boots.
He reaches the far side. The woods echo silence. He bends down and dips his fingers in a PUDDLE OF BLOOD. Catches the MOON GLITTER WHITE off a second shimmering puddle.
EXT. WOODS - NIGHT
The Girl can HEAR THE ROAD ahead.
Through the trees she can see cars. The roar of eighteen wheelers. She pounds over the terrain, running for the road, but before she can react to the -
SILVER BOX
She trips a wire and...
THREE THICK NYLON CABLES triangulate and catch her at the knees. Shes hauled off her feet, SMACKING HER HEAD ON THE GROUND and then pulled up...
...and off the ground. Swinging. Blood from her head dripping, peppering the forest floor with an all too real fate.
She REACHES OUT. GRABS hold of a nearby Alder tree on her pendulous arc. Holds herself there and uses the shard of glass in her hand to CARVE...
EXT. WOODS - SAME
The Figure stops dead. He directs his attention toward the East.
Slowly, methodically he breaks off a HEAVY BRANCH and heads toward the sound of the road.
EXT. WOODS - NIGHT
4.
The Girl painstakingly carves her message into the tree, the glass cutting into her palm. Blood peppering the forest floor. She finishes and we read her handiwork...
EMMA WARD IS ALIVE
EMMA lets go of the tree. Swings.
EXT. WOODS - NIGHT
From the depths of the woods, the Figure draws closer.
EXT. WOODS - SAME
Emmas POV - The FIGURE enters her periphery.
EMMA Oh, please, no...
Emma holds the SHARD OF GLASS in her hand like a knife. As if it will help.
He approaches, swinging the HEAVY BRANCH at his side, Emma stabs futilely at the space between them.
EMMA Stay away. Stay away. Please...
He takes a running start and swings the branch at her head -
ALL GOES BLACK.
EXT. HIGHWAY - DAY
Washington State Route 90. The road itself cuts a swath through a dense sea of forest.
A BLACK 7 SERIES BMW pulling a small U-Haul trailer blazes east.
We stay on the car as it travels from the semi-populated, what could be said, suburban part of the state to the sparse, off the grid, no mans land...
INT. BMW - DAY
A dark beauty, in a pretty flowered dress, stares out the passenger window at the blur of trees.
5.
In her late 20s, BETTY flirts with melancholia. Shes lost something in her life, but knows that happiness is within her grasp.
BETTY I dont know, its just not going to be the same.
The DRIVER, 38, handsome with piercing eyes, an inner strength to match his muscular prowess, smiles at her.
DRIVER Trust me. Itll be the same.
BETTY Im going to miss everyone.
Driver ruminates on that one. Hell miss them as well.
DRIVER Its life, Betty. Sometimes its necessary to relocate.
BETTY Dont make it seem like its not your fault.
DRIVER Out of every bad situation comes something good. Dont you agree?
BETTY You have a truly demented way of looking at things.
DRIVER And if I didnt, I dont think youd be so in love with me.
BETTY Dont flatter yourself. Everything gets warped in definition.
DRIVER Were splitting hairs here. You know that, dont you?
She continues to stare out the window. Silence. Driver cant handle the cold shoulder.
DRIVER Hey, why dont we do a little sightseeing.(MORE)
DRIVER (CONT'D) Im sure theres something to look at besides all these trees, right?
EXT. GLACIER NATIONAL PARK - DAY
Driver and Betty gaze out from an outcropping at...
ACRES OF BURNED FOREST.
BETTY Its beautiful.
DRIVER Apparently sixteen firefighters were killed during the blaze. Eleven in a firestorm. Five from smoke inhalation.
BETTY Their ghosts are down there.
DRIVER If you believe that sort of thing.
BETTY Dont you?
DRIVER No. I dont believe in ghosts.
BETTY No. I dont imagine you would.
6.
Driver puts his arm around Betty. She lays her head on his shoulder. Together they look at the blackened landscape like lovers standing on the beach.
EXT. RURAL ROAD - DAY
The BMW navigates the winding road. Up ahead is a small motel, The Highwayman, with a vacancy sign.
Adjacent to the motel, a rotary is under construction.
INT. MOTEL - OFFICE - DAY
The BELL over the door rings when it opens. Driver enters.
The owner of the motel, HARRIS, 50, enters from the back room.
HARRIS Please dont say youre here for directions. Ive got fifteen rooms, all with your name on it.
DRIVER The good news is I know exactly where Im going. The bad news is I only need one room.
HARRIS Ill take what I can get.
7.
Harris clicks the computer off of sleep. Sits in front of it.
HARRIS Let me ask you. What would you do if the county tells you theyre going to tear up half your property to build a goddamn rotary? No one asks. They just tell.
DRIVER I dont know. I guess Id make someone pay.
HARRIS Damn straight. Stinking bureaucrats.(beat) I just need a credit card.
As Driver goes for his wallet. HARRIS You solo? Not that it matters. All the rooms have two queens. DRIVER Travelling with my girlfriend.
HARRIS Is it serious? DRIVER Serious as a heart attack. HARRIS Thats what I like to hear.
Harris looks over Drivers shoulder. Spots Betty in the car. HARRIS Pretty. Young.
DRIVER Exactly the way I like them.
Driver hands over his credit card.
Beat.
HARRIS Good for you. Good for you. Me? I been married to the same woman for thirty two years. Since we were eighteen. The only part of her that works the same is her mouth.
DRIVER Well, that might not be such a bad thing.
HARRIS Ha. I just got that. Thats funny. (beat) But not what I meant, unfortunately.
Harris looks at the card.
HARRIS What an unusual name.
DRIVER My father had an unforgiving commitment to historical reference.
HARRIS Well, lets get you set up here, huh? Hows the number eight sound to you?
DRIVER Infinity. I like it.
INT. MOTEL - ROOM 8 - DAY
8.
Its the top of the hour. Driver lays on the bed watching the news.
Betty comes out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower. Shes wrapped up in a towel. Her damp hair only makes her sexier. Driver holds up his hand.
DRIVER Here it is again.
9.
ON THE NEWS - Forensic teams are searching a wooded area. Lots of police tape.
NEWSCASTER (V.O.) Local law enforcement and the F.B.I. are scouring the area north of Spokane for any evidence that can lead them to missing heiress Emma Ward.
A local SHERIFF talks to the media.
CLOSE UP SHOT OF - the carving that reads EMMA WARD IS ALIVE.
SHERIFF (on TV) From what we can tell, the carving is about six months old. Its impossible to get an accurate date, but tree growth on that particular Alder indicates about half a year. Probably done in the spring right around, well, after her abduction.
Driver turns down the TV. Betty looks at him.
BETTY You think theyll ever find her?
DRIVER Doubtful.
BETTY Doubtful suggests theres a chance.
DRIVER Theres always a chance. But you know how these things turn out.
Driver gets off the bed. Turns the TV off. He stands in front of Betty. She smiles at him.
DRIVER Take off the towel.
Betty undoes the towel. It drops to the floor, leaving her naked, vulnerable. He drops to his knees. Buries his face into her belly. His fingers caressing a TWO INCH SCAR THAT CREASES HER PELVIS.
DRIVER Im sorry. Im sorry about everything.
BETTY The man who lacks emotion is sorry? I dont believe it.
DRIVER I dont lack emotion, I just process it differently.
BETTY Must everything about you be different? Id like normal, just for this... (she motions “between the two of them) ...a little normal.
DRIVER I would change it if I could, but I cant. I just cant.
BETTY What doesnt kill us makes us stranger. (beat) Just tell me you dont love her more than me.
Betty shuts her eyes. Waiting for his answer.
DRIVER I dont.
BETTY But I need to hear it.
DRIVER I dont love her more than you. I never did. It was just...different.
10.
Betty pulls him up. Face to face. She begins to unbutton his shirt. His pants.
Clothes fall to the carpet.
Their naked bodies meet on the bed. Writhing flesh. A symphony of forgiveness met with explosive love making.
EXT. HOUSE - ESTABLISHING - DAY
Two MOTORCYCLES, a DODGE PICK-UP and a WHITE WORK VAN are parked outside this quaint, off the road, vacation home.
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