Script
EXT.	A WOODED AREA	NIGHT	

We are looking at These woods fran across a two-lane road with a
few stores, fast-food places, etc. on it. A plane has crashed on
the road. Itís a smouldering wreck, but we can read the tail
ID number: N9758 and part of what was written on the side: TOOLKIT
SPECIAL.

Close by the road: A mailbox.

SOUND:	Bouy-bells.

SOUND:	Branches crackling underfoot.

BILL appears. BRETT is next to him.

EXT.  THE DRAWBRIDGE. BILLíS AND BRETT'S POV NIGHT	

Itís still up. Behind it, the sky is red with flames.

EXT. BILL, BRETT, AND THE OTHERS
	
                           DEKE

                 Whatís burning. Bill?

                           BILL (grim)
                 Wilmington Deke. All of the
                 east coast, maybe. (To the
                 others) We have to cross the
                 road. I'm going to go out and
                 make sure itís deserted. When
                 I wave the rest of you come...
                 and donít linger.

                           BRETT
                 Iím coming with YOU.

                           BILL
                 No youíre not.

                           BRETT
                 Why?

                           BILL
                 Donít you go to the movies?
                 Heroes always do this shit
                 alone.

He runs toward the road.

EXT.	BILL AT THE MAILBOX	

He crouches behind it for a moment ana starts to look out. Just as
he does we hear an ELECTRICAL HUMMING SOUND approaching. BILL draws
back, then looks toward:

EXT.	THE EDGE OF THE WOODS,  BILL'S PDV	

Some of the others, with BRETT and DEKE in the back, have crept
anxiously out of the woods to see how it's going with BILL.

EXT.	 BILL, BEHIND THE MAILBOX
	
HUMMING SOUND IS LOUDER. BILL waves for them, to go back.

EXT.	THE GROUP AT THE EDGE 0F THE WOODS	

BRETT looks puzzled. "What?íí she mouths.

EXT. BILL, BEHIND THE MAILBOX	
		   
He waves madly for them to go back. HUMMING SOUND is STILL LOUDER.

EXT. THE GROUP AT THE EDGE OF THE WOODS	

BRETT understands. They fade back.

EXT. BILL, BEHIND THE MAILBOX	

He sneaks a peak at:

EXT.	THE ROAD, BILL'S POV	

Here comes a ghostly caravan of empty golf-carts, looking
like Snow White's drawfs marching back from a hard day at the mine.
Their headlamps glimmer, they skirt the wreck of the plane and hum,
omward.

EXT.	BILL, BEHIND THE MAILBDX	

He draws back, sweating, as the dim glow of their headlamps washes
around him and the HUMMING SOUND starts to fade a little. He looks
around the other side at:

EXT.	THE ROAD AND THE GOLF-CARTS. BILLíS POV	

Now we see their little round tailights going away.


EXT.	BILL, BEHIND THE MAILBOX

He looks awhile longer at the road, then back toward the woods.
He gives a come-on gesture.

EXT.	THE WOODS

BILL'S group breaks over and runs, bent-over, toward the road.

A FAST FOOD PLACE, HOPEFULLY MCDíS, FROM THE FRONT	

Our group runs across the road toward it and around the side. The
SOUND of bouys is louder; we also hear the SOUND of the ocean now.
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