Dawn Of The Dead

The boy on the floor manages to level off his pistol. He fires
at the ghoulish head which draws closer to his leg. The thing’s
skull blows open and its grasp relaxes. The boy is shaking
violently. His arm and gun stay in the air, still poised. He
fires again…and again…and again.

56 In the hall, the male Zombie appears, and the crowd panics. The
Troopers try to keep things calm.

S.W.A.T. 3: IT’S ONE OF THEM…MY GOD…IT’S ONE OF THEM.

S.W.A.T. 4: SHOOT FOR THE HEAD.

Woman: NO! NO! MIGUEL…DIOS MIO…MIGUELITO…

The woman pushes through the crowd. The Zombies advances. Before
the Trooper can stop her, the woman throws her arms around the
creature.

Woman: MIGUEL…MI VIDA…MIGUELITO…

S.W.A.T. 3: GRAB HER…GET HER OUT OF THERE…
(his gun is levelled off, but he can’t get a shot)

The Zombie clutches at the woman. It bites at her neck…her
arm. She screams with terror. She tries to pull away, but the
creature holds her. It bites again. A Trooper comes up from
behind and tries to wrestle the creature away. Another Trooper
grabs the woman and tries to free her. She is screaming
insanely. The Zombie pulls another piece of flesh off her arm.

S.W.A.T. 3: STAND CLEAR…FOR CHRISSAKE…STAND CLEAR!

57 In the apartment, the female Zombie lunges at the third Trooper
and the two tumble to the floor. Roger wrestles her free and,
with all his might, throws her against the wall. She advances
again. Roger raises his gun, She is just about to reach him. He
fires. The bullet drops her.

58 In the hall, a Trooper brings his gun butt slamming against the
male ghoul’s head. The creature loses his grip on the screaming
woman. The Trooper who is holding her, pulls her free across the
floor. S.W.A.T. 3 fires. The bullet tears through the Zombie’s
shoulder…another shot…through his neck…another…through
the skull. It falls.

59 There is finally a calm. A few of the citizens murmur prayers.
Troopers and befuddled old people seem to drift through the
clouds of gas in a totally dazed state.

60 Roger and the third Trooper from the apartment drift to the
hallway. The third Trooper moves into the crowd, but Roger
stands against the open door jamb for a moment.

A sudden, loud gunshot makes Roger duck and spin around. He
looks into the apartment. The young Trooper has shot himself
through the head.

61 In the dark firestair, it is very quiet. Roger bursts through a
metal door from one of the halls and falls against the stair
railing. He is retching. He breathes heavily to contain himself.
He removes his mask and coughs slightly from the gas mist which
still clings in the air.

Voice: YOU’RE NOT ALONE BROTHER.

Roger tightens, grabbing for his gun. The voice is present; very
nearby. Roger looks up. Sitting on the stairs above is the
Trooper who shot Wooley. His rifle is aimed at Roger.

Voice: YOU WAS IN WOOLEY’S UNIT.

Roger: I DIDN’T SEE NOTHIN.
I DIDN’T SEE HOW HE DIED.

Roger slings his rifle, so the Trooper relaxes and lowers his
gun. He removes his gas mask. He is Black.

Roger: YOU RUNNIN?

The Black man shrugs. He hasn’t decided.

Roger: I DON’T JUST MEAN ‘CAUSE OF WOOLEY.
I JUST MEAN ‘CAUSE OF…

Voice: YEAH. I KNOW.

Roger: THERE’S A LOT OF PEOPLE RUNNIN’.
I COULD RUN.

Roger stares up at the grim faced Black.

Roger: I COULD RUN RIGHT TONIGHT.

The black man just stares levelly into Roger’s eyes.

Roger: FRIEND OF MINE GOT A HELICOPTER. HE DOES
TRAFFIC FOR J.A.S. GOT A HELICOPTER AND HE’S
RUNNIN’ OUT WITH IT. AS’T ME T’COME.

The Black man smiles.

Roger: YOU THINK IT’S RIGHT TO RUN?

The Black man shrugs again, then he stands and walks down the
stairs. HE turns past Roger on the landing and continues down
into the lingering gas mist. Roger follows.

62 A few landings down…a noise. The two Troopers freeze. The
stairwell is dark. The noise grows louder. The Troopers ready
their weapons.

The sounds are little scraping thumps, like the weary foot falls
of someone…something…trying to negotiate the stairs…There
is the low, wheezing sound of laboured breath.

The men stare at the landing below. The Black man steps forward
slightly, trying not to make a sound.

Suddenly, a figure pops out of the darkness. It falls against
the wall below. Both Troopers raise their guns. The figure pulls
away from the wall. In the mist, it’s shape is ghostly…
robed…in black…is sees the Troopers…

Figure: SENORES…
PLEASE TO LET ME PASS…

The voice weakens into a low wheezing cough. The figure slumps
and sits on the steps, clinging to the railing. It is an old
Priest, obviously from a local Puerto Rican Parish.

Roger stoops next to the old man, who is struggling to keep his
breath. He is weary. He seems to be near death. He clutches at
his chest.

Roger tries to support him.

Roger: LET’S GET HIM TO THE MEDICS…

Priest: NO…NO…NO…PLEASE. JUST…LET
ME PASS…MY SISTER…I GO UP TO SEVEN
FLOOR…TO FIND MY SISTER…

Roger: THEY’RE TAKIN’ EVERYONE DOWN…THEY PROBABLY
BROUGHT HER DOWN…COME ONE…

Priest: MY SISTER…SHE IS DEAD…THEY TELL ME…
THE DEAD THEY DO NOT BRING DOWN.

Roger and the Black Trooper shoot glances at one another.

Priest: JUST LET ME PASS. MARTINEZ IS DEAD.
THE PEOPLE OF 107 WILL DO WHAT YOU
WISH NOW. THESE SIMPLE PEOPLE…
BUT STRONG…THEY HAVE LITTLE…BUT THEY
DO NOT GIVE IT UP EASILY. AND THEY GIVE
UP THEIR DEAD…TO NO ONE!

The Priest goes into a coughing fit. The Troopers look on. Roger
wants to help in some way.

Priest: MANY HAVE DIED ON THESE STREETS IN THE LAST
WEEKS…IN THE BASEMENT OF THIS BUILDING
YOU FIND THEM…

The Troopers are shocked. The Priest struggles to his feet.

Priest: I HAVE GIVEN THEM THE LAST RITES.
NOW…YOU DO WHAT YOU WILL…

The old man starts up the stairs. Roger moves to help him, but
the big Black man stops him. The Priest weaves up through the
gas mist, coughing.

Priest: YOU ARE STRONGER THAN US…BUT SOON, I
THINK…THEY BE STRONGER THAN YOU…

The old man’s voice trails off up the stairwell as he disappears
in the cloud…

Priest: WHEN THE DEAD WALK, SENORES…WE MUST
STOP THE KILLING…OR WE LOSE THE WAR…

63 In the basement of the large building, S.W.A.T. troopers pry at
the boards which are nailed over the entrance to the storage
area.

The rest of the riot troops stand at the ready, weapons
raised…high powered rifles…flame throwers…

The nails creak loudly as they are pulled free. The men are
silent, not knowing what to expect.

There are three boards left…then two…

With a great, tearing sound, the door flies open before the men
remove the last boards. The boards fly and the door almost rips
off its hinges. Like flood waters, a small army of Zombies
pushes into the hall.

They are wide eyed and terrifying. In life, they were mostly
Blacks and Puerto Ricans from the neighbouring buildings. They
are all ages, from the very old to the very young.

The riot troops are stunned. They cannot react quickly enough,
and the squeeze is so tight in the little hall that it is
impossible to shoot accurately, or without the bullets injuring
other troopers.

The men fight back, wrestling and trying to back away. In the
front line, Zombies bite at the flesh of the humans. Teeth tear
into arms and hands. Some men are trampled in the crush.

Commander: BACK OFF…BACK OFF…SPREAD OUT…

The rear lines retreat into the wider vestibule, and as the mass
of struggling bodies spreads out, shots begin to fire. Some
Troopers, at close quarters, are able to fire off accurate
rounds with their hand guns. Others fall and are lunged at by
clutching ghouls.

Roger and the Black Trooper are in the middle of the battle.
They fight off several of the creatures. The battle spreads into
little skirmishes through the dark hallways. The highly
organised Troopers are scattered and confused by the mindless
onslaught.

64 As the main action moves away from the entrance to the storage
area, several Troopers move into the room.

The walls are dank and grey. There is a dripping sound. All
around lie remnants of human civilisation. Baby buggies and
bicycles chained to pipes which ring the area. Large trunks and
cartons of every size and shape; old beds and other furniture.

And here and there throughout the large area lie the remains of
corpses. They have been eaten away. Most of them are still
moving, their heads uninjured.

Two of the Troopers retreat, revulsed. The sound of the gunfire
and screaming can be heard from the hall.

The big Black man walks calmly into the room. Roger watches him.
He walks up to the writhing creatures one at a time, and fires
carefully aimed shots into their heads with his hand gun. Tears
roll down his cheeks.

Some of the creatures are without arms and legs. Some have been
eaten away about the neck and shoulder. They moan with a
gurgling, gutteral sound as they try to move.

A young Black Zombie, pulling itself along the floor with one
arm, draws close to the Black Trooper. The big man aims his
pistol. It clicks…empty. He quickly and efficiently reaches
for more ammunition and begins to reload. The Zombie pulls
closer, its mouth wide.

Roger steps up behind the other Trooper and fires into the
creatures head with his automatic rifle.

The Black man brushes tears from his eyes and continues to load
the pistol.

Roger disposes of several other creatures. he comes to a place
where several are piled together. Some lie still, others writhe
about. Two on the heap, although they cannot move about, are
eating at parts of other bodies. Roger shoots them. They never
look up. They don’t seem to notice him at all.

A loud creaking sound breaks the mood suddenly. Roger looks up.

65 In the ceiling, a double set of loading doors has been opened.
Several other Troopers look down into the storage area.

Trooper: JESUS CHRIST.

He shines a light beam down towards Roger.

Trooper: YOU OK DOWN THERE?

64 Roger nods.

65 Trooper: THIS MUST BE WHERE THEY DUMPED ‘EM IN.

64 Roger looks down at the pile of corpses beneath the opening.

65 Trooper: YOU NEED MORE MEN?

64 Roger shakes his head “no”.

65 Trooper: JESUS CHRIST.

The trooper leaves the opening. He is replaced by two others who
just stare down into the storage room through the weird, round
lenses of their masks.

66 The distant sounds of the battle in the hall flare up again. The
big Black man snaps his loaded clip into his pistol and takes a
few steps forwards. He sees a corpse wrapped in a bed sheet and
tied securely with clothes line. It looks like a mummy. It is
writhing, trying to free itself. he shoots it through the head.

Nearby, a small corpse, that of a very young child, is also
writhing, but the end of the shroud, where the child’s feet
should be, has been torn open and is bloody. A stump kicks
around the blood where a foot has been eaten off. The Black man
fires into the thing’s head.

Roger: THEY…ATTACK…EACH OTHER…

Black: JUST THE FRESH CORPSES…BEFORE THEY REVIVE…

Roger: WHY DID THESE PEOPLE KEEP THEM HERE? WHY
DON’T THEY TURN THEM OVER…OR…OR DESTROY
THEM THEMSELVES…IT’S INSANE…WHY DO THEY
DO IT?

Black: ‘CAUSE THEY STILL BELIEVE THERE’S
RESPECT IN DYING.

The big man fires into the head of another squirming Zombie.

67 In the halls of the building, Troopers fall and are pounced on
by ghouls. Other Troopers fire their automatics through the
heads of attacking Zombies. The riot troops try to stay
organised, but the onslaught is so mindless and random that it
is turning into a riot.

68A The buildings of Philadelphia loom in the moonlight. What few
lights remain lit reflect in the waters of the Delaware.

68B It is quiet except for the slight sounds of lapping water and an
occasional wooden creak as the floating docks strain against one
another.

There are a few big Police launches still docked in the marina.
They bob about silently. The chain, which normally restricted
the area, is broken and dangling. The sign, which reads: CITY OF
PHILADELPHIA – POLICE – NO ADMITTANCE clangs against the broken
chain in the wind.

Halfway down the long dock is a little guard house. Inside,
sitting at a radio transmitter, is the corpse of a uniformed
guard.

Nearby is a separate floating dock on which is painted a large
square pattern. It is a landing bay for Police helicopters.
Alongside, afloat separately but securely chained fast, is a
small fuel barge, with pumps and hoses for refueling the chopper
and launches.

The other bodies lie bleeding on the bobbing docks, another
officer and a civilian. A bell buoy rings in the distance and we
begin to hear the sound of an approaching helicopter.

The blades of the J.A.S. Traffic Copter whine as they gear down
for a landing. The whirlybird settles like a hummingbird on the
gently bobbing heliport.

69 With the blades still spinning loudly, Stephen hops out of the
cockpit.

Steve: COME ON…I NEED YOU.

Francine unbuckles her safety belt and jumps out of her side of
the machine. Steve runs, ducking under the blades, around to the
woman’s side of the cockpit, grabs her hand, and they make for
the fuel pumps.

Steve: I DON’T SEE ROGER. WE’LL GIVE HIM TEN MINUTES.

Fran: OH MY GOD!

70 The woman freezes in mid stride, and her action brings Stephen’s
eyes around to see what she is staring at. The two bodies which
lie near the fuel pumps.

Steve: YOU HAVEN’T BEEN OUT IN IT AT ALL.
IT’S TOUGH TO GET USED TO IT.

He pulls her quickly along. They have to actually step over the
civilian corpse. Fran freezes again. She can’t bring herself to
walk over the body. Steve lets go of her hand and checking the
tank gauge, he pulls the hose with him as he moves quickly back
to Fran. The long hose is heavy, and it bobbles the civilian
corpse, almost rolling it over. The back of the bodies head has
been blown out by the exit wound of a powerful bullet. Blood
still runs. The wound is fresh. Steve does not see this as he
tugs the hose over the corpse and moves to the helicopter with
Fran following.

71 At the side of the machine, the blades still spinning overhead,
Steve jams the hose nozzle into the fuel tank receptacle. He
pulls one of Fran’s hands into the nozzle mechanism.

Steve: JUST LIKE THIS…LIKE A CAR…

Fran responds, getting the feel of the nozzle trigger.

Steve: THAT’S IT…JUST HOLD HER THERE ‘TIL SHE
SPITS OUT AT YA.

The woman takes over and Stephen trots away toward the guard
shed. The propeller blades still spin. They make an eerie,
whispering sound as they pass over Fran’s head. She can hear the
lapping water now, and the creaking moans of the shifting docks.
She looks this way and that, fear in her eyes.

72 At the guard house, Stephen rushes in to find the dead radio
operator. A signal is coming over the receiver in Morse Code.
The corpse is slumped over the desk and it is covering the send
key. A small entry wound is barely visible in the back of the
dead man’s head. As Stephen pulls the body up to an erect
posture in its chair, he sees that the exit of the bullet all
but obliterated the corpse’s face. Again the wound is still
running and bits of flesh and blood are splattered about the
desk and the radio unit.

Stephen clicks on the send switch and he quickly begins to send
a message in Morse:

OPERATOR DEAD…POST ABANDONED…

73 Back on the fuel dock, the long hose brushes over the civilian
corpse. A shadow moves nearby, making is aware of a presence
other than Fran’s.

74 The woman switches hands on the pump nozzle. The blades still
whoosh overhead. Then she hears the sound of another engine. She
looks towards the mainland. The headlights of an approaching
vehicle can be seen.

75 At the guard house, Stephen, hearing the approaching engine,
steps into the doorway and looks up the dock. He calls to Fran.

Steve: I HOPE IT’S ROGER.

76 Fran: WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

Steve: I’LL BE RIGHT THERE.

77 He ducks back into the shed. He snatches up a First Aid Kit and
throws it into a khaki knapsack. He rummages in the darkness. He
finds a toolbox.

As he stands up, he backs into a tall figure which stands in the
shadows. Feeling something sharp and hard against his back.
Steve recoils and spins to face the figure. It is a uniformed
officer. His rifle is levelled off at Steve’s chest. From out of
the shadows, a second Policeman appears with a hand gun cocked
and aimed.

78 Fran’s eyes strain to discern the approaching vehicle, but
suddenly she catches a movement in the corner of her vision.
Through the open sides of the helicopter bubble, she notices a
Police van. It has been there all along, it’s doors flung wide
open, as though abandoned hurriedly. Now one of the rear doors
move. A figure appears carrying a large packing carton. The
figure is uniformed, with two rifles strapped to its back. It
rushes toward the launch docks.

Voice: JUST STAY COOL.

Fran, already startled by the running figure, is now doubly
shocked by the calm voice behind her. She spins and the fuel
nozzle clatters out of it’s receptacle to the wooden dock
boards. She is facing another “Policeman”, to aims a rifle
directly at her head.

Officer 1: IF YOU DIE…IT’LL BE YOUR OWN FAULT.

The Officer who is running with the carton shouts toward the
Guard House.

Officer 2: COME ON SKIPPER…THEY GOT FRIENDS COMIN’.

79 In the Guard House, Steve is held at bay by one of the Officers
while the other uniformed man moves to the door to check the
progress of the approaching vehicles.

Officer 3: WHO ARE YOU?

Steve: WE’RE WITH J.A.S…WE…

Officer 4: (at the door)
ABOUT A MINUTE AND A HALF.
(referring to the arrival time of the vehicle)

Officer 3, the Skipper, pushes Steve with his gun barrel. Steve
spins out through the open doorway. He looks up the dock and
sees the vehicle which is just turning onto the pier which is
almost a mile long.