558 The humans appear on the second storey balcony. Moving to the
railing, looking down to the expanse of the building. They are
guerrilla fighters, with their weapons strapped on. They have
taken the Temple. The music hits a crescendo as the people look
over their spoils. Even the wounded Roger seems triumphant as he
limps to the rails, supporting himself on his arms.
559 We see a spectacular shot of the full expanse of the building.
Zombies lie dead everywhere. The humans have captures the gold of
the Gods…In this case the Gods of Consumer Heaven.
560 Peter’s hand is on the maps of the Maintenance Corridor. He is
drawing a line past the washrooms at the end of the hall near
the firestair.
Peter: WE PUT UP THE WALL HERE. THERE’S NO DOOR FROM
THE LAST OFFICE INTO THE WASHROOMS, SO NOBODY’LL
GET NOSEY…AND THIS WAY WE CAN STILL GET TO THE
PLUMBING…
Steve: WHY CAN’T WE JUST BOARD UP THE STAIRWAY. HELL,
THEY CAN’T EVEN GET THROUGH A STACK OF CARTONS.
Peter: I’M NOT JUST WORRYIN’ ABOUT THEM. SOONER OR
LATER MIGHT BE A PATROL THROUGH HERE…LOOTERS
MAYBE…I DON’T WANT ANYBODY TO EVEN KNOW THAT
STAIRWAY EXISTS.
They look back at the map.
Peter: THE DUCTWORK RUNS ALL THE WAY INTO THE WASHROOMS.
WE’LL HAVE TO GET IN AND OUT THAT WAY. WE’LL
BRING UP ANY BUG STUFF WE WANT BEFORE WE PUT UP
THE WALL.
561 The men sit huddled. The large storage area is filled with
mounds of supplies brought up from the mall stores, but the
stuff all sits around in disarray.
562 Behind the wall of cartons, Roger seems to be sleeping, but he
is sweating feverishly, and his face twitches. Fran has been
trying to soothe him with a wet cloth on his forehead. Now she
stops, leaving the cloth on the shivering head. She moves out
to Stephen and Peter.
563 Fran: HE SEEMS TO BE SLEEPING.
Peter: GOOD.
564 The woman moves to where she has medical supplies on one of the
cartons. There are bottles, vials and diabetic hypo syringes as
well as bandages and dressings from the Pharmacy in the mall.
Fran: I DON’T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO…
Steve: YOU’RE DOIN’ FINE.
Fran: HIS LEG IS AWFUL…THE INFECTION IS SPREADING FAST.
CAN’T WE FLY HIM OUT OF HERE…TRY TO FIND A MED.
UNIT…
565 Steve looks at Peter. The big trooper speaks softly.
Peter: I’VE SEEN HALF A DOZEN GUYS GET BITTEN BY THOSE
THINGS…NONE OF ‘EM LASTED MORE THAN THIRTY SIX
HOURS.
566 Fran is stunned. Suddenly, Roger screams from behind the cartons.
Roger: PETER…PETER…WHERE ARE YOU?
567 Peter: RIGHT HERE, BUDDY.
568 Roger is sitting up. His eyes look very dark and sunken. He is
sweating even more profusely than before.
Roger: YEAH…YEAH…
He licks his lips. He looks around the vast, barren room, trying
to clear his eyesight.
569 Outside, Fran sits on a carton. The men are still huddled
around the spoils. Roger occasional shouts from the other
room.
Roger: WE DID IT, HUH, BUDDY? WE WHIPPED ‘EM.
Peter: THAT’S RIGHT ROG.
Roger: DIDN’T WE? PETER? DIDN’T WE WHIP ‘EM?
Peter: WE SURE DID, BUDDY.
Roger: WE WHIPPED ‘EM AND GOT IT ALL! WE GOT IT ALL!
The man’s voice sounds pathetic as it echoes through the big
storage area bouncing off barren walls.
570 A hammer slams into nails behind the fake wall which the people
are working on. A great network of two-by-fours are braced at
the rear of the corridor, more lumber is wedged against walls
making a frame. Stephen is slamming large nails into the
framework for reinforcement. On the frame’s face a masonite
panel is nailed into place on one side. Peter works in the
corridor. He is carefully nailing in a moulding which makes the
new partition look like a finished wall.
In the corridor, there are power tools lying about and a vast
array of other hardware in the gardening cart. Fran appears from
out of the washrooms. She is carrying an old can of paint which
has obviously been used.
Fran: THIS MUST HAVE BEEN FOR TOUCH UP…IT LOOKS
PERFECT.
Peter grabs the can and pries it open quickly with a screw
driver. He dips his finger into the liquid and smears some onto
the new wall where it butts against the corridor. It is a
perfect match.
Steve: (to Fran) ANYTHING ELSE YOU WANT BEFORE WE CLOSE
IT OFF?
Fran: NO…
The woman is staring down the corridor toward the mall proper.
571 The corpses from the hall have been carried out of the way.
They are piled together at the corridor mouth on the balcony.
It is a grisly sight. Fran turns away.
572 Fran: NO.
She steps back through the unfinished partition, leans against
the framework. Her hand goes to her mouth as she tries to choke
back a gag. Steve moves up behind her, but she feels another
wave of nausea and she darts for the washroom. Steve sets down
his hammer and follows.
573 The woman is kneeling on the floor, propped up by her hands on
the toilet seat. She is vomiting. Steve approaches quietly. His
hand falls on her back.
Fran: LEAVE ME ALONE…IT’S ALRIGHT…IT’S MY PROBLEM.
Steve: FRANNIE…
Fran: JUST GET OUTA HERE, STEPHEN…I DON’T WANT YOU
HERE.
The man doesn’t move. Fran reaches up, taking his hand. She
clutches it tightly, indicating that she is not angry.
Fran: I DON’T WANT YOU TO SEE ME THIS WAY…
Another wave hits her and she wretches again. She pulls her
hand back leaning over the toilet bowl.
Fran: PLEASE GO…I’M ALRIGHT…PLEASE…
Stephen stands up reluctantly and drift out of the room. The
woman wretches but she is dry. She tries to swallow. Then sits
on the floor next to the toilet holding her stomach. She
fumbles with the flush handle, depressing it. The rushing water
makes an ugly sound. Fran looks down at her stomach thinking of
her pregnancy.
574 Stephen steps out of the unfinished framework. Peter is gazing
down the corridor at the pile of corpses.
Peter: THIS PLACE IS GONNA BE ROTTEN…WE GOTTA
CLEAN UP, BROTHER.
Flies buzz about the staring faces of the dead things on the
balcony.
575 Peter’s hands are on the round hatch wheel of an enormous safe.
Peter: THEY’RE USUALLY ON A TIMER…OPEN AT
NINE…LOCKED AT FOUR…KEEPS THE BANKERS HONEST.
The wheel spins and Peter swings the giant door open.
576 Inside is a huge safety deposit vault of a bank. The men stand
for a moment in awe. The clean walls are lined with drawers and
doors where depositors have stored their valuables. At one end
of the room there are stacks and stacks of paper bills. The men
approach the piles of money, stooping down.
They each pick up packets of bills and flip through the edges…
Peter stuffs several packets into his knapsack. Steve looks at
him quizzically.
Peter: YOU NEVER KNOW, BROTHER.
Steve takes several stacks and stuffs them into his kit. He
looks about the enormous vault.
Steve: DON’T YA WONDER WHAT THE ARCHAEOLOGISTS ARE GONNA
THINK…GUYS IN THE FUTURE…DIGGIN’ THE PLACE
UP. IMAGINE ALL THE STUFF IN THESE BOXES…
JEWELLERY…MAYBE THEY’LL FIGURE IT’S ALL SOME
KIND OF OFFERING TO THE GODS…LIKE IN THE
PYRAMIDS…A BURIAL CHAMBER.
Peter: THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT IS, NOW…..
577 We see the men wheeling gardening carts piled with corpses. The
sombre image is shocking as the figures move in silhouette
against the bright store fronts with their displays of goods
designed to attract shoppers to the sweet life the items
pretend to represent.
578 At the bank, Peter wheels a cart with several dead Zombies
through the lobby.
579 In the vault, the big Trooper dumps bodies out on top of
several others, already deposited. The corpses lie askew, their
arms and legs protruding. The stacks of money are upset by the
limp action of the bodies as they roll around.
580 A finger flips a switch and we hear the mall music start up
slowly.
581 We see a montage: Fran, Stephen and Peter walk slowly through
the conquered building. They drift in and out of stores picking
up various items. They use shopping carts.
582 Fran rummages idly through the cosmetic department.
583 Peter looks through a book store.
584 Stephen plays the pinball machines in a huge game room.
585 Peter tries on big colourful hats in front if a mirror.
586 Fran trims Stephen’s hair as he sits in the mechanical chair of
the mall Barber Shop.
587 Fran feeds the animals in the Pet Store, then with a bag of seed,
she feeds the Tropical Birds in the tall cage out on the
concourse. The birds flutter, flap about, screeching loudly.
588 Now the group walk along the upper balcony. They look down.
They still have their weapons and kits, Peter is wearing a wide
brimmed hat and Fran sports a new mink coat.
589 The concourse is empty now of corpses, but the group can hear
the moaning and thumping at the main entrances. It is dark
outside, the creatures claw at the doors but cannot be seen in
the shadows under the big trailer trucks. The sound evidences
their presence, however.
590 The people stand at the balcony railing overlooking their realm.
Fran: THEY’RE STILL HERE.
Steve: THEY’RE AFTER US…THEY KNOW WE’RE IN HERE.
Peter: THEY’RE AFTER THE PLACE…THEY DON’T KNOW
WHY…THEY JUST REMEMBER…REMEMBER THAT
THEY WANNA BE IN HERE!
The noise at the entrance continues eerily. Fran starts to be
afraid.
Fran: WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY?
Peter: THEY’RE US, THAT’S ALL. THERE’S NO MORE
ROOM IN HELL.
Steve: WHAT?
Peter: SOMETHIN’ MY GRANDADDY USED TO TELL US…YOU
KNOW MACUMBA? VOODOO… GRANDADDY WAS A PRIEST
IN TRINIDAD. USED TO TELL US…WHEN THERE’S NO
MORE ROOM IN HELL…THE DEAD WILL WALK THE EARTH.
591 Roger is screaming wildly. He is sweating and his face looks
sunken with an ashen colour. He thrashes about as Steve tries to
hold him. His leg is swollen, almost all black. His arm, which
was also bitten, is wrapped but oozing.
Steve: GET MORE VALIUM IN HIM…
Fran fumbles with one of the hypodermics, but she drops the vial
of serum and it shatters on the floor.
Steve: GET ANOTHER ONE…COME ON…
Roger is throwing himself about wildly. Steve barely manages to
hold on. Fran rushes into the other room.
592 The space is starting to look like living quarters. There is
furniture. There are sectioned off areas with things still
packed in cartons, but it is beginning to look like home.
593 The woman rushes to the medical supply area which is now more
organised with little cabinets and a small refrigerator. She
takes a new vial of serum from the freezer.
594 Downstairs, Peter is checking the covering at the floor base of
the fake wall. He hears the violent screaming from above.
595 He climbs up a rope ladder in the ceiling, scrambles through the
grill in the ceiling, enters the duct. Then he pulls up the
ladder and closes the grill.
596 He crawls through the tight space for a few feet, and drops out
of another grill into the washroom.
597 He moves through the internal corridor and into the firestair.
598 All the while, Roger’s screaming can be heard. Peter tramps up
the stairs several at a time.
599 He rushes through the living space in the direction of the
screams.
600 Fran is withdrawing a hypodermic from Roger’s good arm. The man
still thrashes wildly. Steve is struggling to hold him. Peter
rushes in and helps. Fran drifts out of the room.
After a short time Roger relaxes somewhat.
Peter: (to Steve) GO ON…I’LL STAY WITH HIM.
Steve leaves the area.
601 In the living spaces, Fran is sitting in a chair. It is the
inflatable kind, which can be collapsed like a balloon. Steve
comes up to her and puts his arms around her neck from behind.
She cups his hands with hers and holds them tightly. She stares
off across the room.
602 Roger catches his breath and looks up at Peter. He licks his
lips and tries to speak coherently.
Roger: YOU…YOU’LL TAKE CARE OF ME, RIGHT, PETER?
YOU’LL TAKE CARE OF ME…WHEN I GO…
Peter: I WILL.
Roger: I DON’T WANNA BE WALKIN’ AROUND LIKE THAT PETER…
NOT AFTER I GO…I DON’T WANNA BE WALKIN’ AROUND
LIKE THAT…
The man’s eyes are terrified. He looks this way and that at the
walls, the ceiling, at Peter…He can’t focus…
Roger: PETER? PETER?
Peter: I’M HERE, TROOPER.
Roger: YOU’LL TAKE CARE OF ME…I KNOW YOU WILL…
Peter: I WILL.
Roger: PETER?
Peter: YEAH, BROTHER.
Roger: PETER, DON’T DO IT…TIL YOUR SURE…SURE I’M COMIN’
BACK…DON’T DO IT TIL YOU’RE SURE…I MIGHT NOT
COME BACK, PETER…I’M GONNA TRY NOT TO…I’M
GONNA TRY…NOT TO COME BACK…
603 Later, the moon shines down through the skylight in the living
area. A sturdy ladder has now replaced the pyramid of cartons
up to the open hatch.
604 Stephen fiddles with the television. There is a faint signal
coming in. He has the set wired to a makeshift antenna which
stretches through the skylight. A table lamp sits on a small
end table and is lit. Its cable is patched into a network of
wiring which stretches about the room.
605 Fran is unpacking things. She is stacking dishes and silverware.
It is a very orderly scene. The couple looks like a pair of
newlyweds who have just moved into a new house.
606 On the television, two men are talking, a commentator and an
official of the Government. The Scientist is in a suit, but his
tie is rumpled and his collar open. He has not shaved and he
seems very tired and nervously upset.
Scientist: I’VE GOT TO…BE CAREFUL WITH WORDS HERE…WE
HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO STUDY THEIR HABITS…WE’VE
REPEATEDLY ASKED FOR A LIVE CAPTURE SO WE CAN HAVE
CONTROLLED STUDY…WE NEED SUPPLY AND DEMAND
RATIOS.
Comm.: YOU MEAN…THEIR NEED VERSUS…
Scientist: VERSUS THE AMOUNT OF FOOD AVAILABLE. LETS BE BLUNT.
There is a commotion in the TV studio. We hear noises and
shouting, as we did J.A.S. earlier.
607 Steve: JESUS CHRIST.
He squats near the set, staring. Fran comes up behind him.
608 Scientist: PROJECT OUT THEIR RATE OF GROWTH…THERE’S A
CRITICAL BALANCE…AND IT’S THE WASTE THAT KILLS
US. LITERALLY…THEY USE…THEY USE MAYBE FIVE
PERCENT OF THE FOOD AVAILABLE ON THE HUMAN
BODY…AND THEN THE BODY IS USUALLY INTACT ENOUGH
TO BE MOBILE WHEN IT REVIVES. THERE’S AN ECOLOGICAL
IMBALANCE AND THEY’RE INCAPABLE OF UNDERSTANDING…
Comm.: WHAT ARE YOU PROPOSING?
Scientist: WE HAVE TO BE UNEMOTIONAL…WE HAVE TO PROVIDE
COUNTER MEASURES OR WE’RE ALL…
Comm.: COUNTER MEASURES?
Scientist: THEY CAN’T CONTROL THE RATE OF GROWTH AND CON-
SUMPTION…WE HAVE TO CONTROL IT FOR THEM!
Comm.: YOU’RE SUGGESTING THAT WE HELP THEM?
Scientist: BY HELPING THEM IN THIS CASE WE SAVE OURSELVES…
A great outcry is heard in the studio. The camera bobbles
around. The scientist is fumbling for words.
609 Stephen: GOOD GOD.
610 In the other room, Peter sits against a wall. He can hear the
television. His eyes stare straight ahead at something.
Scientist: I’M PROPOSING THAT CERTAIN…NECESSARY MEASURES
BE PUT INTO EFFECT AT ONCE…MEASURES APPLYING TO
ALL OFFICIAL SEARCH AND DESTROY UNITS, WHILE
THEY’RE STILL OPERATIVE…HOSPITALS…RESCUE
STATIONS…AND ANY…PRIVATE CITIZENS…
The camera pulls off Peter’s face. We see that his rifle is
stretched across his lap. The TV drones on from the other room.
Scientist: IN CO-OPERATION WITH THE MOBILE UNITS OF THE O.B.P.
THE CORPSES OF THE RECENTLY DEAD SHOULD BE
DELIVERED OVER TO THE AUTHORITIES FOR COLLECTION
IN REFRIGERATED VANS…THEY SHOULD BE DECAPITATED
TO PREVENT REVIVAL…
We see now what Peter is staring at. On the floor, twenty feet
away lies the corpse of Roger. It’s face is covered with a
blanket. It lies very still.
Scientist: THIS COLLECTION…THIS COLLECTION…
The man’s voice is heard almost shouting over the voices from
the studio. The angry staff protests vigorously, with
emotional language…
Scientist: THIS COLLECTION COULD BE…STORED…RATIONED…
FOR DISTRIBUTION AMONG THE INFECTED SOCIETY…
The shouts of anger continue.
IN AN ATTEMPT…IN AN ATTEMPT TO CURB THE SENSELESS
SLAUGHTER…THE SENSELESS SLAUGHTER OF OUR OWN
SOCIETY…
Suddenly the dead Roger’s foot seems to move under the blanket.
Peter’s eyes pick up the movement immediately. His hands
tighten on his weapon.
Scientist: THE DISSECTION…THE DISSECTION OF THE CORPSES CAN
BE CARRIED OUT…CARRIED OUT WITH RESPECT FOR THE
DIGNITY OF THE HUMAN BODY…
Roger’s arms seem to move, in slight twitching motions…
THE HEADS…THE HEADS AND THE …SKELETONS…
WHENEVER POSSIBLE…COULD BE IDENTIFIED AND…
AND BURIED IN CONSECRATED GROUNDS…
The commotion in the studio reaches a fever pitch.
From the movement beneath, the blanket starts to creep down off
Roger’s face. Peter stares with fascination and disbelief.
The blanket clears the blankly staring eyes…the drooling
mouth…Roger tries to sit up/ Peter’s hands click a shell into
his super-gun.
Suddenly, the corpse sits up. It stares at Peter, blankly at
first, then with purpose…it starts to move towards the Trooper
who calmly raises his weapon…
That’s pretty cool cause I didn’t see the movie yet… but its interesting to read the script first.