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Army of the Dead
by Brian Bara (Prospero761@gmail.com)

Rated: R   Genre: Horror   User Review: ****
An anti-war zombie comedy.

This screenplay is copyrighted to its author. All rights reserved. This screenplay may not be used or reproduced without the express written permission of the author.


Early morning on 7th Avenue. Trash and newspapers litter the
deserted street. The camera dollies down the street.

Abandoned cars litter the road; newspaper kiosks lie on
their sides; rotted corpses dot the sidewalks.

The camera continues down 7th, heading toward Macys. A
shopping bag blows by. From around the corner on 36th, a
zombie shuffles onto 7th and past the camera. A newspaper
blows into frame.

CU on the headline, which reads: THE DEAD WALK! GOD SAVE US

A sneakered foot stomps down on the newspaper. The camera
pulls back on the foot to reveal a living BUSINESS WOMAN in
a suit, walking toward work. She is soon joined by other
living people, all of them seemingly oblivious to the chaos
around them. It is not the usual, crowded Manhattan we are
used to, but a strange sense of ďnormalcyĒ prevails. People
step over corpses and around the trash.

A YOUNG MAN on a bicycle rides by. He is about to be
attacked by a zombie. He kicks out his foot and knocks the
zombie aside. The zombie falls to the street and gropes
ineffectually at the air, mewling pathetically. A car horn
blows. The zombie turns to look at a taxi that is barreling
toward it. The zombieís eyes widen in surprise and
confusion. The taxiís front bumper runs smack into the
zombieís head, splattering the zombie all over the road.

People on the sidewalk jump back to avoid being sprayed by
blood and brains.
The DRIVER curses in Arabic as the PASSENGER calmly reads
his newspaper.
Damn tings! Make a mess! Worse den


Somebody's got to do something to
clean up this city!
The Passenger continues to read his newspaper.

CU on the headline, which reads: ZOMBIES UNDER CONTROL?

The camera pulls back, past the Driver, through the
windshield and down the hood of the taxi. The zombie's face
has left a gory impression in the taxi's bumper, its eyes
still stuck to the metal; optic nerves flapping.


As the credits roll, a montage of images floods the screen:
Zombies digging their way out of their graves; zombies
shuffling down the street; zombies attacking people.
Newspapers headlines: IS THIS THE END? -- AMERICA UNDER
ATTACK? More images of zombies; bonfire-sized pyres; heavy
machinery pushing corpses into piles for burning; crowds of
people hunting zombies with rifles and machine guns; staked
zombies being used for target practice. More headlines:

The montage ends with a picture of a redneck hunter;
standing in front of his trophy wall, which is filled with
the usual deer and ram heads, gesturing proudly towards a
zombie head, mounted in the center.
The phone rings in a messy bedroom. From under the rumpled
covers on the bed, a hand reaches out and picks up the
receiver. There is a tattoo of a skull with a snake coiled
through it on the back of the hand.
      (Into phone)
We can hear a voice on the other end of the line, but cannot
make out the speakerís sex, or what is being said.

The covers are pushed aside to reveal TOM DAVIDSON, 35, his
hair disheveled and several daysí beard on his face.
                       TOM (cont'd)
      (Into phone)
You're kiddin me. Now?


We hear the voice again.
                       TOM (cont'd)
      (Into phone)
Okay, okay! Gimme fifteen minutes.
Tom slams the phone down and runs a hand over his face.
                       TOM (cont'd)
JEFF WRIGHT, 30ís, is cooking breakfast. At the table sit
his children. The phone rings and Jeff answers.
      (Into the phone)
We hear the same voice on the other end of the line.
      (Calling out)
Honey? It's for you...
      (Into the phone)
Just a minute, please.
Jeff sets the phone down on the table and goes back to the
stove as his wife, ABBY, 30ís, enters. The way her robe
hangs, we can see a tattoo on her shoulder of a skull with a
snake coiled through it. She gives each of the kids a kiss
and then wraps her arms around Jeff.
Morning! I think youd better take
that. It's work.
She picks up the phone, rubbing her sonís head playfully.
                       ABBY (cont'd)
      (Into the phone)
This is Doctor Wright.
We hear the voice again.


                       ABBY (cont'd)
      (Into the phone)
Tell him Iíll be there after I
have breakfast with my children.
No! I will not drop everything for
that sanctimonious schmuck! I will
be there after breakfast!
She slams the receiver into the cradle and sits at the
table, smiling, as Jeff slides an omlette onto her plate.
                       ABBY (cont'd)
      (Sitting at the
Mmmm! Smells good!
Secret Service Agent TERESA WATSON, 30ís, is jogging along
the reflecting pool. Beethovenís ďOde to JoyĒ leaks from her
headphones. As in New York, D.C. is a wreck; filled with
abandoned cars, trash and rotting corpses.

As she jogs by, a nearly skeletal hand reaches up from the
water towards her calf, which sports the same tattoo. She
ignores the hand and continues on. Her cell phone rings. She
removes the phone from her waistband and answers, still
      (Into phone)
We hear the same voice on the other end of the line.
                       TERESA (cont'd)
      (Into phone)
Yes. I need to get home and
change... I could be there in
thirty, yes.
She hangs up, returns the phone to her waistband and turns
around, jogging back the way she came.
                       TERESA (cont'd)


A neighborhood bar in the Capitol Hill district of D.C.
Even though it is morning, the bar is crowded with regulars.

SAM MAYFAIRE, 50-60, owner and bartender, is busily pulling
draughts and pouring martinis.

A hand-lettered sign above the bar reads: ďDRINK SPECIAL Ė
ZOMBIES - 2 FOR 1.Ē A desiccated zombieís head hangs below
the sign, the eyes hungrily moving back and forth over the
crowd while its jaw works as though chewing.

ROAM THESKY, 40ís, sits at the bar, nursing a drink. He is a
handsome man, who has seen his share of woe, and it shows on
his face. He sports the skull and snake tattoo on his right

A DRUNK WOMAN sitting next to Roam turns to face him.
                       DRUNK WOMAN
      (To Roam)
Now ainít that a helluva thing?
Excuse me?
                       DRUNK WOMAN
All the shit goin on in the world
these days, and some asshole
thinks itís funny to hang one of
those thingsí heads over his
fuckin bar!
That asshole happens to be a good
friend of mine.
                       DRUNK WOMAN
I could be a good friend of yours,
She places her hand suggestively on Roam's thigh. Roam
ignores her and calls out to Sam.


Hey, Sam! The lady here doesn't
like your sign!
Sam ambles over, a look of mock astonishment on his face.
What!?! Which one?
The one I made.
The Drunk Woman removes her hand from Roamís thigh.
                       ROAM (cont'd)
      (To Drunk Woman)
Was it something I said?
The Drunk Woman angrily gets off her stool, balancing her
herself on the bar, but still having trouble. She finally
steadies herself and looks at Roam.
                       DRUNK WOMAN
      (To Roam)
You are one sick fuck, you know
that? One... sick... fuck!
She staggers away, muttering, as Roam and Sam laugh.

The phone rings and Sam answers.
      (Into phone)
Mayfaire Bar and Grille. Uh...
lemme see...
Sam presses the hold button and looks at Roam.
                       SAM (cont'd)
      (To Roam)
It's for you.
I'm not here.
Roam, they know you're here.
Roam holds out his hand and Sam gives him the receiver.


                       ROAM (cont'd)
      (Into phone)
This better be good.
We hear the same, unintelligible voice.
                       ROAM (cont'd)
      (Into phone)
And this concerns me, how? I see.
No, not all. Iíll think about your
He hands the phone back to Sam who replaces it under the
How long, you think?
What? Before they get here?
Fifteen minutes, tops,
Sam pours a shot and Roam downs it.
                       ROAM (cont'd)
SUBTITLE: The Pentagon
Tom, showered and shaved, but still looking disheveled,
walks through a metal detector, setting it off. He wears a
worn pair of wrinkled khakis, a tee-shirt and a denim
jacket. A red-bordered ID badge hangs from a lanyard around
his neck.
A MARINE SENTRY stops him.
Sir, can you empty your pockets
and step through again?
Youíre new here, arenít you?
Second day here, Sir.


Because youíre new, Iíll let you
scan me, but I have to tell you,
every other guard in this building
knows I have a steel rod in my
right femur. I couldnít walk
without it.
Sorry to hear that, Sir.
You know how I got that steel rod?
Tom stands akimbo as the Sentry scans him with the wand.
      (Scanning Tom
Iím sure I donít, Sir.
Operation Iraqi Freedom. I saw
some very ugly things in Iraq,
before a Russian-made grenade
shattered my leg.
The Sentry scans Tomís right shin and it beeps. He frisks
Tomís leg.
Can you roll up your pant leg,
please, Sir?
Tom bends over and his ID card hangs right in the bent-over
Sentryís face. The Sentryís eyes widen. The Sentry stands
and salutes immediately.
Sir, I am so sorry. You go right
through, Sir.
      (Returning the
Fine job, Marine. Iíll make sure
the General hears about your
attention to procedure.


Sir, thank you, Sir!
Tom smiles and continues down the hall to an elevator. He
presses the call button and then looks back to see the
Marine still standing at attention in full salute.
At ease, son.
Tom smiles again as the Marine relaxes.

The elevator door opens to reveal Teresa standing inside.
They smile at one another out of politeness, rather than
recognition. She wears a white lab coat over a blouse and
pants, along with a red-bordered ID card.


Tom steps in and the door closes. They ride in silence,
secretly admiring each other.

The doors open to reveal Abby. She also wears a red-bordered
badge. Teresa and Tom make room for her and she gets on the

Another moment of silence as we hear a horrible Muzak
rendition of a popular song. Tom hums along as the two women
look at each other, rolling their eyes. The doors open again
to reveal a bustling, stainless steel lab.
Scientists in lab coats fill several work stations, each
involved in a different project. Some have complete zombies
on their tables; others only zombie parts. Still others are
working strictly with chemicals.

DOCTOR FRANKLIN OLAF, 60ís, stands watching over it all. He
sees the three step off the elevator and goes to them.
What took you so long?
Unsure as to who he is addressing, the three stand mute.
                       OLAF (cont'd)
And whereís Thesky? Whereís


Whoís Thesky?
No time for that. Introductions
later. Come, come. The General is
anxious to see you. Anxious to see
Olaf does a precision about face and walks away. The three
look at one another and shrugging, follow Olaf. As they pass
by the work stations, they sneak peeks at each project.

On the first table, a zombie arm is hooked up to several
electrodes. A scientist throws a switch and the hand curls
into a fist.

On the next table, a partially dissected zombie writhes
under restraints. Its stomach has been opened up and it is
being force-fed pieces of chicken. The scientists ooh-and-ah
as a piece of chicken falls into the stomach from the

On the next table, a zombie sits up, its head opened and its
brain removed. All of its teeth have been pulled. Wires lead
from the brain, which sits in a jar of fluid on the table,
to the back of the zombieís neck. A scientist adds some
green liquid to the jar and the zombie begins to move.

Olaf has led them to a huge door. He places his ID badge
into a slot in the wall. A small door opens above the slot,
to reveal a retinal scanner. Olaf leans in to be scanned and
the big door opens.
                       OLAF (cont'd)
This way, this way.
Tom turns to look back and sees the zombie arm now
strangling a scientist, as others attempt to pry it off.
Olaf leads them in, and opens a cabinet which is recessed
into the wall. He pulls out dark goggles, handing them out
as the door slides shut behind them.
Put them on, put them on.
They put on the goggles. An automated voice is heard.


Five seconds to decon sequencing.
Four... three... two... Initiating
decon sequencing.
The lights grow very bright, then quickly change from white
to red to blue and back to white, before returning to
                       VOICE (cont'd)
Decon sequence Alpha complete.
Initiating decon sequence Beta.
Sprinklers open in the walls and ceiling, spraying them with
a fine, green mist.
                       VOICE (cont'd)
Decon sequence Beta complete.
Initiating decon sequences Gamma
through Omega-Alpha-Alpha.
The lights brighten again, this time a deep amber. A wind
blows through room, drying them almost instantly. The lights
quickly change color several more times.
                       VOICE (cont'd)
Decon sequencing complete. Thank
you for your patience. Have a
very pleasant day.
A door slides open in the opposite wall, and Olaf leads them
Come, come. Leave the goggles on
the table. On the table.
Looking like a cross between a medieval torture chamber and
the set for any number of "Frankenstein" movies, we are now
in Olaf's private lab. Tubing; wires; generators; Tesla
coils; test-tubes; Bunsen burners; tanks and beakers of
mysterious liquids; cabinets of chemicals and drugs;
surgical equipment and even several high-tech laser
generators fill the room. Standing amidst this mad-
scientist's lair, his back to the camera, is GENERAL


      (To McCallum)
Theyíre here. Theyíre here.
McCallum does not turn to look at Olaf.
There are only three of them.
I know, General. Iím sorry.
Have they sent the car for Thesky,
If those were your orders, Iím
sure they were carried outÖ sure
they were carried out.
I believe some introductions are
in order, Doctor Olaf
Of course. Of course. You three
know General McCallum, I assume.
All too well.
Sadly, yes.
Mac, Iím telling you right now,
if you ruin one more family
McCallum turns to face us. His uniform is decorated with
every conceivable honor. His chiseled face is weathered and
battle-scarred; his eyes piercing. He is a man who literally
knows no fear.

The muscles in his jaw work as he tries to create a pleasant
expression. After some effort, he manages a sardonic smile,
as grim and gruesome as it is phony.


Relax, Abby. Let me introduce you
to the rest of the team. Captain
Tom Davidson, US Marine Corps,
retired; decorated war veteran and
Special Ops Officer. Agent Teresa
Watson, Secret Service; the first
woman and the first African
American to protect a U.S.
President; Security specialist.
Doctor Abigail Wright, Ph.D.;
immunologist and infectious
diseases specialist.
The door slides open and Roam, led by two Marines, staggers
into the room. The Marines release him and exit.
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
Special Agent Thesky. How nice
of you to join us. You're just
in time. This is Special Agent
Roam Thesky, FBI. Weapons expert;
psychological profiler; survival
expert and...
This isnít going to work, Mac.
Save your prognostications,
Thesky. Iíve heard them before.
Mac, what exactly are we all
doing here?
The message said it was a code
red emergency.
And so it is. As you know, the,
um... recent events have been re-
stricted to North America, with
similar, but much smaller out-
breaks in Australia, England and
Japan. I even heard of an incident
in the Galapagos. Our intelligence
points toward a biological agent,


                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
most likely engineered in the
Middle East.
Are you trying to tell us...?
This zombie plague was an act of
war, plain and simple. Bio-terror-
ism at itís worst.
Do we know who... I mean what
Seems this one was a concerted
effort. Several anti-American ex-
tremist Muslim groups, working
with the governments of several,
anti-American, extremist Muslim
countries. They call it ďThe Blood
of Allah.Ē
So itís definitely biological?
Doctor Olaf?
Itís biochemical, actually. A
mutated virus, chemically enhanced
in some way. The virus is what
makes them move; makes them feed.
The virus needs the nourishment.
The host simply provides the food
for the virus. Simply provides the
the food.
So, if this virus is whatís ani-
mating the corpses, why does
destroying the brain kill them?
Youíre not killing them; theyíre
already dead. The virus is just
using the brain to control motor


                       OLAF (cont'd)
functions; mobility, chewing,
digestion. There is nothing left
of the personality or memory. The
virus doesnít seem to be able to
reactivate those parts of the
brain. And honestly, it would be
self-detrimental, if it did.
Zombies with memories would have
a natural aversion to eating their
own children.
Look, all of these academics are
just fascinating. But what do
they have to do with the four of
We have been dealt a far worse
blow than any other enemy has
been able to inflict up till now.
They think we are defenseless
and will be moving in to finish
what the zombies didnít.
I still don't see...
We have to strike back, hard.
And we have to strike back, now.
How? Half the military is gone.
Hell, more than half the popula-
tion is gone.
Half the living populationÖ
You arenít suggesting...?
      (To Olaf)


Olaf takes a remote from his pocket and points it at the far
wall, part of which slides open to reveal a zombie behind a
thick pane of plexi-glass. It looks at them, dumbly.
This is Doctor Munroe. He was
on the team right at the begin-
ning, before we knew very much
at all. He was bitten by a test
subject. Normally, after such
an event, victims are euthanized
before turning. Munroe insisted
he be used for research. He has
not left that cell since being
bitten nine weeks ago.
We all know the zombies prefer hu-
man flesh, but they'll eat almost
anything living; rats, insects,
cats and dogs... I even saw about
ten of 'em take down a horse in
Central Park. The only thing they
won't eat is dead flesh. That's
why they don't eat each other.
Munroe here, has been feeding on
chickens and stray dogs.
The MUNROE zombie shuffles away from the window,
Thatís weird. Iíve never seen one
do that, before.
Do what?
Turn away from food.
What do you mean?
Have you ever seen them trying to
get at people through a window or
a glass door? Theyíll pound until
the glass breaks or the food moves


Youíre invisible to it.
It's not sight that drives them.
At first we thought it was, but
even the ones with no eyes at all
can find prey. Then we thought it
was smell, but the olfactory cen-
ters aren't switched on, either.
Nor were any of the senses in any
real way. Then we realized it was
the virus itself. It sends out
electrochemical signals and waits
for an answer. Depending on the
answer, it directs the zombie to
attack or ignore. We've managed to
synthesize the 'ignore' answer.
You were all sprayed with it in
the decon room. Dr. Munroe thinks
we're all dead.
Iím still not sure I understand
exactly whatís going on hereÖ
Itís simple, Tom. I give you our
latest retaliatory weapon.
McCallum nods and Olaf presses another button on the remote.
The wall opens further, revealing a gigantic chamber, filled
with hundreds of zombies.

Tom, Teresa and Abby gasp at the implication. Roam simply
shakes his head, grinning.
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
This amuses you, Thesky?
This morning, a drunken skank at
the Mayfaire had the balls to call
me a Ďsick fuck!í I wish she was
here right now.


McCallum moves with surprising speed and grabs Roam by the
collar, pulling him up so that they are nearly nose-to-nose.
This is deadly serious, Thesky.
If the President himself hadnít
insisted, you wouldnít be within
a thousand miles of this facility.
McCallum realizes the others are watching, shocked by his
sudden aggression. He clears his throat, takes a breath and
releases Roam, whose expression hasnít changed throughout.
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
I believe thatís all for now.
Doctor Olaf, will you take our
guests to their accommodations?
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
By order of the President of
the United States of America,
you are hereby drafted into
active service.
They all start yelling at once, furious and outraged.
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
They all stop, staring at him with pure hate in their eyes.
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
You will be allowed one phone call
to whomever you wish. You may only
say that you are working on a
highly classified assignment, at
the direct request of the Presi-
dent. Your calls will be monitor-
ed and will be cut short if any
mention is made as to the nature
or location of this assignment.
These are desperate times, my
friends. And you know what desper-
ate times call for.
Olaf steps up, nervously.


Come, come. This way. This way
He opens a door and goes through, beckoning them on.

Slowly, still glaring at McCallum, they follow Olaf.
SUBTITLE: New Orleans, LA
Much like Manhattan, New Orleans is vandalized, looted and
filled with trash and derelict cars. A Dixieland Band is
playing for a mass funeral at which a huge crowd has
gathered. A gigantic bonfire has been built in the center of
the street, piled with furniture, logs, old doors, scrap
lumber, oily rags and dozens of corpses. The band is playing
ďWhen the Saints Go Marching In.Ē Several men stand nearby
with torches. The song ends and a PREACHER gets up before
the crowd.
Dearly beloved! I know some of you
fear that Judgment Day has come
upon us. I know you fear the bite
of the Undead. And I know you fear
the coming of Satan, as much as I
do! But have faith, Brothers and
Sisters! Have faith, and pray to
the Lord for the strength to see
you through! He saw us through
Katrina and He will see us through
this. For He has promised that all
who believe in Him shall be saved,
and live in the glories of Heaven
forever and ever! Amen!
There are a few shouts of ďAmen!Ē from the crowd.
                       PREACHER (cont'd)
We gather today, not to mourn the
dead, but to celebrate their
lives! Their pain is over. Their
reward has come. They rest easy
in the bosom of Jesus and sleep
soundly in the cradle of Abraham!
Shouts of ďAmen!Ē and ďHallelujah!Ē from the crowd.


                       PREACHER (cont'd)
Now I know some of you would
rather see your loved ones buried
properly, in the Christian way.
But believe me, my Brothers and
Sisters, it is better their shells
burn in the fires of the Earth,
than their souls in the fires of
The Preacher steps down amid more cries of "Amen!" and the
band strikes up a rousing hymn.

Some of the bodies on the bonfire have begun to stir, and
people are getting anxious. The men are about to step in
with their torches when a helicopter flies in, blinding them
with light.

The PILOT speaks to the crowd through a PA.
      (Over P.A.))
Step away from the bodies! Do not,
I repeat... do not light that
Suddenly, the area is ablaze with light, as dozens of
military vehicles surround the crowd. Armed soldiers in
biohazard suits get out and begin clearing away the crowd.
Don't panic! Stay clam, Children!
Stay calm!
People are, in fact, beginning to panic.

A woman screams as she sees a zombie rise up from the
woodpile and begin to stagger toward the crowd.

One of the torchbearers sees this and runs after the zombie,
setting it on fire.

Seeing this, the helicopter fires on both man and zombie.

Full scale panic erupts and the crowd surges forward, past
and under the trucks, hitting, climbing and clawing their
way through. As more and more zombies rise, some people are
attacked and bitten. Many are shot by the soldiers, who are
careful not to shoot them in their heads. Others are
trampled beneath their neighborsí feet.

Eventually, all civilians are gone or dead and the soldiers


begin rounding up the zombies into the backs of the trucks.

Lastly, they pile all of the most recent victimsí bodies
into a dump truck. They pull out, leaving only the
helicopterís search light, which then moves on as well.
A plain, cinderblock room with a sink, a bed, a nightstand
and a mirror. A white metal clothes rack stands in one
corner, hung with a Marine Captain's uniform, and several
lab coats. Tom sits on the bed in a t-shirt and boxer
shorts, reading "Frankenstein." A long, dark scar runs down
his right shin & calf. There is a knock at the door.
Who is it?
      (Through the door)
It's me. Roam.
Come in...
Roam enters, sees what Tom is reading and laughs.
What's so funny?
Hey, if you don't have a sense of
Tom realizes that Roam is talking about the book.
Oh... this. Yeah. I sort of made a
promise to myself to read as many
of the classics as I could before
I died. Long before any of...
well,this. It just happens this is
what I had just started when...
Itís okay. I didnít come in to
discuss the merits of Gothic
horror as literature.


I didnít think you had, but Iím
still disappointed.
We're meeting in the common room
in ten minutes.
Ooh... should I bring my telescope
that sees around corners and my
secret decoder ring?
Look, come or not. I donít really
care. Ten minutes.
Roam leaves and Tom goes back to his book. After a moment,
Tom sighs, sets the book down and sits up to pull on his
Very plain, institutional furniture. A cheap area rug. TV
and radio. A Ping-Pong table and a pool table.

Teresa and Abby are seated on the sofa, watching a cable
news channel.

There are no extra graphics, no scrolling tickertape, no
headline crawls. Just an anchor in a newsroom, reporting the
      (On TV)
President Williams today said that
the current zombie crisis is over
and we must now look toward the
future, and not dwell on recent
The picture changes to show PRESIDENT WILLIAMS, 50ís, in the
White House Press Room, addressing a half-empty room.
      (On TV)
Things seem to be getting back to
normal. In most of the big cities,
they are more of a nuisance, than


                       WILLIAMS (cont'd)
anything. The situation is fully
under control.
      (On TV)
Meanwhile, reports of zombie
attacks continue to come in. In
some rural communitiesÖ
The common room door opens and Roam enters.
      (To Teresa)
Turn that shit off.
Teresa points the remote and mutes the TV.
      (To Roam)
Did he say he was coming?
No, but he will.
Oh, thatís right. Youíre the
psychic. So why didnít you see
all this coming and take off?
Doesnít work that way. Canít
see my own future. Only othersí.
Really? And whatís mine?
Youíre getting out of here.
In fact, you all are.
Tom arrives and stands in the open doorway.
Look, Thesky...


      (Turning to Tom)
No, Tom. You look. How many of
them were in that room? I couldnít
count them, could you? And how
many more rooms do you think there
are down here, just like it? And
not just here. Hangars and sta-
diums are the perfect places to
store thousands of bodies. Heís
got a horrible weapon out there
and heís going to unleash it on
millions more innocent people.
Of course! Now I know why your
name was so familiar. We used to
make jokes about you at the
office. Youíre Agent X.
Agent X?
      (To Abby)
You know, for ďThe X-Files?Ē Thes-
ky was the FBIís psychic conspir-
acy guy. They just about laughed
him out of the Bureau.
      (To Roam)
Look, even if McCallum is planning
on sending zombies to Iraq, what
does he want with the four of us?
I donít want to know and I donít
plan on staying long enough to
find out. What I do know, is this
has nothing to do with extremist
Muslims. This is some very black
Juju we brought on ourselves.
What are you talking about?
You know where the very first
attack was? Patient Zero? An
underground lab in the Mojave
desert, twelve weeks ago. The
virus was synthesized right in our


                       ROAM (cont'd)
own goddamn back yard.
I suppose you 'saw' this happen?
Not exactly. I saw something... I
felt as though something had...
escaped. Something bad. An hour
later I got a call from a friend
of mine, who happened to work in
said laboratory. He said exactly
five words to me: ďDear God,
please forgive us.Ē Then I heard
a gunshot and a thud
Abby and Teresa donít know what to say to this.
McCallum was responsible for
ordering the fucking thing in the
first place. The plan all along
was to dump it on the Middle East
and let them all destroy each
other. It sort of backfired.
No... you think?
McCallum had access to all the
research done in the Mojave.
Thatís how they knew about the EC
signal. Now that heís got zombies,
McCallum doesnít need to spray
anyone. He can just blame the evil
Muslims and retaliate. We, my
friends, are the proverbial ďPlan
Sure. Makes sense. Special Ops,
Security, Biochemistry...


      (Indicating Roam)
And why is HE here?
They were able to trace my
friendís call. They know that I
Then why not just kill you and be
done with it?
Oh, they arenít going to let me
live. They arenít going to let
any of us live. Whatever McCallum
has planned, is a hell of a lot
worse than just dumping zombies
on Baghdad. And heís not about to
let anyone know what it is. Weíre
just expendable necessities.
Look, Iíll agree, dropping zombies
on those people, is a heinous
idea. But Iíve never met you in my
life. Iíve never met any of you
people. Why should I trust you?
You could be nuts. Or you could be
trying to convince us to help you
escape just because you donít want
to be here.
You forgot to mention that I could
be telling the truth...
The margin for error seems awfully
low, Thesky. You have a reputation
as a conspiracy, um... enthusiast.
True, we are basically being held
against our will, but if we are
at war...
It's a cover-up, plain and simple.
The US Government doesn't make
mistakes. The Muslim nations have
been a source of grief for centur-
ies. Why not take care of them all


                       ROAM (cont'd)
and forever, in one easy opera-
tion? Hell, while we're at it,
North Korea's been a pain in the
ass the last few years. And
China... well, we all know the
Chinese agenda. Look, we can go
'round in circles like this all
night. I am telling you the truth.
Fine. Letís assume you are tell-
ing the truth. What do you pro-
pose we do about it?
This is what I was thinking...
They gather around Roam as the scene fades to black.
Williams sits behind the desk, facing the camera. He is very
I want to know what happened in
New Orleans, Mac.
McCallum sits opposite, stiff-shouldered and square-jawed.
We acquired over six dozen new
recruits, Sir.
Itís what happened during the
acquisition of those ďrecruits,Ē
that Iím interested in, Mac.
Unavoidable collateral damage.
Collateral damage?!? I hardly call
the deaths of over thirty of our
own citizens, collateral damage!


There was a riot, Sir. People
Of course they panicked! You
barged right into a funeral and
scared the shit out of them, for
Christís sake! Iíd say people have
had enough of being scared, these
days, Mac. They donít need to be
afraid of their own goddamn
government! You know how I feel
about this whole project, Mac.
Your boys fuck up again, and Iím
shutting you down. For good.
It wonít happen again, Sir.
See that it doesnít.
Williams goes back to the stack of papers in front of him.
                       WILLIAMS (cont'd)
      (Not looking up)
Thatís all, General
McCallum stands and the camera moves in to a CU of his face
as his jaw becomes even tighter and we hear the sound of his
teeth grinding.
SUBTITLE: Los Angeles, CA
A very different crowd has gathered here, than in New
Orleans. Street hoods, mostly; whatís left of the gangs, a
few whores, the working poor.

A pounding drum beat fills the air. It is hot; the crowd is
drunk, sweaty and loud. Money changes hands with lightening

They stand around a large ring that has been chalked off in
the intersection. In the center of the ring is a zombie with
a chain around its neck, pegged to the ground. The zombieís
reach does not extend beyond the circle. The
zombie snarls viciously and swipes at the crowd.


The crowd begins to part from the back and a man enters,
leading a snarling Doberman on a leash. A cheer goes up and
money flies again.

The drums build to a crescendo and then stop as a spotlight
illuminates DIEGO DEL FUEGO, standing in a cherry-picker
basket, above the crowd. Diego is in his late 20ís, a street
punk who had an idea and is now making money hand-over-fist
as a 'Zombie Baiting' promoter. The crowd cheers for him and
he raises his arms for silence.
Yaíll know why weíre here! Yaíll
know what you wanna see! Yaíll
know the rules. Ainít any. Fight
to the end; winner take all.
Tonightís first match is about to
start, so finish placin your bets.
In the ring this evening, eight
time champion, The Masticator!
CU on the zombie, snarling and drooling. The crowd boos,
                       DIEGO (cont'd)
And on the rope, a new-comer to
the pit, Sir Cyrus Nipsalot; a
Dobie with an attitude and the
muscle to back it up!
CU on the Doberman, snarling and drooling. The crowd cheers,
                       DIEGO (con't)
All betting is over for match
numbah one. All bets are finished.
On my signal...
Diego produces a red silk hankie and raises it out over the
                       DIEGO (cont'd)
Three... two... one... let the
games begin!
Diego drops the hankie and the spotlight follows it down. As
soon as it hits the ground, the man holding the dog lets go
and the Doberman leaps for the zombie, who in turn, is
trying to eat the dog. The crowd goes insane.


Diego enters, wiping sweat from his brow. Outside, we can
hear the crowd cheering as the fight continues.

Diego goes to a small refrigerator and removes a beer. He
takes the beer to the table and opens a small cash box that
is sitting on the table. It is filled with money. He reaches
into his pocket and pulls out a wad of bills and drops it
into the box. He sits down at the table and drinks,

Suddenly, the door bursts open. Diego sits up, reaching for
a gun under the table, until he sees that it is an armored
SOLDIER at the door, pointing a semi-automatic rifle at his
head. Diego slowly raises his hands and puts them on top of
his head.
                       SOLDIER #1
You just stay put now.
      (Calling outside)
In here, Sir!
What the fuck is this?
The Soldier moves into the trailer, keeping the gun pointed
at Diego.

MAJOR ADAM GRANT enters the trailer. He is in his 40ís; a
career military man who will follow orders to the death, no
matter how much he disagrees.
      (To Soldier)
I donít think thereís any need
for that, son. Stand down.
                       SOLDIER #1
      (Standing down)
Sir, yes Sir!
      (To Diego)
Diego del Fuego? AKA Diego


Who wants to know?
Major Adam Grant, U.S. Army.
I assume you are Mr. del Fuego?
I could be...
Mr. del Fuego, I am about to say
something you never thought you
would hear...
Diego relaxes, lowering his hands
I don't know, Major. I heard a
lotta shit in my life.
Diego del Fuego, your country
needs you.
Diego stares for a moment and then bursts into hysterical
                       GRANT (cont'd)
Thereís nothing funny about
this, Mr. del Fuego.
You have no idea how funny it is,
man. No fuckin idea!
Seems youíve been an enterprising
young man, Mr. del Fuego. Tell me,
do you know the penalty for
abusing a corpse in the state of
Can't say as I do, but since I'm
not abusing any corpses...


Oh, but technically, you are, Mr.
del Fuego. Technically, you are
abusing the hell out of about
sixty corpses. Not to mention
illegal gambling and unlawful
gathering. Iím sure there are a
few other things we can find to
charge you with.
Outside, we hear a squealing yelp and a cheer from the
                       GRANT (cont'd)
Sounds like the house won.
House always wins.
This time, Mr. del Fuego, Iím the
What the hell is that supposed to
It means that no matter what you
say or do, I still win. I want
your... stable.
Your zombies. Hand them over and
no charges will be filed.
You kiddiní me or somethiní?
Do I look like Iím kidding, Mr.
del Fuego?
What the hell are you gonna do
with Ďem?


Why, destroy them, of course.
Abby and Olaf stand before a table filled with scientific
equipment. Abby is peering into a microscope.

CU on the slide at which she is looking. We see a voracious
virus with what appears to be hooks, capturing cells and
devouring them at an alarming rate.

We return to the lab as Abby turns to Olaf.
This is monstrous. Iíve never seen
anything like it.
Its appetite is enormous.
Enormous. Yet, it can live for
weeks without food, though
starvation seems to be the only
sure way to kill it.
Doctor Olaf, I heard a... a
Is it possible that this virus
didnít come from the Middle East?
I mean, it seems awfully sophisti-
cated, given the level of tech-
nology in the region.
Russian scientists, geniuses who
lost their jobs when the Soviet
Union collapsed. They sold out
and went for the money that people
like bin Laden had to spend. Work-
ing for the corrupt and unscrupu-
lous all those years, tends to
make one corrupt and unscrupulous.


Why exactly am I here, Doctor?
Whatís my role in McCallumís plan?
Weíre still looking for a way to
kill it. A vaccine or an anti-
viral of some kind. We certainly
donít want the virus to spread to
Europe or Asia. You are the best
in your field, Doctor Wright. The
best in your field.
You mean, the best left alive,
donít you?
I wouldnít be so sure of that.
Most of the people still alive
are scientists and artists.
Maybe it's time for the smart
people to run the country, in-
stead of the brutes...
Abby looks at him, puzzled by this remark, but he has
already moved on.
                       OLAF (cont'd)
Come, come. Much still to
see. Much to see.
He leads her away as the scene X-fades to:
Teresa, Tom and Roam are navigating a fake town, using live
ammo to shoot at cardboard zombies which pop up randomly,
mixed with cardboard people. They wear helmets and Kevlar
vests and carry an assortment of automatic and semi-
automatic pistols and rifles, as well as grenades and ammo
belts. Their helmets are equipped with communications

A cardboard zombie and a cardboard Osama bin Laden pop up in
front of Roam. He looks; shoots bin Laden and then the



Teresa is cautiously rounding a corner, gun held up, close
to her face. She lowers the gun and swings herself around
the corner. A cardboard zombie, devouring a cardboard old
lady, pops up in front of her. She shoots both of them in
the head and sidles past.

Tom is crawling on his belly, peering around another corner.
A cardboard zombie pops up from the manhole in front of him.
He looks up and shoots it in the head. A buzzer sounds and
swirling yellow lights begin to spin on the corners of the

McCallum's voice comes over the P.A.
                       MCCALLUM (O.S.)
Well played. Come back and weíll
analyze your scores.
Tom stands and walks to the center of the ďtown,Ē where he
meets Roam and Teresa.
Is he fucking kidding with this
Sadly, I donít think so.
He wants to make sure we arenít
too ready.
This isnít training. Itís a test.
He wants to know how good we are.
Why? He isnít planning on sending
us into the field, is he?
I told you, he doesnít plan for us
to live. If the zombies or Al
Quaida donít get us, his marksmen
Roam moves ahead of them.


Teresa and Tom look at one another. Teresa spins her finger
around her ear, grinning. Tom smiles and nods in agreement.

McCallum greets them at the ďtown limits.Ē
Iíll tell you right now, boys,
Agent Watson scored the highest,
hands down.
Damned right, I did.
I expected nothing less. Come. I
want you to meet the last member
of the team.
McCallum turns and leads the way. Tom turns to Teresa.
Wonder who that is? Hmmm. Maybe
Roam can tell us.
Maybe itís Spider-Man.
Roam continues to follow McCallum as Tom gives Roam the
finger behind his back.
SUBTITLE: Philadelphia, PA

Like everywhere else, Philly is a disaster. Sanitation crews
are working overtime in an attempt to clean the streets.

Several trucks roam up and down a nearly deserted
Market Street, their crews literally shoveling garbage into
the backs of the trucks with snow shovels.

The camera moves in on MANUEL and LAMONT, two sanitation
workers who are none-too-happy about pulling this particular

They are shoveling piles of trash and human body parts into


the back of their truck. They wear surgical masks, but still
wrinkle their brows in distaste at the work they are doing.
Yo Lamont, I hate dis shit! When
we gonna get back to jusí pickiní
up trash?
Longís dey pay me, I donít care
what we pickiní up.
Yeah, man, but look at dis shit!
You canít tell me dis doní bother
you. Fuck, man! We pickiní up
fuckiní body parts!
Way I see it, better we pickiní
dem up, den thíother way rouní.
They shovel some more. A headless, limbless torso tumbles
out of the pile, spilling rotted intestines everywhere.
Manuel jumps back, while Lamont keeps shoveling.
Damn! You see dat? All over my new
damn boots!
What díyou care? Dem boots was
lifted, anyway.
Dey still new!
Manuel sinks his shovel into the debris and finds a piece of
newspaper to wipe his boots, uncovering an AMISH ZOMBIE,
which he doesnít see.

As Manuel is wiping his boots, the Amish Zombie reaches up,
grabs hold of his ankle and bites a huge chunk out of his
calf. Manuel screams and Lamont looks.
Ah, fuck! Iím bit! Help me, man!
Iím fuckiní bit!


Manuel falls to his knees, crying and praying in Spanish as
the Amish zombie drags itself off the pile and crawls toward
him, hungry for more. Lamont looks around and sees no one.
                       MANUEL (CONT'D)
Lamont, dude! Fuck! Help me!
Manuel looks up at Lamont with tears in his eyes. He still
hasnít noticed that the Amish Zombie has now dragged itself
up onto his back. He realizes, however, what Lamont is about
to do.
                       MANUEL (cont'd)
Oh... no... no... por favor! Madre
de Dios!
Lamont lifts the shovel blade high above his head.
Datís too bad, too. I liked you,
Just as the zombie is about to chomp down on Manuelís head,
Lamont swings the shovel, neatly decapitating both Manuel
and the Amish Zombie. Blood splatters Lamontís boots and
      (Shaking his head)
Shit! Dey doní pay me near Ďnough!
The lab is pristine, filled with the latest technology, much
of which is still covered in plastic. Olaf is showing Abby
And this, Dr Wright, is your lab.
Impressive. But I still donít know
what Iím supposed to be doing on
this project, Dr Olaf.
Oh my. Oh my! I suppose I was so
excited to have you here, I
completely forgot. Completely
forgot. You, Dr Wright, will
be working on something no one


                       OLAF (cont'd)
else has tried. No one else!
And that would be...?
Why, your specialty, of course. A
I see. And what happens if, in
creating this vaccine, we make
something even worse?
Olaf looks at her, cocking his head like a confused dog.
                       ABBY (cont'd)
Maybe this was supposed to happen,
Doctor Olaf. Maybe itís the
insectsí turn. I bet the cock-
roaches and the ants wonít screw
things up half as badly as we did.
As bad as we are, Dr Wright; as
horrible and stupid and destruc-
tive and self-serving as mankind
is; there are still things worth
saving. Still things worth saving.
Like what?
Art. Music. Science.
Seems to me, science got us in
this mess in the first place.
Thatís because the scientists
werenít running the science.
The military ran the science.
Brutes and politicians with on-
ly power and prestige on their
minds. Scientists, true scien-
tists, want only to improve life,
not destroy it; not to destroy


Thatís a rather liberal point of
view for a scientist who contin-
ues to be in the employ of the
military, Doctor Olaf.
And thatís a rather cynical re-
sponse from a mother of two,
Doctor Wright. This, all this,
is just a means to an end.
McCallum, the labs, the virus.
Just another challenge for us
to take on and conquer.
Forgive me for saying this, but
you sound like McCallum. Do you
honestly think I want my children
to grow up in a world like this?
Using zombies to wage war... The
whole thing leaves a very bad
taste in mouth.
And it never goes away. It never
goes away. Unless we do something
about it.
What are you saying?
Just that, sometimes, the end
really does justify the means.
A TV camera faces the Presidentís desk. Williams sits behind
the desk, a napkin tucked in around his collar as a makeup
person, TRISH, finishes his makeup. The STAGE MANAGER
                       STAGE MANAGER
Thirty seconds, Mr. President.


Thank you, Wally. All done,
      (Removing the
All done, sir.
Trish and the Stage Manager move out of frame.

Williams adjusts his tie, checks his lapel, smoothes his
hair with his hand and clears his throat several times.

Off screen, we hear the Stage Manager counting down.
                       STAGE MANAGER (O.S.)
In five... four... three... two...
CU on Williams.
My fellow Americans. The past ten
weeks have been trying ones for
our great nation. And the weeks
ahead will certainly prove no less
so. America has weathered plagues
and droughts; war and pestilence;
even floods and famines. Today, as
we face the rebuilding of our
great nation, I am saddened to
announce that this most recent
disaster, this plague of...
zombies, is the direct result of a
bio-terror attack by our enemies
to the East. Military Intelligence
reports indicate that a coalition
of extremist Eastern terror
groups, in conjunction with the
governments of four separate
Eastern nations, have conspired to
unleash a biological weapon of
mass destruction on our soil.
A family is gathered around their television, anxiously
watching Williamsí speech.

As they watch, a ZOMBIE CHILD loiters outside, leering


hungrily in their window.
CU of Williams.
The Joint Chiefs, my Cabinet mem-
bers and both Houses all agree;
our retaliation must be swift and
equally as merciless as the
original attack was.
The crowd has grown silent, watching Williams on the TV
mounted behind the bar. Sam stands, wiping a glass and
shaking his head, sadly.
CU on Williams.
At eight AM, Eastern Standard
Time, the first planes left U.S.
bases to air-drop our retaliation;
the very weapon with which they
thought to bring us to our knees.
Make no mistake, this plague was
designed to destroy every man,
woman and child on U.S. soil.
And so it shall be for them. The
citizens of the United States have
been too long the victims of
terror at the hands of these
criminals. It is time to end the
threat once and for all. Stay
strong, America. We have weathered
enemies in the past, and pre-
vailed. And so we shall, now. Rest
assured that your Government is
still in control and still in the
business of protecting its people.
Good after-noon, and may God bless


A door slides open in the wall and McCallum enters, followed
by Roam, Teresa and Tom.
Teresa clears her throat, loudly. McCallum looks and smiles
at her.
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
...and lady... I'd like you to
meet Tami.
The camera pans around the room and stops on the only thing
in the room: a large, metallic sphere, about ten feet in
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
Good afternoon, Tami.
There is a series of whirs, clicks and beeps as the sphere
opens up, revealing that it is actually a multi-limbed
robot. Basically humanoid in shape, TAMI has six arms and
four legs. Her head is shaped like a bicycle helmet,
tapering at the back to fit inside the sphere she becomes
when inactive. Across her right shoulder is an insignia of a
sphere, with a stylized stencil which reads: "T*A*M*I." Her
pointed face is vaguely humanoid, with no nose or mouth. Her
LCD eyes glow green and flash as she speaks in a very human
female voice.
Good afternoon, General. What can
I do for you, today?
Iíd like you to meet the people
youíll be working with.
You mean, 'the people with whom I
will be working.'
Roam laughs.
I wouldnít let my wife correct me
like that. With Tami, I have no
choice. Perfect English; Farsi;
Arabic; French; Italian; German;
Mandarin; Korean; Japanese;


                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
Russian and every other goddamned
language on the planet, are
programmed in.
Whatís the acronym?
Tactical Armored Mechanical
Infantry: TAMI. Pleased to meet
you, Agent Watson.
What? How did it know...?
All of your photos and profiles
have been downloaded into my
memory; as well as fingerprints,
retinal scans and DNA samples.
DNA!? Why? What for?
I need to be able to distinguish
team members from the enemy and
each other, Captain Davidson.
Thatís some piece of hardware you
got there, Mac. Bet she cost a
bundle. Or three.
      (Ignoring Roam)
Tami, are you up for a demon-
You know I never shut down,
General. I am, as you put it,
always up, for anything
Tami, arm.


TAMI takes a step back and assumes a menacing pose. Each of
her six arms becomes a weapon: two machine guns; a
flame-thrower; a high-speed saw blade; a grenade launcher
and a heavily-toothed sword. Her feet clamp into the
concrete floor, cracking it as she anchors herself, while
standing up to her full height of eight feet. The remainder
of the sphere contracts itself around her front, creating a
curved shield over her mother board.
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
She carries twelve hundred rounds
of machine gun ammo; thirty-six
armor-piercing grenade missiles.
The saw blade is diamond-tipped
titanium; laser-guided and can cut
through three-inch steel in about
ten seconds. The flame thrower is
good for one hundred full-
strength, twenty-second blasts.
The shell is a mix of titanium and
steel with an outer layer of
chrome. Her aim is accurate to
within one one- millionth of a
millimeter. The sword, I will
admit, is merely a conceit of
mine. I just think it looks cool.
Whatís her power source?
She's self-generated, basically.
She runs on little more than
gyroscopes and watch batteries.
How many gigs of memory?
My, my. So many questions. Donít
you want to see what my toy can
Frankly, Iíve seen enough.
Billions of dollars worth of metal
and silicon, for what? You are
about to commit the single worst
war atrocity in all of history.


You donít think the virus was an
atrocity? You donít think other
acts of terrorism by the same
perpetrators were atrocities? Itís
a different world, Roam. The
wait-and-see attitude of the Cold
War doesnít really work in the
Holy War.
The most frightening thing about
everything you are doing, is the
fact that you truly believe that
you are doing the right thing.
Of course Iím doing the right
thing! These people must be stop-
ped. At any cost.
Jesus wept!
Roam storms out. McCallum stares after him, hard.

After a moment, Teresa clears her throat again.
Um... General?
What!? Oh. Yes. Tami, stand down.
TAMI reforms into a sphere.

Tom and Teresa look at each other, worriedly.
SUBTITLE: Maguire Air Force Base, NJ
Airmen stand guard at the gates of an electrified fence, on
the other side of which, several hundred zombies wander

The airmen throw stones at the zombies, laughing. A zombie
nun gets hit with a stone. She turns and lurches at the
airmen, hitting the fence. There is a loud Ďzap,í and she is


thrown backwards.

She lands, stunned, her hair standing up and smoke literally
pouring out of her ears, nose and gaping mouth.

The airmen laugh even harder.

A Humvee pulls up and the airmen jump to attention. Several
officers get out of the vehicle. One of them is Grant.
An Air Force CAPTAIN strides up to the now ramrod airmen,
who salute.

What the hell is going on here?
                       AIRMAN #1
Sir, nothing, Sir!
Didnít look like nothing as I was
coming over the hill. In fact, it
looked like you were throwing
stones at the... new recruits.
                       AIRMAN #2
We was just haviní some fun,
Sir, is all.
Have your fun on your own time,
                       AIRMAN #2
Sir, yes, Sir!
      (To Grant)
Major Grant, I believe youíll find
everything else in order.
General McCallum wants this group
ready to fly by seventeen hundred.
You can give the General my
personal guarantee.


Iíll do that, Captain.
Grant gets back in the Humvee and it turns around. The
Captain begins to give orders as the camera pulls back.
A crowd of anti-war protestors has gathered outside the
gates. They carry signs which read: ďDonít Send My Grandmaís
Corpse to War!Ē ďZombies Were People, Too!Ē ďCannibalism =
Terrorism!Ē ďKill the Dead, Not the Living!Ē ďArabs Arenít

One little old man, alone and marching in his own little
circle, carries a sign which reads: ďCapital Punishment Now!
Execute President Williams for the Murder of 150 Million

Suddenly, several Secret Service agents come rushing at him.
He swings the sign at them, like a giant fly-swatter. The
agents duck and weave. One pulls out his gun, but the old
man swats the gun out of his hand and hits him right over
the head with the sign. The agent goes down. The others are
stunned for a moment. The old man throws his sign at them,
gives them the finger and runs off, laughing crazily and
losing himself in the crowd.
Williams stands behind his desk, with McCallum sitting,
opposite. Williams is pointing out the window at the
You see this, Mac? This is all
your fault!
Under YOUR authorization, Sir.
You son of a bitch!
I certainly mean no disrespect,
Mister President. None at all. But
you must realize...


What I realize, is that there are
over two thousand people out there
who think that I'm a murderer and
a ghoul.
Hippies and tree-huggers.
Voters, goddamnit! And believe me,
these days, I need all the voters
that I can get.
Win the war. Theyíll become
complacent again. Theyíll forget
No one will forget this, Mac. This
was nearly the end.
All the more reason. Save
civilization, Mark. Take out
the heathens.
Williams stares out the window for a moment, thinking. He
turns back to McCallum.
I should know better than to
listen to you, Mac. God knows,
I should know better.
Believe me, Mark. Itís the only
way. Besides, youíre killing
two birds with one stone, here.
Then why do I have the feeling
that this thing is going to come
back and bite me in the ass?


Mark, you have my personal
Yes, I do, donít I?
Of course you d...
Mac, I just had a grand idea.
Since I have your... personal
assurance, I want you to go.
Yes. Lead your troops. Go.
McCallum is completely flummoxed, and looks at Williams,
Using a joystick to manipulate a robotic arm in another
room, Abby is carefully piping chemicals and liquids into
test tubes and onto slides. She wears a lab coat and small,
naso-oral respirator.

Olaf enters and stands behind her, watching for a moment.
Abby notices his reflection in the glass and jumps, causing
the arm to drop a vial, which shatters on the floor.
Oh, Iím sorry, my dear. Iím sorry.
Abby removes her respirator.
Itís okay, Doctor Olaf, really.
Iím just glad weíre on this side
of the glass.


Any progress?
This thing is tougher than HIV. So
far, itís been resistant to every
virucide Iíve tried. It mutates
faster than anything Iíve ever
I know. Each generation seems to
be a new strain. A new strain.
It doesnít even need to reproduce
to create a new strain. It's like
it absorbs whatever it comes into
contact with.
Well, what havenít you tried?
Not much. Whoever made this thing,
knew what they were doing. And if
I ever meet the bastard, Iíll
personally shoot him in the balls,
just to watch him cry before I cut
his rotten head off!
Doctor Wright!
Sorry. Just a little angry and
Sounds to me like you could use a
Maybe I should. Is there coffee in
the other room?
I meant away from here. Away from
here. Outside. A real break.


Oh. We can do that?
I can. And as long as you are with
me, so can you. What do you say?
Iíll buy you lunch. You can see
the sun...
Abby looks at the broken vial and then back at Olaf.
Iíd like that very much.
Tom sits on the bed, reading ďFrankenstein.Ē
Teresa is wearing headphones, doing crunches on the floor.
We can hear the tinny sound of music leaking from her

The camera switches to Teresaís POV. The music comes on,
full blast Ė Wagnerís ďRide of the Valkeries.Ē We see her
knees, then swing back up to the ceiling and down again to
her knees.
Roam sits on the floor, naked, in the lotus position,
chanting a mantra with his eyes closed.

The camera moves around his well-muscled body, examining the
many battle scars on his skin. Candles burn all around him.
He is breathing slowly and steadily.

After a moment, he stops chanting. His expression changes
from one of peace to one of concern and fear.

The camera moves in to an ECU of his eyes, which fly open in
alarm. There is a flash of white light. Roam's head jerks
back, as though shot.


The camera moves into his rapidly dilating eye, traveling
along the optic nerve and into his brain. There is another
flash of white light.


Roam's POV. Chaos. The camera dollies along a street as
people run past, screaming in horror.

Zombies chase after people, grabbing men, women and children
alike; biting into them savagely; pulling out their
intestines and fighting over their still-beating hearts,
jelly-filled eyes and brains.

A woman in a birka runs up into the camera, screaming in
Arabic. Roam's hands come into frame and push her away.

The camera rounds a corner to find a scene of carnage, as
half-devoured victims begin to come back to life;
squirming and climbing over one another; gnashing their
teeth and reaching out to Roam.

The camera continues through the mass of living corpses, to
the end of the street, where TAMI deploys herself, aiming
all of her weapons at the camera.
Hello, Agent Thesky. Do you want
to play a game?
Another flash of white light.
CU of Roamís face, drenched in sweat. He is smiling
Gyroscopes my ass!
Suddenly, a klaxon sounds and a red light in the ceiling
begins to swirl. A voice comes over the speakers.
This is not a drill! All per-
sonnel report to level two.
This is...
The red light flashes, the klaxon sounds, the voice


...not a drill! All personnel...
Tom throws his book down in disgust.
The red light flashes, the klaxon sounds, the voice
...report to level two. This is
not a drill. All personnel...
Teresa removes her headphones and turns to look at the
light, giving it the finger in disgust.
Olaf and Abby are heading toward an exit, as the siren
Whatís that?
Shit! Shit! Nothing. Itís nothing.
Keep going. Keep going!
They continue down the hall, ignoring the people headed past
in them in the opposite direction.
Scientists and soldiers gather; making their way into the
auditorium, where McCallum awaits on stage, pacing.

Tom and Teresa enter, see each other and sit together in the
rear. Roam joins them a second later.
This is it, kids. Got your bags


I thought we were getting out of
here, Thesky.
You are. Abbyís already on her
way, with Olaf.
Shh! Keep your mouths shut and
your ears open
Look, Thesky, you do whatever it
is you want to do. I, for one,
have enough grief in my life
without adding treason and de-
I donít know why, but I like you,
Roam. You have a craziness thatís
almost endearing. But I have to
agree with Tom, here. Macís not
someone Iíd want to fuck with, you
Fine, but you WILL be getting out,
whether you want to or not. Die's
been cast, darlin'.
As the crowd settles in, McCallum approaches the dais,
tapping on the microphone for attention.
Ladies and gentlemen, if I may
have your attention, please!
The crowd continues to talk, ignoring him.
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
Ladies and gentlemen, please!


They continue to ignore him. He reaches inside his jacket
and removes a pistol, firing one shot into the air. Except
for a few surprised screams, the crowd falls silent.

Plaster rains down and settles on McCallum's head and
shoulders. He doesn't seem to notice.
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
Thank you. There isn't much time,
so I will be brief. I've just left
President Williams, who has auth-
orized Phase Two of our operation.
There is a murmur among the crowd.
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
All Special Ops personnel are now
on full active duty. We will be
leaving at oh-nine-hundred hours,
approximately thirty-seven minutes
from now.
A larger murmur. McCallum raises his voice to compensate.
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
Please! There is a lot to get
through here, in very little time.
Special Ops will report to the
heli-pads no later than fifteen
minutes before departure. All
research personnel are to double
their efforts. Robotics, please
see that TAMI is ready to to load
immediately. After oh-four-hundred
today, Major William Sorenson will
take command of this facility and
the operations thereof. All re-
maining personnel will report
directly to him. Agents Thesky and
Watson, and Captain Davidson,
please meet me in my office im-
mediately. That is all for now. To
your stations.
McCallum leaves the stage as the crowd begins to disperse to
their respective duties.
I donít think this is good.
No... really?


Stop it! You two are like five
year-olds. I can't stand it!
Far be it from me to deny my
immaturity. In fact, I freely
admit that I sometimes revel in
it. But whether either of you
realize it or not, this is the
beginning of the end. Game over.
No time outs; no extra lives; no
saving. If there was ever a time
to act like a child, I'd say this
is it. Now, shall we go hear what
Uncle Monty has to say?
Roam pushes his way into the crowd as Tom and Teresa stare
after him.
That guy is such an asshole!
Yeah, he is. Unfortunately, I
think he may be right.
Tom looks at her, questioningly.
Abby and Olaf are making their way toward an exit, when the
Marine Sentry rounds the corner directly in front of them.
All three jolt to a stop.

Olaf and Abby try not to look nervous as the Sentry eyes
them. He sees their red badges and steps aside, saluting.
Sir! Maíam!
Olaf salutes clumsily and they hurry past, practically
running the last few feet.
A side door bangs open and Abby and Olaf fly out.

When the door shuts, Abby bursts into gales of hysterical


laughter. Olaf laughs, in spite of himself.
Shh! Quiet! Quiet!
Why do I feel like Iím skipping
Eighth Grade Gym class?
Hurry! Hurry!
Olaf is practically dragging Abby away from the building.

They round a corner and a black sedan comes screaming up to
the curb in front of them.

Abby, who until now has been laughing, looks at Olaf,
Whatís this?
Olaf reaches inside his lab coat and pulls out a sheaf of
papers and thrusts them at her.
Take these. Itís all there. All
What are these? Whatís all there?
The proof. There is no cure, Abby.
There will never be a vaccine.
Everyone is already infected.
Everyone! Get to the press, Abby.
Go to New York or Atlanta. The
Times or CCN. Everything you need
is in these documents, including
I donít... wait... WAIT! I
donít... understand... what about
you? You arenít staying, are you?


I have to. I can make excuses
for you not being around, at least
for a few hours. But they would
notice if I was gone. And then
they would come looking.
Why... why are you doing this?
The sedanís driver, RUDY, rolls down his window, looking
UhÖ Sir? We really need to be
Olaf looks at Abby, intensely.
Do you believe in the soul, Doctor
Wright? Do you believe in God?
I... Iím not sure.
And neither am I. But just in
case, I want to be able to stand
before Him and not be ashamed of
at least one thing in my life. Now
go. Your family is waiting at a
safe house in Baltimore. From
there, itís up to you. Rudy, here,
will take you wherever you decide
to go. Wherever you decide to go.
Abby takes the documents and then throws her arms around
Thank you.
She gets in the backseat of the car and it pulls away.
Abby turns to look out the rear window, but Olaf is already
making his way back the Pentagon, looking sadder and older
than ever.


Abby turns back, a look of worry on her face.
Tom and Teresa are sitting in the chairs across from
McCallumís desk. Roam is leaning against the wall.
Well... where the hell is he?
Heís taking his time. He wants to
make us nervous.
And he's doing a fine job of it.
The door bangs open and McCallum strides in. Teresa and Tom
jump to attention.

Roam doesnít move, except to wipe some imaginary dust off
his shoulders and then sharpen the crease in his pants.

McCallum laughs and moves to his seat.
Relax. Sit down. You two should
take some lessons from your col-
league, here. Nothing seems to
ruin his ennui.
All three sit, as Roam stands up straight, with his arms
folded across his chest.
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
Do have a seat, Agent Thesky.
Iíll stand, thanks.
Suit yourself. The President has
given his orders. We ship out with
the others


The good General is joining us,
Tom. Seems he was a very bad boy.
      (Ignoring Roam)
The President has asked me to
personally oversee this mission.
I will be joining you on the last
transports out. Along with a few
hundred or so of our "recruits."
He sure didnít mean Liza Minelli
McCallum is beginning to get angry.
When your comments are wanted,
Thesky, I will ask for them.
      (To Tom and Teresa)
My helicopter will take us to
Maguire, where the four of us, and
TAMI, will be taken to our final
Which is?
And it will remain so, until our
Donít you think we have a right
to know just where it is that
youíre planning to kill us?
Kill you? Another of your visions?
When are you going to learn, Roam?
My intentions are purely in the


                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
interests of the United States of
America, and ALL of her citizens.
Since I have no say in the matter,
anyway, I wonít argue the point.
Though I still say we have a right
to know where weíre going.
Mac, Iíve known you a long time.
Daddy said you were one of the
finest men he ever knew. I sat on
your knee at Christmas-time. Iíve
never been afraid of you. Until
now. Please tell us where weíre
going. You owe me that much, at
least. For Daddy.
Young lady, your father was the
finest man I ever knew. And I
resent the fact that you would try
and use my relationship with him
as a bargaining tool.
Teresa is stunned into silence.
You want to know what I see, Mac?
Want to know whatís going to
happen in Pakistan? Or how about
in Turkey? No worries in India,
thoughÖ theyíve been burning their
dead for centuries.
McCallum snaps his head back toward Roam, who has obviously
struck a nerve.

McCallum stiffens, standing ramrod straight, his face
hardening until his jaw is practically leaping off his
skull. When he speaks, it is a growl of anger and contempt.
You will be prepared to deploy in
fifteen minutes. That is all.
He presses a button on the intercom on his desk, and three
very large MPs enter.


                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
Your have your orders. Dismissed!
The MPs escort the three out of the office. As the last one
out is shutting the door, we see a glimpse of McCallum as he
trashes his office in rage.
Roam sees this and smiles.
The bay is loaded with hundreds of shuffling zombies, all
wearing parachutes which are tethered to release lines. Five
or six Airmen are stationed at the front, watching over the

The airmen shout over the hum of the engines.
                       AIRMAN #3
Man, this is the creepiest watch
Iíve ever had.
                       AIRMAN #4
Itís almost over. We should be
over the target, soon.
                       AIRMAN #5
I think my bother-in-law is one of
                       AIRMAN #3
No shit?
                       AIRMAN #5
Yeah. Iíd recognize that cheap rug
All three laugh.
A red light begins to flash overhead as a klaxon sounds.
                       AIRMAN #4
This is it.
The cargo bay door opens and the Airmen begin to push from
behind, forcing the zombies out of the plane.


The zombies begin to fall from the back of the plane, their
parachutes deploying as soon as they exit. Soon the sky is
filled with parachutes.

There are several CUís of parachuting zombies, drooling and
chomping, totally unaware that they are skydiving.
Olaf stands before the glass wall, talking to the Munroe
zombie, who stumbles about the enclosure, mindlessly.
Marvin, did you ever think it
would end this way? Of course
not. No one could have imagined
such a thing. The only trouble
is... someone did.
The Munroe zombie stares blankly.

Olaf moves to sit behind the desk, propping his feet up on
                       OLAF (cont'd)
And what do you care anyway?
Youíre dead. Youíre just a... a
virus, now. Funny thing is, I
always thought you were destined
for greatness, Marvin. The cure
for AIDS, or maybe even cancer.
Who knows what might have been?
What I do know is, Iím tired,
Marvin. Tired of the horror. Tired
of the fear. Tired of telling the
emperor how beautiful his new suit
is. Abbyís gone. I helped her get
away. Soon, the others will all be
gone. Then it will be just you and
me. And oh, Marvin, the things
weíll do and the fun weíll have.
You just wait. You... just...
SUBTITLE: Baltimore, MD.


The black sedan pulls up in front of a nondescript
brownstone. The camera catches a homeless woman, pushing a
shopping cart past the house.

CU on her as we see her adjust the earphone she wears.

We then see a young hood on the street corner, also wearing
a wire.

Rudy gets out of the car and looks about. He opens the rear
door and Abby gets out. Rudy points to the front door of the
brownstone, and Abby goes to the door.
Abby steps into the house, looking about.
      (Calling out)
Jeff? Megan? Dale? Itís me!
Jeff comes running down the stairs, followed by their
children. He sweeps Abby up in his arms.
Thank God, thank God!
We have to go. Now.
Right now. All of us.
Youíll know when we get there.
Come on. The carís waiting.
Jeff and the children look at her, worried.
                       ABBY (cont'd)
Look, I know this is weird. But
what isnít, these days? Just trust
me, okay?


Jeff nods and they all follow Abby out.
Tom is packing his duffel. There is a knock at the door and
Tom turns to see Teresa.
I'm not going.
Iím not going. I think Roam is
right. I donít think you should
go, either.
And how are you going to manage
that? McCallum will just send
someone to get you.
Roam has a plan.
Roam is insane.
Tom, I donít think he is. I think
heís telling the truth.
No, he thinks heís telling the
truth, and you believe it because
he does.
Listen to yourself, Tom. Youíre
trying your best to talk yourself
out of believing him, too.
Because heís a loony.


Just because something falls out
of your realm of experience,
doesnít mean it isnít valid or
real. Six months ago, if I had
told you that flesh-eating
zombies were going to take out
half the population, you would
have laughed at me.

You could go to prison.
I'd be alive.
If you call that living.
I don't think I will. I... Oh
hell, I don't know what I think
anymore. All I know is, I don't
want to end up as a statistic on a
list of casualties of war. Es-
pecially a war I didn't sign up
Look, you do what you have to
do. Iím going.
Teresa looks at Tom a moment and turns to leave, but turns
back again.
Iím meeting Roam in the decon room
in five minutes. I hope youíll be
there, too.
Tom has returned to his packing and doesnít answer.

Teresa shakes her head, sadly and then leaves.
McCallum is overseeing the loading of men and equipment into
the choppers. An airman hands him a clipboard with a list
attached. McCallum looks it over, checks a few boxes and


then signs the form. He hands it back to the airman, who
salutes and leaves. McCallum turns to look at a door,
checking his watch and grimacing.
The door slides open and Teresa enters, to find Roam
I donít think heís coming.
Oh, he is. Trust me.
Seems like Iím already doing too
much of that. I donít like the
idea of facing a court martial in
McCallumís post-apocalyptic
military court.
I guarantee, it will not come to
The door opens and Tom enters, reluctantly.
                       ROAM (cont'd)
Ah, Tom. I knew no rational human
being could believe that
McCallumís plan was a good one.
Tom ignores him, and goes directly to Teresa.
Look, you already know how I feel
about Thesky and his ďvisions.Ē
You also know that I think you are
making a huge mistake.
Teresa starts to speak, but Tom stops her.
                       TOM (cont'd)
No, wait. I said I think you are
making a huge mistake. I am not
prepared, however, to let you make
more. If you donít turn around and
come with me right now, I will be
forced to come with you, if only
to protect you from yourself. And
from Thesky.


Teresa blinks, not sure what to say.
                       TOM (con't)
Maybe this is coming out of no-
where, but I... well, I care about
you. I don't want to see you go to
prison. Or... worse.
Teresa looks to Roam, who is smiling broadly, and then back
at Tom.
I can't let you come with me if
you don't believe it's the right
thing to do, Tom. I won't let you
endanger yourself for me. I'm
going. It's my decision and mine
alone. Just as yours must be.
Tom looks at her a moment, then at Roam, who is still
smiling. Tom takes a deep breath.
      (To Roam)
Alright, asshole, whatís the plan?
Take off your uniforms. Then weíll
go see Dr Olaf. Come on, move. We
have seven minutes to do this!
Tom and Teresa begin to undress.
The last of the choppers is loaded and McCallum looks to the

It opens, and several people in flight suits come through,
led by Roam.

McCallum smiles and climbs aboard. The others board behind
McCallum sits next to the pilot. Roam and the other people
get in behind him. Roam sits, facing McCallumís back.


McCallum turns to look, seeing only the helmeted heads of
the people sitting with their backs to him.

McCallum moves to see Roam, who gives him a thumbs up.

McCallum nods to the pilot.
The chopper lifts off and flies away.
Olaf is wheeling a laundry cart down the hall, itís contents
hidden beneath a stained tarp. He is whistling ďI Ainít Got

He passes a guard post, nodding at the two Marine MPs posted
there. He gets about ten feet past them, when one of them
stops him.
                       M.P. #1
Doctor Olaf? Sorry sir, but we
have orders to inspect anything
going out of the lab area.
Olaf stops and turns toward them.
What? What? Oh. Of course. Be
my guest. It's just non-viable
waste, headed for the incinerator.
The MPs look at each other.
                       M.P. #1
We still need to inspect the
cart, sir.
Of course. Of course.
MP #1 pulls the tarp back to reveal the cartís contents:
a pile of body parts. Arms, legs, heads, hands and torsos
are piled up in the cart.

MP #2 turns away, grimacing.


Oh, buck up, son. Youíll see worse
in combat. Hell, these days, you
see worse on the streets of D.C.
MP #1 reaches into the cart, picks up a hand and examines
                       M.P. #1
What did you say these were?
Non-viable. They have outlived
their usefulness, so to speak.
The MP begins to rummage in the cart, eventually lifting a
head out by its hair.

Olaf looks down as the MP lifts the head, to see Tom's
tattooed hand exposed.

MP #1 swings the head toward his partner, laughing. MP #2
turns away, retching. MP #1 tosses the head into cart and it
bounces back out, onto the floor.
                       M.P. #1
Oops. Sorry. Slippery little
devils, ainít they?
MP #2 retches harder and louder.

MP #1 picks up the head and gently places it in the cart,
recovering Tomís hand.
I think your friend might need
some help.
                       M.P. #1
Heíll be alright. Sorry about
stopping you, Sir. Orders.
Itís quite alright. I understand
perfectly. Perfectly.


                       M.P. #1
You go ahead, Sir. And have a good
The MP salutes, but Olaf is already pushing the cart through
the double doors at the end of the hall.
MP #1 turns to MP #2, and laughs again.
                       M.P. #1
      (To M.P. #2)
Man, what a puss you are.
At the far end of the hall, Olaf pushes the cart toward the
elevator. He speaks to the cart as he presses the call
      (To cart)
Almost there. Almost there.
The elevator arrives and Olaf pushes the cart in.
As before. McCallum turns to look back at Roam, who is deep
in thought. Roam looks up, sees McCallum, smiles and gives a
thumbs up.

The camera moves in, past to Roam to a large crate in the
cargo area, labeled: T*A*M*I.
Olaf pushes the button labeled ďGĒ and the elevator begins
to ascend. He addresses the cart again, through clenched
As soon as we away from the
cameras, you can get out.
This is the same street as in Roamís vision. Zombies, some
still attached to their parachutes, wander the street,
attacking the residents and causing havoc.


The camera dollies along the street, occasionally peering
into doors and windows.

In one window, a woman is fending off a zombie with a large,
cast-iron frying pan. She swats at it and hits it squarely
in the forehead. The impact rings a resounding peal and the
zombie stands still a moment, its face noticeably flattened,
before falling over.

In a doorway, a zombie is biting into the head of a man, as
a dog is worrying at the zombieís exposed femur. The
zombieís leg comes loose and the dog runs off with its prize
in its mouth, as the zombie continues to chomp away at the
manís head.

Through another window, a man is decapitating a zombie with
a scimitar. His wife and children, standing behind him,
cheer. Their cheers turn to screams as they are attacked
from behind and dragged away by zombies. The man turns to
fend the zombies off, but he is attacked from both sides,
and he goes down.

A young girl comes running from another doorway, pursued by
a parachuted zombie. The zombieís parachute gets caught on
furniture just inside the door, and like a dog reaching the
end of its tether, the zombie is yanked back into the house
with a "boing," and the young woman escapes.

A Humvee comes careening down the street, covered with
zombies trying to get at the soldiers inside. The Humvee
swerves back and forth, tossing zombies off into the street
and against the buildings.
Inside the Humvee, a zombie manages to get its head through
the passenger window. The soldier in the passenger seat
quickly rolls up the window, trapping the head.

The Humvee swerves against a wall, tearing the zombieís body

The zombieís head falls off into the soldierís lap, who
picks it up and tosses it in the back, screaming.

The soldiers in the back scream and toss the head back and
forth like a game of hot-potato, until one rolls his window
down and tosses the head out.

The thrown zombie head rims a trash barrel, rolling around
it several times, before falling in with a thud. The head
stares up from inside the can, blinking stupidly.


The Humvee, still covered with zombies, continues down the
street and around the corner into a marketplace.

The driver slams on his brakes and zombies go flying into
the stalls, crashing into melons and breaking pottery.

Three large jardiniŤres stand in one stall, and zombies fall
into them, one after another; plunk, plunk, PLUNK!
The elevator door opens, and Olaf steps off, pushing the
cart around a corner and out the door.
Olaf stops the cart and looks around. He sees no one and
breathes a sigh of relief.
      (To cart)
We're out!
The pile of body parts begins to move as Teresa and Tom
climb out from underneath. They wear rotted, zombie clothes.
Various body parts fall to the ground around the cart.
Oh my God! That is the most dis-
gusting thing I have ever done!
Lucky you!
Olaf begins to scoop up the fallen body parts and put them
back into the cart.
There isn't much time. You have to
get as far away as you can. As
fast as you can.
We wonít forget this, Doctor.
      (Stops scooping)
Please, both of you. Go. Mac's
chopper must be landing at Maguire
by now. You havenít much time...


                       OLAF (cont'd)
havenít much time.
Tom and Teresa take off down the street as Olaf pushes the
cart back into the building. They do not look back.
McCallumís chopper descends.

A Humvee drives out to greet it.

McCallum gets out of the chopper and heads to the Humvee,
where Grant waits for him.
Welcome to Maguire, General.
Major. Good to be here. The
machinery in the chopper will
accompany me to the target, along
with Agent Thesky. The others will
go in transport number two.
Yes, Sir. Is there anything else,
Yeah. Where can I get a shot of
Jack, around here?
Teresa and Tom are walking down the street, dressed in
zombie rags.
Weíve got to get off the streets
and out of these clothes, before
someone takes a shot at us.
Any suggestions?


Yeah. Come with me.
He takes her hand begins to cautiously lead her away.
Roam is watching as a crew loads TAMIís crate onto a
transport plane.

Grantís Humvee arrives and Grant and McCallum get out and
approach Roam.
      (To Roam)
Is she ready to go, Thesky?
All ready, Sir.
And Davidson and Watson?
They just lifted off.
When do you expect to be taking
off, General?
Weíre leaving now, Major. Thank
the Colonel for his hospitality.
Our pleasure, Sir. Have a good
flight. And a good mission.
Grant salutes as McCallum turns away. Grant looks at Roam.
                       GRANT (cont'd)
      (To Roam)
I'm sorry, son.


This whole thing... it's...
Thatís as good a word as any, I
Godspeed, Agent Thesky. Godspeed.
Grant turns and heads back to the Humvee as Roam hurries to
follow McCallum to the plane.
Jeff, Megan and Dale are sleeping in the back seat, as Abby
reads through the documents that Olaf gave her. She chews
her lip, concentrating with a frown.

The chauffeur window slides down, and we see Rudy in the
rear-view mirror.

Abby looks up.
Yes, Rudy?
Dr Wright, we have at least
another three hours. I really
think we should find a place for
you to get some rest.
I couldnít sleep now if you gave
me a whole bottle of sleeping
pills. But youíre probably ex-
I could use a stretch and a nap.


Of course.
Thereís a rest stop about twenty
minutes away.
Abby goes back to reading as Rudy raises the window.

The camera moves in on the rear-view mirror, where Rudy is
watching Abby with a frightening intensity.
The door opens and the lights come on, revealing Tom and
Teresa in the doorway of a very messy apartment.
Oh my God! Theyíve been here.
What? Who?
They tossed the place... itís a
      (A beat)
Oh. Oh! You mean, you live like
Oh, you thought... No. This is the
Teresa walks about, looking around in distaste.
I always thought military guys
were compulsively neat.
Yeah, well clinical depression
tends to change all that.


Teresa is unsure what to say.
                       TOM (cont'd)
Come on. I know I have some things
that you can you wear. And yes,
theyíre clean.
Teresa smiles and follows him into the bedroom.

Tom opens a closet and pulls out womenís jeans and a tank
                       TOM (cont'd)
Try these. Whatís your shoe size?
Um... seven.
Tom rummages in the closet, finds a pair of running shoes
and hands them to her.
These are six and a halfs, but I
think they're pretty well-
stretched. There are socks in the
second drawer.
He points to a dresser with a large mirror above it. Teresa
goes to it, watching Tom in the mirror. He pulls out a pair
of jeans and button-down shirt for himself.

Teresa opens the drawer, to find several pairs of neatly
rolled socks, as well as precision-folded menís underwear.

She glances back up at the mirror and watches Tom undress.
His back is well-muscled, with broad shoulders that taper to
his waist. He begins to pull down his pants and Teresa
admires his ass and thighs. Then he pulls the pants off and
she sees his scarred lower leg.

He turns and catches her looking, and she quickly moves
away, embarrassed.
Is there... someplace...?


Oh. Yeah, sure. Bathroomís on the
Teresa laughs and Tom looks at her, questioningly.
                       TOM (cont'd)
      (Singing to the
       tune of ďBad Moon
There's a bathroom on the right...
Tom smiles and Teresa hurries out while Tom continues to hum
ďBad Moon RisingĒ and pulls on sweat pants.
                       TERESA (O.S.)
Mind if I shower?
No, go ahead. Just leave me some
hot water.
Teresa steps back into the room, clad only in towel. Tom
stands staring, holding his pants up with one hand.
Actually...I... I thought...
Well... maybe you might want to...
Go first?
Damn! And I thought Marines were
She strides over to him and kisses him, hard. Tom responds,
and soon both towel and sweats have been dropped to the


I guess this is an invitation to
share the shower?
Two Airmen are pushing zombies out of the plane. As they
near the end, one of them notices two zombies without
parachutes, both in flight suits.
                       AIRMAN #6
What do you think?
                       AIRMAN #7
Someone fucked up. Miscounted.
                       AIRMAN #6
And who do you think will get
blamed for it?
                       AIRMAN #7
Sucks to be us.
                       AIRMAN #6
Yeah. Unless...
The two look at one another and then at the two remaining,
parachute-less zombies.
                       AIRMAN #7
I wonít tell, if you wonít.
Airman #6 pushes the last two zombies out of the plane. As
they go over the edge, we see the flight suits' name badges:
The two zombies tumble through a free fall and the camera
follows them down where they crash to earth, breaking into
pieces which flop about the desert.
Abby, Jeff and the kids are asleep in the back.

The chauffeurís window opens and Rudy looks at them,


Rudy gets out of the sedan, stretching his legs. He looks

In the distance, headlights appear, growing closer.

A large black van pulls in along side the sedan. Several
men, clad in black, get out.

One, CECIL, a grizzled, but still powerful man, approaches
Shh. Theyíre asleep.
      (Extending his
Iím Cecil Thordassen.
      (Ignoring Cecil's
Iím not supposed to know that.
Too late, then, isnít it?
You know the orders?
Sadly, I do. She has the docu-
Sadly, she does.
You have done nothing of which to
be ashamed.


Never said I did.
Good. Wasted emotion, guilt. World
would be a better place without
Yeah. Whatever.
Cecil motions to the other men, who carefully open the
sedan's doors, spraying the sleeping family with canisters
of gas.

Abby rolls over and Jeff mumbles softly, but none of them
wake up.

The men carry the family from the back of the sedan into the
Guess weíre done here, Rudy.
Guess so.
The men get in the van, closing the doors behind them.
                       RUDY (con't)
Rudy turns to get back in the sedan and we hear the soft
ďpfftĒ of a gun with a silencer.

Rudy slumps against the sedan and turns to see Cecil,
holding a smoking pistol.
Cecil fires again, hitting Rudy square in the forehead.

Cecil turns and quickly gets in the van, which pulls off in
a squeal of tires, its taillights disappearing down the


Cecil sits shotgun as one of the other men drives. He opens
a cell phone and presses a speed-dial number.
      (Into phone)
Itís done. Theyíre on their
way. No. Yes, Rudy was taken
care of. Yes. Three hours,
maybe. Good. See you there.
He closes the phone and looks into the back, where the
family still sleeps.
The van speeds past the camera and down the road.
Tom and Teresa lie in bed, in each others arms.
Yeah. Now what?
What do you mean?
I mean we canít stay here. Mac
must have found out by now.
Theyíll come looking for us.
And they arenít going to find us.
Someone I know... knew... had a
place. Heís gone now. One of them.
I donít think heíll mind if we use


And where is this place?
Not until we get there. They could
be listening.
If they were listening, theyíd be
here by now. You sound like Roam.
Shit! Shoot me now.
She kisses him, instead.
On another street, chaos reigns. Bodies and body parts lay
everywhere and the streets literally run red with blood.

A zombie shuffles past, clumsily trying to remove a vulture
from its back. The vulture is pulling pieces of flesh off
the zombieís skull.

A Middle Eastern soldier comes after the zombie, shooting
both it and the vulture. He turns and calls out in Arabic,
waving his companions on.

Several more soldiers come into view, weapons at the ready.
They move down the street.

Suddenly, an open-topped Humvee comes around the corner.

McCallum is seated next to Roam, who is driving. The Humvee
and the soldiers stop. McCallum stands up, grinning madly.
Well, well, well. Look at what we
got here.
The soldiers stare, uncomprehending.
                       MCCALLUM (CONT'D)
Say hello to my little friend,


There is a rumbling crash, and the soldiers look at one
another, concerned. Another crash, and the then another,
each progressively louder.

TAMI turns the corner, weapons at the ready. She comes
around in front of the Humvee and assumes an offensive
stance, aiming her weapons at the soldiers.

The soldiers, trembling, immediately throw their weapons
away, fall to their knees and raise their arms in surrender.
                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
Tami, targets in sight. Fire.
TAMI fires her machine guns at the soldiers, killing them
all. She stops firing as soon as the last soldier falls.
McCallum whoops and laughs as he sits back down.
                       MCCALLUM (con't)
Hot damn! Now thatís what I call
fire power!
Why did you do that?
Theyíre the enemy, son.
They were surrendering. They were
All the better. Put the fear of
God into the heathens before
sendin' 'em to hell!.
That what you call it? Looked like
murder, to me. Ever hear of a
little thing called the Geneva
      (Growing angry)
Keep it up, Thesky. Give me a
reason to feed you to the troops.
Now letís roll.


                       MCCALLUM (cont'd)
Roam sighs and puts the Humvee into gear. It rolls down the
street, TAMI following behind, ready to fire.
Olaf sits at a desk, watching the Munroe zombie through the
glass. The door opens and MP #3 enters.
                       MP #3
Doctor Olaf?
Olaf does not look at the MP, but continues to stare at
                       MP #3
Sir, I have orders to escort you
to the White House.
The White House? Why?
                       MP #3
I believe the President wants to
speak with you, sir.
The President?
                       MP #3
Yes, sir.
      (Turning to MP #3)
And just what does old Fudge Face
have to say?
                       MP #3
Fudge Face... thatís what I call
them all; Fudge Face. Except
Clinton. Fine man, Clinton. Too


                       OLAF (cont'd)
bad he had to go and dip his pen
in the office inkwell.
                       MP #3
Doctor Olaf, if youíll just come
with me, Sir.
Whatís your name, son?
                       MP #3
McPherson, Sir.
No, you fool. Your first name.
What does your mother call you?
                       MP #3
Gregory, Sir.
Iíll bet she calls you ĎGreg.í Or
                       MP #3
Sir, if youíll just come with
Oh, but Iím afraid thatís not
possible, Greggie. Not possible.
                       MP #3
You see, I canít go where youíre
going, Greggie. Not yet. I have
too much to do. Too much to do.
Olaf reaches down and pushes a button on the panel embedded
in the desk before him.

A door slides open and Munroe flies out, attacking MP #3,
who is too stunned to react.

Olaf is splattered with the MP's blood.


So much to do... so much...
The van flies down the road.
Cecil sits in the back, watching the Wrights.

Abby stirs and then awakens, looking about, confused.
What the...? Where are we? Where's
Rudy? And who the hell are you?
A friend. And weíre on our way to
      (Angry and scared)
Whereís Rudy? What happened to the
car? How did we get...
In good time, Doctor Wright. In
good time. As it turns out, Rudy
wasnít exactly acting in your best
interests. For now, just relax and
trust me.
Trust you? I have no idea who the
hell you even are!
Of course. How rude of me. My name
is Thordassen. Cecil Thordassen.
Smiling, Cecil extends his hand, which Abby ignores.
                       CECIL (con't)
Yes, well... I suppose your mis-
trust is understandable, given the
circumstances. But you should know


                       CECIL (cont'd)
that Dr Olaf arranged for my
services as a failsafe, because he
didnít trust Rudy. He was right
not to.
      (Very suspicious)
Rudy sold you out, Doctor. Sold
you out to me. And whoís to say it
couldnít have been someone working
for Mac, instead of me?
Abby looks at him, her expression changed from one of
suspicion to one of confusion.
Okay, how about this? Roam Thesky
is an arrogant son-of-a-bitch, who
probably deserves a smack in the
puss for his lack of tact, but he
ends up being right about ninety-
six percent of the time, and I
wouldn't argue with odds like
that. Thesky told me to do what-
ever Olaf asked me to do.
Abby smiles at this.
                       CECIL (cont'd)
      (Smiling back)
Thatís better. I would trust Roam
with my life, you know.
Sure, but would you trust him with
your sister?
Hell, lady. I wouldnít trust him
with my mother!


A fierce battle rages. Middle Eastern soldiers are
attempting to hold back a gate, being pushed on the other
side by a horde of zombies. Around the soldiers, citizens
and soldiers alike are battling zombies.

The camera dollies through them as zombies bite and tear at
victims; people hack and shoot at zombies and soldiers try
to figure out which are which.

The zombies behind the gate swell in number and the gate
falls, pushing the soldiers into the melee.

At the front of the zombie mob is the Preacher from New
Orleans; on either side of him is Diego del Fuego and
Lamont, all three of them now drooling, mindless ghouls.

Into the midst of it all, rumble TAMI and the Humvee,
McCallum grinning in his glory.
Tami, attack!
TAMI deploys all of her weapons, hacking, sawing,
flame-throwing and shooting her way through the crowd,
killing anything and everything in her path.

Blood and body parts fly through the air, drenching McCallum
and Roam. McCallum continues to laugh maniacally, as Roam
simply grips the steering wheel tighter and tighter.
The elevator doors open up and Olaf, leading several
zombies, including Munroe and MP #3, comes out.
      (Grinning madly)
This way, children. This way.
Weíll show them. Weíll show them.
Several soldiers try and run around the Humvee, but TAMIís
machine guns swivel around and gun them down, hitting the
Humveeís front tires.


Roam leaps from the Humvee and runs toward TAMI. McCallum,
enraged, leaps out and chases after him.
Thesky! What the hell do you think
youíre doing?
CU on the LCD round counters on TAMIís machine guns, as they
quickly run down to zero.

TAMI continues to attack, using the flame thrower, the saw
and the sword.

Roam looks about. There are only a few people left alive,
and even fewer zombies. McCallum has almost reached him.

A soldier runs by, slipping in the gore, and Roam grabs him.
      (To McCallum)
Hey, Mac!
Roam pushes the soldier toward McCallum.

McCallum, surprised, grabs the soldier.

TAMI whips around at the motion and impales both the soldier
and McCallum on her sword.

      (After a beat)
Well, whadda ya know? It does look
Now, completely insane, Olaf laughs madly as the zombies
devour Pentagon staffers, who are screaming and trying to
run away from their attackers.
Thatís right, my children. Feed.
Feed on the monsters...


MP #2 runs by and knocks Olaf down.

Soon, Olaf is being trampled by both panicked humans and
shuffling zombies. He doesnít struggle.
      (A hoarse whisper)
Thank God. Thank...
Olaf dies.
There is no movement for several seconds as Roam and
McCallum stare at one another, hatefully.

Slowly, McCallum and the soldier fall from TAMIís sword,
making a wet, sliding sound.
Tami, you... you bitch!
Roam looks about at the ruin surrounding him. He is covered
in gore.

He looks at McCallum, who is lying on the ground, breathing

Zombies have begun to pour in again.
Well, Mac, I guess you got what
you wanted.
McCallum smiles, grimly and coughs up some blood.
Iíd rather you were in my place.
Oh, I wouldnít worry about that.


      (To TAMI)
TAMI comes to attention.
Yes, Agent Thesky?
I want to play a game.
McCallumís eyes grow wide.
No! You aren't supposed know
You forgot, Mac.
      (Her voice now
       very mechanical)
TAMI begins to resolve herself back into a sphere. A small
door opens under her insignia, revealing an LCD display. It
flashes 10 seconds.
                       TAMI (cont'd)
Commencing program Omega Omega
Omega. Sequence one-nine-
oh-nine-two. What game would you
like to play, Agent Thesky?
I'm psychic, you schmuck!
      (Very weak)
What game would you like to play,
Agent Thesky?


      (Grinning at
Global Thermonuclear War.
TAMI's LCD begins to count down. McCallumís eyes widen.

Olaf's eyes open, revealing milk-clouded corneas.

A woman trips and falls in front of him, Olaf opens his
mouth and leans in to take a bite, when his head is blown
off by MP #2
A Corvette flies up the road, its headlights illuminating a
US highway sign, reading: ďI-495 North.Ē
Tom drives, with Teresa in the passengerís seat.
So, Iím guessing weíre heading
For a little while.
Come on. They canít possibly have
your car bugged.
Actually, they could. They could
also have placed a tracking de-
vice. Thatís why weíre gonna ditch
You watch too much TV.


TAMI's LCD reads "5."

Roam grins.

The LCD reads "4."

Hundreds more zombies begin to pour into the streets.

The LCD reads "3."

CU on McCallum's terrified face.

The LCD reads "2."

CU on a grinning Roam as he surrounded by drooling zombies.
      (To McCallum)
Goodbye, asshole!

There are several seconds of bright white screen.
CU on Reporter, sitting behind the desk, reading from a blue
sheet. Again, there are no crawls or graphics, just the
Reporter behind a desk.
This just in to CCN. CCN has come
into documents which clearly im-
plicate President Williams and
General Montgomery McCallum in a
plot to create the so-called
ďzombie virus,Ē which has de-
vastated the Western hemisphere.
McCallum, believed killed in the
recent nuclear explosion in the
Middle East, had signed documents
authorizing creation of the virus
on behalf of the President.
Special Prosecutor James McGrath
is quoted as saying, ďIf President
Williams had any foreknowledge of
the creation of this virus...Ē
                                         FADE TO:


SUBTITLE: Eight Months Later

Tom sits out on the front porch, reading "Moby Dick" with a
shotgun in his lap. He sips a beer and looks down the road.

In the distance, he sees the glint of metal. He calls into
the cabin.
Looks like we got company.
Teresa comes to the door and opens it. She is visibly
Been a while.
Stay inside.
Like Iíve ever done anything
youíve told me to.
Tom smiles and looks back the road.

A large black van is approaching.

It stops in front of the cabin and Cecil gets out of the
driverís door.
Captain Tom Davidson?
Who's asking?
The van's sliding door opens and Abby comes out.
I am.
Tom and Teresa rush to Abby, grinning and hugging her.
Abby? I... I mean... how did you
know where...?


Roam told me where to bring her.
Roam? He's alive?
No. No, I'm sorry, heís not.
Cecil hands Tom a note.
ĎIn the spring, take Abby to White
Mills, Wisconsin. Off of State
Road 19 East, there is a dirt road
with a broken fence post. Take
Abby to the cabin at the end of
the dirt road.í
He called me the night before Olaf
did. I wrote it down, like I did
with everything Roam ever told me,
even though I had no idea what it
Teresa looks at Tom as if to say ďI told you so!Ē
Iíll be damned!
Williams has been indicted.
We heard.
Iím going to testify at the hear-
You think thatís wise?


I think itís the only way to make
sure this kind of thing never
happens again.
Where are my manners? Come in.
Come in.
She leads the three of them inside.
Abby, Cecil and Teresa are seated on the sofa, as Tom is
bringing in a tray of coffee.

Tom sets the tray on the table, taking a mug for himself and
passing mugs to the others.
With Olaf dead and Roam presumed
so, that leaves only the three of
us as witnesses.
I donít know. Iíve gotten used to
the quiet life.
Tom Davidson! You should be a-
shamed of yourself. There's no
reason to...
Except we never saw Williams and
McCallum together, so our test-
imony would be hearsay.
He's right, I'm afraid.
But the virus, the zombies...
Weíll just have to learn to live
with it. Morticians will certainly
have to change a few things. Iíd
guess bodies will only be buried


                       ABBY (cont'd)
if the brain has been removed.
You sound so... so...
Realistic. The virus is dormant in
the living; it only becomes active
after death. We'll adjust. That's
why humans have been so success-
ful; we adapt to new circumstances
quite well. And if we can't, we
make the circumstances adapt to
      (Rubbing her belly)
And the babies? What about them?
Just as the children born in the
eighties didnít know a world be-
fore HIV, they wonít know a world
before HZV.
They are all silent for moment, thinking about what Abby has
said. Teresa continues to rub her swollen belly.
ďO brave new world, that has such
creatures in it!Ē
                                         FADE TO:
Abby is seated at a table, flanked by lawyers, facing the
Congressional Sub-committee, who are questioning her.


                       CONGRESSMAN #1
So, Dr Watson, you saw General Mc-
Callumís plan, firsthand?
Only part of it. I didnít know
about TAMI until after I left the
                       CONGRESSMAN #2
Did General McCallum tell you that
he was working on behalf of Presi-
dent Williams?
He informed us that we had been
drafted into active duty under the
Presidentís orders, yes, Sir.
The crowd murmurs as Congressman #1 pounds his gavel.
SUBTITLE: Northern France.

A small, quaint village in northern France. The camera moves
along the streets as the locals go about their business.

Women carry grocery sacks; children play in the streets;
boxy European cars move about among scooters and bicycles.

Suddenly, a scream.

A FRENCH GIRL turns a corner, running and screaming.
                       FRENCH GIRL
Les morts pas! Les morts pas!
People look up to see several zombies lurching their way
around the corner, chasing after the French Girl.
                       FRENCH GIRL (cont'd)
      (Into the camera)
Les morts pas! Cíest le fin! Cíest
le fin!


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Leave Feedback
From Vic Ruthenbeck Date 4/20/2015 ***1/2
I really enjoyed your screenplay, Brian. The scenes were visual, the flow nicely paced, and the dialog remained true to their characters. I also appreciated your creative use of Zombie kills and comical use of their parts. Aside from a few grammatical oversights, I feel you brought this baby home! Keep pushing this, its bound to get picked up!

From william Date 12/6/2013 **1/2
seems just like an other zombie movie but nice twist

From TIM SMITH Date 12/30/2012 ****
nice, a couple of tweeks possibly needed, like the muslim cab driver, redneck hunter, very typical, newspapers blowing seems too expected for some reason, how about a pizza box with some fat smiling little man in the street to open the movie and then have a zombie step on it to introduce the story? secondly, when has cooking eggs ever smelled good? the comment "they look good or delicious" may be better? thanks, keep up the good work

From Connor Kelly Date 2/10/2012 ****
This was top rate like a few others i really could easily picture the scenes in my head. I can't believe that i haven't seen this script on the silver screen already. The addition of TAMI was great , but me being a fan of the movie War Games, the line ,"Do you want to play a game" gave the script some nice personality. But overall, this story is great and i wish you the best of luck and good fortune on your future endeavors, just post them here first.

From Mr. Walker Date 8/21/2011 ***1/2
Very entertaining! For me you have a great twist on the whole zombie genre. I also applaud your creativeness for leaving an open door for a sequel possibly from your ending. Characters and dialogue was great although I think at times it was way to descriptive. Keep up the good work and GL.

From Nina Date 4/22/2011 ****
This script made me fall in lust with zombies all over again. I could see myself paying theatre fare to sit in the audience yelling at the big screen over this. Very nicely and well written. Keep up the good work.

From Marques Ware Date 2/1/2011 ****
10...hey one question, whats your characeters cue? im having a hard time finding what that is

From Eliezer lopez Date 1/7/2011 ****
Absolutely brilliant! love it!

From vito jennette Date 1/6/2011 ****
My review was this~ ***1/2 stars I love this story so far. There are already so many twists. Some stories are easy to read a little and then leave and come back to. Yours made me want to finish reading before I left. I'm looking forward to where you take this concept. Dialogue flowed nicely and was realistic. Good job and keep it up!

From Ogutu David Date 12/19/2010 ****
I totally liked, been hooked totally....i love your take on the whole zombie genre of movies....different

From Bob Jaimson Date 7/5/2010 ****
Very good movie. Action in both dialogue and the story. I'm saying here that this screenplay kept me at the edge of my chair.

From dave Date 4/29/2010 ****
Great i would love to perform it on stage

From Theresa Date 4/22/2010 ****
You might want to consider reducing the description at the begining to be less wordy. It is my understanding that it is frowned up. Remember, if this is a spec script that you need to tell the story in the least amount of the right kinds of words. I have this problem also, so I know how it is.

From Jacob Reeves Date 3/22/2010 **
To much desciption, and to many over used words. Very amateur and basic, keep practicing. When Im finished with my script, The New England Hustle, you should all read it.

From Joe Thornton Date 1/4/2010 ****
so freaken awsome! good twist through the whole script.

From ron Date 8/11/2009 ***
Easy to read and great story; but I agree with a few that it's been done over and over again. Not all original ideas. best of luck.

From Patrick Albanesius Date 7/28/2009 ****
Great stuff. Really good images. Have my babies.

From Stephen Rutledge Date 7/23/2009 ****
Interesting, provocative & funny. Let me know about the casting call.

From Deborah McKinley Date 7/22/2009 ****
Zombielicious!!!!! Great imagary, loved the beginning hook! You had me before the credits rolled.

From A Coe Date 7/22/2009 ****
I could really picture what I was reading which helped me get into it. From my knowledge I think its an original idea. I also think you did well with character development and wrote the dialogue well - it was well structured and witty enough to keep me interested in a genre I usually don't follow.

From Cait cardilr Date 7/22/2009 ****
Awesome! Call me when it's made cause I'll totally be in it for you :D

From Barbara Date 7/22/2009 ****
Loved it!

From landon Date 5/23/2009 ****
very good. exciting

From Steven Reeves Date 7/26/2008 1/2
I didn't think this was all that great or original. Seems like it's derived from any John Carpenter movie, with a typical plot and cast of characters. The reason that the first commentor could picture this as a film is because he's already seen the same thing with a dozen different names.

From ralph keefer Date 7/21/2008 ****
original and great. very good and loved the plot. 4 stars!!

From Hoang-Yen H. Date 5/20/2008 ****
A very great screenplay! I read the through the whole thing, and it was easy to visualize it as a movie. The plot unwound so well and all the dialogs and directions were impressive.

From Alvaro Suarez Date 5/16/2008 ****

From David Chase Date 4/26/2008 ****
Great script, and I agree with it being an interesting take on the zombie genre. The characters were just right for the story, and the visuals made it that much easier to imagine it on screen. You've got some real ability, and I'm already looking forward to reading your next script. Well done.

From Aaron G. White Date 4/14/2008 ***1/2
Nicely written. This could very easily be picked up and made into a feature film.

From George Hartpence Date 5/30/2006 ****
hilarious take on zombie movies... fast moving plot kept me involved and the humor/imagery kept me reading for the next LOL... twisted take on a twisted genre... Can't wait to read the your next posting... till then I'll be reading "Moby Dick" with a shotgun on my lap! loved it!

From mark crellin Date 5/7/2006 ****
a great ZOMBIE movie screenplay. I loved it, the dialogue is great and the structure is top class. the characters have been handled really well and so has the plat. I could picture each scene as i read it. and that is something that i don't usually have happen to me. I feel you are going to go along way in industry. Keep up the great work.

From bastien Date 5/2/2006 ****
interesting take on the zombie movies. i think some of the visuals are cool and even funny. TAMI is a great idea. would like to see a few more hard-to-look-at, quick grotesques. and i'm a fan of things going on in the background that are unexpected. but that's me.

From David Kuyon Date 4/29/2006 ****
I didn't get to read ur entire screenplay, just a couple of pages which i think is very...very...impressive. I love the dialogue and directions, they're well crafted and unique in some sense. Keep it up and you'll land something huge, Pal.

From zanselons Date 4/29/2006 ***1/2
an interesting twist on the zombie genre film. the unfolding of the plot kept me involved, the dialogue, with a few minor subjective arguments, rang true. exposition was handled well, characters, although somewhat typical, were easy to picture, as were the scenes. i could picture this film as i read it.

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