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"Dead Billy" first 10 pages

"Dead Billy" first 10 pages

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Published by Scotty Milder
The first 10 pages of "Dead Billy," and independent feature film written by Scott Milder.
The first 10 pages of "Dead Billy," and independent feature film written by Scott Milder.

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Published by: Scotty Milder on Jun 12, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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03/15/2014

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FADE IN:EXT. MOUNTAIN HIGHWAY - NIGHT
RACING 
down a windy mountain highway.HEADLIGHTS slash through the murk. Tall pine trees and jaggedboulders WHIZ past--STATIC. VOICES buried in the drone--Faster...
Faster--
FLASHBACK. INT. TRAILER HOME - DAYBILLY -- early 50s, skinny, wearing an oversized green Armyjacket -- sits stooped in silhouette on an old sofa againstthe window, nothing visible beyond a hooklike slash of noseand a pair of gleaming, diamond-chip eyes.Sunlight streams through moth-eaten curtains behind him.BILLYHey...He drags on a cigarette. Embers FLARE in the gloom.FLASHBACK. INT. TRAILER HOME - BATHROOM - DAYCALLIE, 18, stands in front of the cracked, dirt-spackled mirror. Her dark hair hangs in ropy tendrils.She looks down at her hands. Blood streaks across herfingers, palms, wrists, forms Rorschach patterns all alongthe front of her white tank top.In a daze, she turns on the faucet and sticks her hands intothe sputtering stream of rusty water--BACK TO PRESENT. EXT. MOUNTAIN HIGHWAY - NIGHT
FASTER--
We EXPLODE over a rise----a MUSHROOM CLOUD rips across the jagged tree line----The STATIC collapses into the CRACKLING BLARE of a TV--
 
REPORTER (O.S.)--
already unstable, but teetering on what appears to be a meltdown--
SOUND BRIDGE TO:BACK TO PRESENT. INT. APARTMENT - KITCHEN - DAYCLOSE ONA tiny TV on the counter. IMAGES of devastation, waterplowing through city streets, cars swept away like toys,people running for their lives.A NUCLEAR POWER PLANT belches flames--REPORTER (O.S.)
--Following the quake and thetsunami came the blast at theRawatbhata Nuclear Power Station.Reports that the roof of one of thereactors caved in offered aworrying sign--
WIDERCALLIOPE GIRARD -- 25, slight and pretty, with long dark hairand wide brown eyes -- stands at the counter, knife in hand.Tears STREAM from her eyes.A half-chopped onion sits on the board in front of her.Something SIZZLES, forgotten, in a pan nearby. Calliopestares at the TV as she chops.REPORTER (O.S.) (CONT’D)--
that the containment building may have been breached--
--A door SLAMS. Calliope jerks. She HISSES in pain, looksdown to see BLOOD beading in the webbing betwee her thumb andforefinger.ROY -- early 30s, African American, tall and solid-looking --enters the kitchen from the living room.ROY (O.S.)Holy
shit
, that smells
good--
 He sees the burning pan, the blood, the knife--2.
 
ROY (CONT’D)Oh--He thrusts the pan into the sink, takes her hand in his.ROY (CONT’D)What happened?She shakes her head, confused.CALLIOPEI guess my hand slipped.He guides her hand under the faucet. Blood swirls in thesink, mixes with whatever she had been cooking.ROYYou might need a stitch.He shuts the water off. Blood wells in the split fleshbetween her thumb and forefinger. She grabs a paper towel.Roy looks at the remains of whatever was in the pan.ROY (CONT’D)Well.(dubious)It looked good, at least.She laughs.CALLIOPENice try. I’ve never been knownfor making food that
looks good 
.ROYAll right, you got me.She looks ruefully at the pan.CALLIOPEIt would have tasted nice, though.ROYYou okay?She lifts the towel. The bleeding has slowed to a trickle.CALLIOPEI think it’s all right.She offers a tight smile.3.

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