10.

  Eli doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. The bandit leader takes another step forward and shoves him in the shoulder.

  BANDIT LEADER

  You fucking listening to me?

  ELI

  I hear you. You lay that hand on me again and you will not get it back.

  The other bandits exchange nervous looks. This is not how it’s supposed to go.

  BANDIT LEADER

  All right, I had just about enough of this shit...

  He lunges forward, grabs the shoulder strap of Eli’s pack.

  If you blinked, you missed it. But somehow Eli has now drawn his sword. A RIVULET OF BLOOD snakes down along the blade and drips onto the asphalt.

  Bandit leader’s hand is still gripped firmly around Eli’s shoulder strap. But it’s no longer connected to his arm. The SEVERED HAND hangs there from the strap, dripping blood.

  Bandit leader staggers backward and raises the bloody stump where his hand once was. Looks at it in shock and horror.

  BANDIT LEADER

  What... you just... he just cut my fucking hand off! My fucking hand!

  Eli pries the hand loose from the strap and tosses it onto the road as bandit leader’s legs give out and he slumps to the asphalt. His eyes dart around, as though confused.

  BANDIT LEADER

  What you standin’ around for? Kiss him!

  BANDIT #3

  What’s he talkin’ about, kiss him?

  ELI

  He’s in shock. He means “kill him”.

  A tense BEAT. And then the four remaining bandits ATTACK ELI ALL AT ONCE, weapons flailing.

  Eli flourishes the sword. A BLUR, TOO FAST TO FOLLOW. But it’s clear he is possessed of an inhuman level of skill.

  11.

  It is over in moments. The four bandits LAY SLAIN IN THE

  ROAD, blood pooling out onto the asphalt.

  The bandit leader crawls toward his severed hand, a few yards away. Eli steps in and kicks it out of his reach.

  ELI

  I told you you wouldn’t be getting that back.

  Bandit leader looks up to see the figure of Eli bearing down on him, silhouetted ominously against the sun. He looks for a moment like an avenging angel, something not of this world.

  BANDIT LEADER

  Who are you?

  ELI

  My name is Eli.

  And with that, Eli runs him through with his sword.

  He turns to see the young woman slumped in the road, sobbing.

  She cowers again as he approaches, certain that she is next.

  He WALKS PAST HER. Sheathes his sword, then pulls out the shopping cart from the ditch and rights it. The woman watches incredulously as he gathers up her supplies into the cart.

  ELI

  Take it and go on your way. And don’t fall in with men like these again. No good can come.

  She looks at him, puzzled.

  YOUNG WOMAN

  Why are you doing this?

  Eli says nothing. Walks back to the slain bandits, crouches beside them and begins searching their bodies.

  He takes a scarf from around the neck of one. Finds a Zippo lighter on another, checks that it works and pockets it.

  LATER

  The five bodies are lined neatly in the ditch, half-covered with dirt. The best burial they are going to get.

  Eli stands before them, head bowed in prayer. He speaks quietly and quickly, a speech he has given many times.

  12.

  ELI

  God, the father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the holy spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins.

  The young woman stands a few yards away, watching him, transfixed. She has never seen anyone like him.

  ELI

  Through the ministry of the church may he give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit. Amen.

  He turns and walks away down the road, passing the woman.

  YOUNG WOMAN

  Thank you. You’re... a good man.

  ELI

  There are no good men on the road.

  YOUNG WOMAN

  Where are you going?

  ELI

  West.

  YOUNG WOMAN

  Can... can I come with you?

  He doesn’t even turn back to look at her.

  ELI

  No.

  He walks on, into the horizon.

  EXT. FREEWAY OVERPASS - DAY

  Straddling the desert like a giant, crumbling monument to a long-dead civilization. Eli steadily climbs his way up.

  He comes to an abrupt stop as we realize suddenly that the overpass has COLLAPSED at mid-point. RUSTED IRON RODS jut out from where the roadway has been severed.

  Eli just stands there at the edge for a moment, feeling the wind whip around him, his coat fluttering in the breeze.

  13.

  The overpass’s collapsed section is now just a MOUNTAINOUS

  PILE OF RUBBLE that leads down to the road below.

  Eli steps onto the rubble. About to make his way down when he FREEZES. He hears something. The faintest of sounds. He takes cover, peering down at the road beneath the overpass to see: TWO PEOPLE walking together on the road. We see everything from ELI’S P.O.V. - too far to make out much detail, but apparently it is a MIDDLE-AGED COUPLE.

  The man pushes along an OLD WHEELBARROW covered by a tarp as the woman, seemingly his wife, walks alongside. The barrow’s rusted wheel gives out a plaintive, rhythmic SQUEAK.

  Eli ducks down again as he hears something else. This time much louder. The menacing growl of MOTORCYCLE ENGINES.

  FOUR BIKES IN TOTAL. Riding out of the horizon, closing in on the couple. They see the bikes coming and panic. Try desperately to steer the barrow off the road.

  The bikes screech to a halt and the FOUR RIDERS dismount.

  Brandishing a variety of weapons. The couple make a run for it but they’re quickly chased down and tackled to the ground.

  The woman SCREAMS and struggles helplessly as the bikers swarm over the man like a pack of predatory animals.

  The woman is pulled to the ground and the clothes stripped from her. Eli turns away. He knows what comes next.

  Eli listens as the woman screams and screams. He reaches for his shotgun... hesitates... then withdraws his hand.

  ELI

  It ain’t your concern. Stay on the path. It ain’t your concern. Stay on the path.

  Eli repeats it like a mantra. He clearly wants to intervene, but will not permit himself to. Instead, he simply sits and waits grimly as the woman continues to scream for help. And then finally, suddenly, is silenced.

  Down below, the bodies of the man and woman lay dead and bloodied in the dirt. The bikers tear the tarp from the wheelbarrow, spilling its contents onto the asphalt.

  They ferret through the items, scavenging a few items - we don’t see what - and stuffing them into an old cloth satchel.

  They leave the rest strewn in the road and ride off in the direction they came, dust pluming in their wake.

  14.

  Eli waits until the sound of the motorcycles has receded into the far distance before emerging from his hiding place.

  EXT. ROAD BENEATH OVERPASS - DAY

  Eli crouches on one knee before the murdered couple. He signs a cross over their ravaged bodies as he mutters a prayer under his breath. Then stands and continues on down the road.

  EXT. ROAD FORK - DAY

  More desolate wasteland as far as the eye can see. The road forks again here. Eli arrives at the junction and stops.

  The road Eli is on leads further into the west. The other fork heads toward a SMALL TOWN just visible on the horizon.

  A HAND-PAINTED SIGN has been driven into the dirt nearby. No words, just a series of CRUDE PICTOGRAMS. A BED. A PLATE OF

  FOOD. A WATER FAUCET. AN ARROW points toward the town.

  Eli pauses, thinking it over. Retrieves the iPod from his pocket. Clicks the button, but no response. He sighs.

  He turns and heads down the other fork, toward town.

  EXT. DESERT TOWN - OUTSKIRTS - DAY

  A primitive, sprawling village of tents and barn-like structures. Built from corrugated iron, rotted wood, molded plastic, tarpaulin - materials scavenged from the old world.

  HUDDLED RESIDENTS are dressed in little more than rags, many wearing goggles like Eli’s to shield their eyes from the sun.

  Eli stands at the edge of town. Reluctant to enter, but he braces himself and walks on in. And as he rounds a corner, entering the center of town, an astonishing sight: EXT. DESERT TOWN - MAIN STREET - CONTINUOUS

  The broad thoroughfare now all that remains of whatever town once stood here. Many of the old storefronts still largely intact but patched up with salvaged materials. The asphalt street warped and cracked, parking meters bent and smashed.

  It’s a lot like the abandoned town Eli passed through earlier, except VERY MUCH ALIVE - BUSTLING WITH TOWNSFOLK.

  It’s at once a familiar and also a disturbing sight - like an old Norman Rockwell painting of classic small-town America, but filtered through the devastating eye of an apocalypse. An unsettling juxtaposition of the old world and the new.

  15.

  The centerpiece of the town is a GRAND THEATER at the head of the main street. THE PALLADIUM. Like the rest of the town, badly damaged and shoddily fixed-up. But still standing.

  Eli walks down the street and approaches a BLACKSMITH, hammering out a metal plate over an anvil outside his store.

  ELI

  You got an engineer or a fuelman around here?

  The blacksmith doesn’t look up from his work but motions toward a storefront at the far end of the street.

  ELI

  Thanks.

  Eli heads down the street. Stopping when he comes across a STATUE erected in the center of the road. A TALL MAN crudely fashioned in clay. One hand placed paternally on the head of a SMALL CHILD, the other outstretched toward the sun.

  As he observes the statue, Eli notices that passing residents take a moment to PAUSE AND GENUFLECT before it. Worshipping.

  Curious, Eli reaches up and runs his hand over the statue’s face. Then hears SHUFFLING FEET behind him and turns as a PARADE OF EMACIATED MEN AND WOMEN trudges past. Roped together at the waist, each man leading the one behind.

  Heads shaved, thin from malnutrition. And each one BLIND.

  They gaze at the ground with pale, dead eyes. They carry picks, shovels and other tools - a sightless CHAIN GANG.

  Eli watches as the pathetic parade shuffles past, herded like cattle by a brutish CHAIN GANG BOSS who swats at them with a stick to keep them moving and indicate direction.

  CHAIN GANG BOSS

  Come on, move it!

  The gang boss glares at Eli as he passes by. Eli doesn’t return the look, just continues crossing the street as the blind are herded away. Headed toward a wooden building with a pictogram of a LIGHTNING BOLT suspended above the door.

  INT. ENGINEER WORKSHOP - CONTINUOUS

  Whatever this place once was, it’s now a kind of POST-APOCALYPTIC RADIO SHACK. Shelves display a variety of goods.

  Engine parts. Old electrical wiring. Small appliances.

  An old ELECTRIC GENERATOR rumbles noisily, powering strings of multi-colored CHRISTMAS LIGHTS that hang all around.

  16.

  Behind the main counter a convoluted Rube Goldberg-esque STILL is running. An ENGINEER in a leather apron pours the remnants of a can of motor oil into the still’s funnel.

  Attached to the still is an old MOTORCYCLE MIRROR. In its reflection the engineer sees Eli checking out the store.

  Without turning around, he reaches surreptitiously behind the counter for something.

  Eli turns toward the counter - to find the engineer training a PUMP-ACTION SHOTGUN right at him.

  ENGINEER

  I don’t know you.

  Eli slowly raises his hands.

  ELI

  I’m not from around here.

  ENGINEER

  No shit. Who are you?

  ELI

  I’m just a customer.

  ENGINEER

  A customer with a shotgun?

  He nods toward the shotgun visible on Eli’s backpack.

  ENGINEER

  You come in here to rip me off?

  The engineer’s hands tremble, his finger tight on the trigger. This man needs to be talked down carefully.

  ELI

  No. I’ll set it down. Okay?

  ENGINEER

  Slowly!

  Eli nods. Unhitches the pack and sets it down, steps away.

  ENGINEER

  You carry a gun in the outland, you don’t bring one into town less you live there. Don’t you know that?

  ELI

  I’m sorry, I forgot. I’ve been on the road a long time.

  17.

  This seems to make the engineer more suspicious of Eli.

  ENGINEER

  Show me your hand.

  ELI

  I’m not a-

  The engineer jerks the shotgun at Eli nervously.

  ENGINEER

  I said show me your fucking hand!

  Eli raises his hand and holds it outstretched, palm faced downward. The engineer watches it closely for any sign of ticks or tremors, but Eli’s hand stays steady as a rock.

  ELI

  I’m not one of them.

  The sight of the steady hand seems to reassure the engineer a little. Finally, he lowers the shotgun.

  ENGINEER

  What do you want?

  ELI

  I’m just passing through. I need some help. I can pay.

  ENGINEER

  What kinda help? And what kinda pay?

  ELI

  I’m going to get something out of my pack. Okay?

  The engineer raises the shotgun nervously again.

  ELI

  I know, I know. Slowly.

  The engineer watches him like a hawk as Eli opens up his pack and pulls out the car battery. When he sees it, he gasps.

  ENGINEER

  Holy shit.

  Eli places it on the counter. The engineer looks it over with awe, like it’s a priceless historical artifact.

  ENGINEER

  Where’d you find this?

  18.

  ELI

  Years ago, in the outland back east aways.

  ENGINEER

  Does it work?

  ELI

  Yeah, it just needs a charge. Can you do it? I got the cables.

  ENGINEER

  Depends if you also got the coin.

  Eli pulls the Zippo lighter from his pocket. The engineer picks it up, sparks the flint, watches the flame flicker.

  ENGINEER

  It’ll take a couple hours. There’s a bar across the street you can wait, they just opened up.

  ELI

  I’ll wait here.

  ENGINEER

  You don’t trust me?

  ELI

  (smiles)

  I don’t know you.

  INT. PALLADIUM - AUDITORIUM - DAY

  This once grand theater have been largely gutted - seats torn out, fixtures and fittings stripped, curtains ripped from the stage. But still, there’s a sense of grandeur to this place.

  Looking out over the stage, a ROYAL BOX - once the most prestigious seat in the house - has been converted into an OFFICE of sorts. Seats removed and replaced by an ORNATE

  MAHOGANY DESK facing inward, a CHANDELIER suspended above it.

  The whole set-up is gaudy and ostentatious - the work of someone who wants to project an aura of power and wealth, but has no taste whatsoever.

  A TALL MAN is seated in a battered leather armchair behind the desk, deeply involved in an OLD PAPERBACK BOOK.

  The book’s cover is faded and partially torn away, the title still just visible: 7 HABITS OF HIGHLY EFFECTIVE PEOPLE.

  19.

  The man is OLDER than most we’ve seen. His skin weathered by the elements and by a long life’s experience. One of the very few people we’ve seen in this world close to Eli’s age - and unlike everyone else we’ve seen, he appears healthy and well-groomed. A rich mane of hair, full set of teeth.

  He wears a tattered SUIT AND TIE. None of it matches, everything scavenged from different outfits and eras. But he looks almost civilized. Respectable. His name is CARNEGIE.

  He looks up from his book at the sound of a POLITE COUGH O.S.

  REDRIDGE stands before him. Tall, powerfully built.

  CARNEGIE

  What is it?

  His accent is like caramel. A RICH, DEEP-SOUTH DRAWL.

  REDRIDGE

  Survey team just finished up their inspection. It ain’t good.

  Carnegie lowers his book. Concerned.

  CARNEGIE

  How bad is it?

  REDRIDGE

  Pressure is down again, and going by the new rod they sank levels’re lower than they’ve ever been.

  Carnegie stands. Thinking. This is bad news.

  CARNEGIE

  How long?

  REDRIDGE

  Hard to say. Six months, maybe. A little longer if we’re careful. But we’re already-CARNEGIE

  Halve the rations.

  REDRIDGE

  We just halved ‘em last-

  CARNEGIE

  So halve them again!

  BEAT. Carnegie stares Redridge down. Nobody but nobody questions his orders.

  20.

  REDRIDGE

  You’re going to have to say

  something. Folks were none too happy last time. Gonna be worse now, you can count on it.

  Carnegie sighs, rubs his brow. He knows Redridge is right.

  EXT. DESERT TOWN - MAIN STREET - DAY

  A LARGE CROWD OF TOWNSFOLK - several hundred strong - has assembled outside the Palladium theater. AN ARMED CREW OF

  CARNEGIE’S GOONS keeps watch over the crowd.

  Carnegie stands on a BALCONY above the theater marquee. He treats the balcony like a pulpit, speaking through a MICROPHONE connected to an old PA SYSTEM that carries his words to the far reaches of the crowd.

  CARNEGIE

  I want you all to remember how far we’ve come together. And how far we still can go, if only we believe.