"k" — a screenplay, excerpt 1 INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT It's very quiet except for the TICKING grandfather clock. David enters and the lights turn on. He's groggy. Through the clear walls, we watch him move into the kitchen. DAVID Coffee. A coffee machine quietly WHIRRS into action. He pulls down a mug, then goes back into the living room. Looks around, unsettled, unsure. Glances at the grandfather clock -- 4:17 a.m. DAVID Video call, Ulricke. The big wall-screen HUMS to life. And we hear a BUSY SIGNAL. Some things never change. DAVID Redial. Again, BUSY. As David heads into the kitchen, pours his coffee and returns to the living room, he says: DAVID Voicemail, Tommy. (pause) Tommy, David. I'm getting a busy to New York. I'm sure the system's just overloaded again, but check it out anyway. Thanks, Tommy. How's Lizzy doing? Feeling better? (pause) Send. He takes a sip of coffee, looks at the clock. DAVID Video call, Ul -- But someone's at the door. David freezes. Stares at the door. Opens it. It's Victor... wearing a face of utter fear. INT. IO COMMAND CENTER - DAY David stares blankly at the President's face on the wall-screen. David's HEARING is numb, FADING IN and OUT... PRESIDENT ... plague from hell... three billion... The screen now projects a spinning hologram of the Earth. Which slows down and unfolds into a flat representation of the planet. A black dot appears over New York City. David moves to the hologram. Another dot appears over another city, then another, and another, until there are so many black dots, the world looks black and blue, blue being water. David puts his finger on New York. The earth refolds into a globe and resumes spinning around his finger... A dark whirling mass... Through the hologram we see David, motionless. And behind David, watching him, a distressed Victor. FADE OUT. FADE IN TO: DAVID'S FACE Dark, hard eyes stare out from behind his phone-glasses. His now-bearded face looks older, tired. Smiling seems to be in his past. A clear, plastic-like material encases him. REVEAL: INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT With David in the driver's seat. His THREE PASSENGERS are also enveloped in the clear material. EXT. ROAD - NIGHT David is in a large Winnebago-like truck, which leads a fleet of trucks. Tons of abandoned cars are pushed to the sides of the road. A title reads: ONE MONTH LATER... 10 BILLION DEAD... AND COUNTING... "k" — a screenplay, excerpt 2 EXT. STREET - LATE AFTERNOON David and Grace drag their tired carcasses into the dusk. INT. SUBWAY STATION - MINUTES LATER A dark void, like the city. A light moves against a wall, revealing a bench. David and Grace fall onto that bench, exhausted, bleeding, in pain. GRACE Thanks. Now get away from me! David looks down, sees his torn biosuit. He looks at her bloody leg, then at her. He opens his biosuit, starts to RIP his shirt. Grace watches him, breathing hard, shivering. GRACE Did you hear me? Now! Her fury mounts. He's just sitting there messing with his shirt? There are so many words she'd like to hurl at him, yet they collide with each other, until all that's left is: GRACE You bastard. She takes out her walkie-talkie... DAVID Don't. They can probably trace -- GRACE Shut up! ... but the walkie-talkie's been crushed anyway. GRACE Great. Thanks a lo -- But she's getting dizzy, her eyes losing it. She collapses onto David. DAVID Grace! He checks her. Alive. He leans her against the back of the bench. Ties the ripped piece of shirt around her wound... And sees the blood that's trickled down her leg... To her shoe... To the floor... Along the platform... Through the entrance gate... And up the stairs...