Screenplay by Mark Protosevich

based on the novel by Richard Matheson

In 1995, researchers at the University of Kansas used

viruses linked to healthy respiratory cells to destroy and

replace diseased cells in patients afflicted with lung

cancer.

In 1997, scientists at the Krippen Center for Genetic

Research in Berkeley, California made a significant

stride forward. By manipulating the genetic

information in a common blood cell and infusing it

with the characteristics of a potent virus, they were

able to create a biological warrior cell--the viragene.

Once introduced into a host, the viragene could hunt

and obliterate the body's natural enemies--tumors,

thickening arteries, decaying bone. Anything. The

'enemy' would be consumed, digested, and

transformed into energy to fuel the viragene. It was a

perfect tool. And the possibilities were limitless. AIDS,

cancer, muscular dystrophy, even the flu--the viragene

could beat them all.

The first human trials began in March of 1998. The

initial trial group, dubbed the 'Krippen Ten', were

afflicted with leukemia. These individuals, along with

Dr. Krippen, were about to make more than medical

history. They were to forever change the course of

humanity.

"Being unconquerable lies with yourself; being conquerable lies with the enemy."

Sun Tzu, The Art of War.

"We used to wonder where war lived, what it was that made it so vile. And now we realize

that we know where it lives. That it is inside ourselves."

Albert Camus, Notebooks.

"'Let there be light!' said God, and there was light. 'Let there be blood!' says man, and

there's a sea!"

Lord Byron, Don Juan.

A VIDEO IMAGE FLICKERS TO LIFE. A ruggedly handsome man with dark, haunted eyes. Eyes that have seen hell.

NEVILLE

My name is Robert Neville. Today is October 17th,

the year 2002. I was born in 1960, on this very day,

so that makes today my birthday. (remembering)

Every year for my birthday, my wife Ellen would throw

me a party. A kid's party. Cake, ice cream, funny hats,

"Pin the Tail on the Donkey". One year she rented a pony.

It didn't matter that we were grown-ups and this was all

kind of silly to the neighbors. She just did things like that.

She brought such joy into everything she did, everything

she touched... (too nostalgic) I am forty-two today.

I feel fine. I feel fit. My mental state is... pretty good.

(withdraws) Let's start over. (focuses)

My name is Robert Neville. I was born forty-two years

ago in Des Moines, Iowa. I had a wife Ellen and a daughter

Grace. My father's name was Bill and my mother's

Charlotte. They were farm people.

I hope... Someday... When someone finds these tapes...

You will know who I was. What I was about.

What I tried to do. What I try to do. (withdraws)

I think I killed six last night.

THE VIDEO IMAGE TURNS TO STATIC.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - DAY

ROBERT NEVILLE switches off the VIDEO CAMERA pointed at him. He collapses the tripod and rests the apparatus in a corner. He wears shorts, a t-shirt, tennis shoes. He slices a CD into an impressive MUSIC SYSTEM and Mahler's "Resurrection" Symphony BLASTS from speakers throughout the house.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - EXERCISE ROOM - DAY

A serious workout facility. Weights, boxer's heavy bag, rowing machine, etc. Neville pushes himself through a series of strenuous exercises. His body is in fantastic shape. Taught muscle. Lean, not bulky. His movements are lithe, almost graceful. More track athlete than body builder.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - SHOWER - DAY

Neville washes his body and we notice the SCARS. On his ankles, wrists, neck, stomach, back. A few are the results of crude stitches, the others... Bite marks ? Scratches ?

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - LIBRARY - DAY

Neville passes shelves filled with COMPACT DISCS, AUDIO CASSETTES, and VIDEOTAPES. Another section filled with BOOKS and PAINTINGS. Only a carefully selected few hang on the walls--Degas, Klee, Rothko, Van Gogh. The rest are stacked like pallets. They must be copies. Mustn't they?

A TELEVISION gives us the "Today Show", A RADIO, NPR's "Morning Edition", "Resurrection" in the background. A wall of sound. The sound of everyday life. Normal life. Neville descends a SPIRAL STAIRCASE leading to the GROUND FLOOR.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - GREENHOUSE - DAY

Neville strolls the aisles of a hothouse. Vegetables, fruit, herbs, potatoes. All in carefully compartmentalized lots. Panes of glass on the roof allow in SUNLIGHT.

Neville notices a loose screw on a shutter and pulls a SQUARE of METAL from his pocket. It's an ALL-IN-ONE-TOOL--something Neville is never without. Only two inches-by-two inches, it has a screwdriver tip, a serrated 'saw' edge, a knife edge, magnifying glass, etc.

Neville tightens the screw, holds the tool in his teeth--a habit--and makes sure the window is shut tight. Neville picks a few strawberries, checks the Condition of a tomato plant, and trims a vine with the knife side of the tool.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY

Neville sits at a table eating a bowl of oatmeal with fresh s-strawberries, sipping a cup of coffee. On a wall mounted TELEVISION, Katie Couric and Bryant Gumbel. Neville watches

with an almost disturbing gaze. He mouths along with them, somehow anticipating the "live"

dialogue...

NEVILLE / KATIE

And for those of us who'd like to lose a

few pounds, Dr. Art Ulene will be here to

tell us about his new weight loss plan...

(If we paid attention we'd notice the information contained in the TV show and radio "broadcast" is old and familiar. We know these stories. There's nothing "new" about the news.)

Outside, we HEAR a DOG BARKING.

Neville enters a ROOM adjacent to the kitchen--a state-of-the-art MEDICAL FACILITY. Operating table, pharmacy, I.V.s, EKG, surgical equipment, you name it. He uses a hypodermic to withdraw BLOOD from his arm. He fills two plastic vials and tosses the syringe into a BIOHAZARD waste bin.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - DAY

Spartan. Bed, reading lamp, a few books. A PHOTO of his wife and child. on the wall, an HISTORICAL PAINTING showing Napoleon's surrender at Waterloo. Nearby, within a second's grasp from bedside, are a SHOTGUN and a .44 MAGNUM.

At a closet filled with very few clothes--all the same type--Neville loses the robe and steps into a BLACK TIGHT-FITTING BODYSUIT. Similar to a diver's wetsuit, but the material is more flexible. It's some type of protective undergarment, composed of a Kevlar-like mesh.

He dons a Kevlar vest, a work shirt and durable pants. He slips on combat boots, tucks the pants into them, and TAPES THEM . He adds a "utility" belt and fits the BLOOD VIALS into a secure pouch. He straps on two wristwatches and chains an ELECTRONIC POCKET WATCH to his belt. Again, the DOG BARKS outside.

NEVILLE

All right, all right. Keep your fur on.

He picks up a REMOTE CONTROL and switches off the TV, radio, and music. It's replaced by an EERIE SILENCE.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - GARAGE - DAY

A no-frills underground garage. A LAND ROVER, SPORTS CAR, and MOTORCYCLE. (Now shut off, the walls are lined with HALOGEN LAMPS.) Neville walks to an electronic control panel and hits a button. The garage door opens, but it doesn't open vertically. Instead, a horizontal panel slides back, parallel with the earth's surface, revealing a slanted cement ramp leading to the garage below.

SUNLIGHT pours in from above. The DOG BARKS. A MUSCULAR CANINE silhouetted at the top. Neville WHISTLES. The dog bounds down the ramp, delighted to see its master. Neville reacts coldly. No, "Hi, boy, how ya doin'?!" Nothing. We know the dog wants a reaction, but Neville is firm. He opens a CABINET, grabs a bag, and pours some chow. The dog hungrily devours his breakfast and Neville sees the bag is empty. He opens ANOTHER and finds it's CRAWLING WITH ANTS.

NEVILLE

Terrific.

He dumps the infested bag into a trash Container. Neville whistles and points to the Land Rover. The dog leaps into the vehicle. Neville shuts the passenger door and we see the Rover has been customized. The roof, hood, doors, and trunk are crisscrossed with BARBED WIRE. All windows--save the windshield, and that is protected by chicken wire--have been replaced by THICK METAL PLATES. SLITS are cut into the steel, but visibility is limited.

INT. LAND ROVER - DAY

Neville climbs behind the wheel. The interior of the vehicle is outfitted with emergency medical supplies, flares, heavy-duty flashlights, lamps, rope, wire, tools. The dog settles an a blanket an the floor. Neville hits a few switches and CLOSED-CIRCUIT MONITORS flicker to life. Via video, they show the side and rear views from the Land Rover. Neville starts her up and the souped-up engine ROARS to life. We stay within the Land Rover as it ascends the ramp.

NEVILLE

(donning sunglasses)

Another beautiful day.

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY

The Land Rover speeds along. We vaguely recognize the road as one of streets of SAN FRANCISCO, but something's wrong. The road is in great disrepair and littered with debris. The trees are barren, the area deathly silent, and there is absolutely no other traffic.

INT. LAND ROVER - DAY

Neville continues to listen to Resurrection an the Rover's CD player. He spots a DRIVE-WAY and turns into it.

EXT. RADIO STATION - DAY

High on a hill sits an abandoned broadcasting facility and tower. This too is in utter disrepair. The Land Rover is parked outside, the dog an guard. A desolate wind whistles.

INT. RADIO STATION - BASEMENT - DAY

Very familiar with the equipment, Neville connects wires, throws switches, and powers up the EMERGENCY GENERATOR.

INT. RADIO STATION - DJ BOOTH / CONTROL ROOM - DAY

Neville adjusts the mixing panel and takes a seat behind a microphone. (Throughout this scene we will notice that the radio station looks like a tornado blew through it.)

NEVILLE

Good Morning San Francisco. Big Bob Neville

here with you this morning, as I am every morning.

Monday through Sunday, seven days a week, three

hundred and sixty five fucking days a year. Traffic?

There is none. Weather? Who cares. News? I'm still

alive. What about you, San Francisco? How 'bout

giving me a call? 1-800-F-U-C-K-Y-O-U.

He glances to his right. The Telephone switchboard panel is shattered, dead, covered with dust.

NEVILLE

Wow. The board's lit up like a Christmas tree.

Too bad our time is up. If you would like to see

me in the flesh, however, I'll be doing a personal

appearance this afternoon at Golden Gate Park.

Today and every day. 12 Noon. All you have to do

is show up. (dead air) Please (more silence, then

pops a tape cart into a player) I leave you today

with one of my favorites. I know you're sick of the

fact that I only play classical music, but frankly, I don't

care. I like it. And right now... that's all that matters.

An Eric Satie piano concerto. Melancholy and haunting.

EXT. DOWNTOWN STREETS- VARIOUS - DAY

MUSIC CONTINUES as the Land Rover cruises through the heart of the city. We don't spend much time here and it's frustrating, because we can't fully comprehend the visual make-up of downtown. The streets are deserted, litter and dust blow freely with the wind and the buildings look ravaged. Looted? Burned? Destroyed by earthquake?

EXT. PET STORE - DAY

Neville and the dog exit the Rover and for the first time we notice Neville wears a shoulder holster containing a .45 automatic. and carries an M-16 machine gun. A high-intensity flashlight is attached to the machine gun barrel and extra ammo clips taped to its handle.

INT. PET STORE - DAY

Merchandise is scattered on the floor--chew toys, plastic bones, etc.--and the dog is drawn to it. Neville whistles and the dog obeys, disappointed. Neville switches on the flashlight and heads for a STORAGE ROOM.

INT. PET STORE - STORAGE ROOM - DAY

Neville KICKS IN the door. The flashlight beam dances to all corners. Nothing but old supplies. The dog prances in and leads Neville to the bags of chow. He hefts them onto his shoulder. Whistles. The dog doesn't follow. His vision is locked on a thick piece of rawhide. He turns his sad eyes to Neville, who gives in, nods. The dog happily grabs it between his teeth.

EXT. GOLDEN GATE PARK - DAY

The monuments still remain, but the grass is scorched, tall, and dry. Neville eats a sandwich he made at home and the dog chews the rawhide. Neville checks his watch. 12:45. Scans the area. Absolutely no one in sight. Forlornly, he stares at the ground, the cracks in the pavement... Alone.

EXT. DOWNTOWN STREET - DAY

The streets are abandoned, buildings deserted. The Land Rover parked at an intersection, the dog on lookout. Neville stands beneath a lamp post, a coil of WIRE over his shoulder. He measures a length, tosses it over the arm of the post, and creates an old-fashioned SNAPE out of the cable. He adjusts, tightens, and pulls one of the vials of blood from his utility belt. He takes a rag, douses it with the blood, and positions it as "bait" in the snare. Satisfied with the trap, he whistles for the dog and returns to the Land Rover.

EXT. ANOTHER STREET - DAY

Neville sets another snare.

EXT. DEPARTMENT STORE - DAY

The Land Rover pulls to a stop in front of what used to be Nieman-Marcus. Right now, it looks like a ghetto tenement.

INT. LAND ROVER - DAY

Neville's eyes are glued to something across the street...

EXT. STREET - DAY

A BODY dangles from one of Neville's traps--one he must have set a previous day. It hangs limply, ankle ensnared by the cable, its head hanging a few feet above the ground.

EXT. LAND ROVER / STREET - DAY

With the dog at his heels, Neville chambers a round in the .45 and approaches the body.

ANOTHER ANGLE

Quite abruptly, we are watching Neville from across the street, HIGH ABOVE, from a sixth or seventh story window. We HEAR movement and labored breathing.

BACK ON THE STREET

Neville reaches the body and spins it around. As soon as he sees the face of a MANNEQUIN, he knows he's fucked.

THE HIGH ANGLE

We HEAR a bolt slide on a rifle and we realize we're watching Neville through a SNIPER'S SCOPE. Neville's chest dead in our sights. We FIRE.

BACK ON THE STREET

Neville hits the dirt. The first bullet EXPLODES in asphalt. Neville rolls. The second bullet just misses him. He DASHES behind an abandoned car, escaping yet another shot from the sniper. The dog stands in the middle of the street, BARKING at an upper story window in Nieman-Marcus. Neville shouts...

NEVILLE

GET OUT OF THE STREET!

The dog continues to , its eyes on a specific section of the building. Neville steals a glance and sees a RIFLE BARREL poking out of a shattered window frame. ANOTHER SHOT whistles past the dog's fur. The beast flinches, afraid.

NEVILLE

GET OVER HERE!

He waves his arm and the dog comes running to his side. He pulls the dog close to him, sheltering him from the gunfire.

NEVILLE

Dumbest goddamm dog I ever had.

BLAM! A bullet HITS the car. Neville is pinned down.

NEVILLE

Great, Bob, just great.

He looks at the pistol in his hand. It's useless against a rifle. And unfortunately, the machine gun is in the Land Rover. He can't make a move. Unless...

Along the curb, hidden from the sniper's view, is a storm drain. Neville inches his way toward it and slithers inside. The dog tries to follow, but Neville motions for him to stay and speak. The dog understands and BARKS at the sniper.

INT. STORM DRAIN TUNNEL - DAY

Crouching down, Neville is able to scurry to the other side of the street. He inches his way through a crevice.

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - DAY

Neville crawls into a dilapidated BATHROOM in the store's first basement. The plumbing has been backed up for god knows how long and Neville can barely tolerate the stench.

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - FIRST BASEMENT - DAY

What used to be "Housewares." Neville spies the no-longer-functioning escalators and strides upwards.

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - ESCALATORS - VARIOUS - DAY

Neville reaches the fourth floor. We catch glimpses of BIZARRE GRAFFITI, but mostly we're taken aback by the sheer emptiness of the store.

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - SEVENTH FLOOR - DAY

Neville creeps up the escalator. He HEARS the sniper, but it's difficult to see anything because the windows in this section have been covered with sheets of cardboard, blankets, and plywood. The only light is a tiny shaft coming through the cracked pane the shooter is using for his rifle.

The shooter himself is bundled in rags. Gloves cover his hands, a parka hood hides his head, and a scarf shields his face. We see no details, only a shape. in a corner is a sort of "tent' made from bedsheets and blankets.

The sniper watches the street. Faintly, we HEAR the dog BARKING. The sniper SHOOTS. A distant ping!--the bullet hits the abandoned car. Neville gauges his surroundings, his enemy. Thinks. Positions himself about twenty feet behind the sniper. Locks target with the .45.

NEVILLE

Hey.

The sniper jumps, turns around, and shakes in his shoes at the sight of Neville. He fumbles with the rifle.

NEVILLE

Ah-ah-ah.

The sniper stops. It's no use--he'd never be quick enough.

NEVILLE

Slide the gun over here.

The sniper has no choice. He sets the rifle on the floor and shoves it at Neville, who quickly examines it.

NEVILLE

A hunter's gun. Where'd you find it?

No reply. Neville points the .45, SHOOTS and blasts the window behind the shooter. Glass explodes and SUNLIGHT pours into the room. The sniper SCREAMS with fright and scurries for darkness. Neville aims his pistol at another window.

NEVILLE

(a threat)

Where?

SNIPER

(his voice a raspy hiss)

Up north. In the mountains, a cabin.

NEVILLE

You're not part of Cortman's bunch.

SNIPER

Who?

NEVILLE

Never mind. In the mountains...

Were there people? Like me?

SNIPER

If there were, we wouldn't have had to

come to the city, now, would we?

NEVILLE

You're a smart one.

SNIPER

Thank you.

NEVILLE

You said "we."

The sniper realizes his error. Goes tight-lipped.

NEVILLE

How many?

No answer. Neville flips back the top of the "tent" and sees three sleeping areas.

NEVILLE

Where are they?

The sniper refuses to respond. Neville BLASTS another window. More LIGHT. Like a snake escaping a predator, the sniper slithers away, but Neville pounces on him and jams the .45 into the center of his back. He pins one arm and extends the shooter's other arm into the path of the light.

SNIPER

No!

The sniper is in agony.

NEVILLE

Tell me.

Frustrated, Neville, pulls off the man's glove. First, we see that the flesh is pale white. So pale it's almost translucent. Second, we see the effect of sunlight--the skin blisters and blackens.

NEVILLE

WHERE ARE THEY?

The sniper SCREAMS. Neville releases him and he hides in the shadows, caressing his tortured limb. The sniper decides to pull off his hood and remove the scarf, revealing...

A demonic visage. Ghostly white flesh so devoid of pigment we can see the blue and purple veins beneath the surface. His eyes are an unearthly cold blue/grey and white. He is completely hairless--nothing on his pate, no brows, no facial hair. His lips a deep ruby red. This thing was once human, but now, now...

SNIPER

(somewhat awed)

You're him, aren't you? You're Neville.

Neville reaches into his belt and takes out a VIAL of blood. The sniper's eyes light up.

NEVILLE

Where are they?

The sniper is mesmerized by the blood.

SNIPER

(can't help himself)

The bay... The basement.

NEVILLE

I was in the basement.

SNIPER

Down... below... By the... subway.

NEVILLE

Do they have guns?

He won't answer. Neville pours a few drops of blood and steps back. Thirstily, the sniper laps it up with his tongue, like a cat to some spilled cream. Neville looks away. The sniper falls back onto a pile of rags and lets his "fix" kick in. His body spasms and his face contorts. The sniper's arm jerks and he lets out a satisfied breath. A junkie feeling the high.

SNIPER

We heard about you. Way up in the hills

we heard about you.

Miraculously, the sniper's charred hand begins to heal.

NEVILLE

Your friends. Guns?

SNIPER

No. We found only the rifle.

His hand forms a fist. A sinister, unearthly hiss emerges from his gullet. He looks at the vial in Neville's hand.

SNIPER

More.

NEVILLE

You'll get more if you tell me the truth.

SNIPER

More!

And something dark, something terrible fills the sniper's eyes. He LUNGES at Neville. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Neville pounds him with three bullets. Two in the stomach. One in the shoulder. Blood spatters. The sniper teeters, but does not fall. Neville aims at the heart and fires, but his weapon is empty. He mutters "shit," hastily loads a clip. The sniper clutches at his wounds, kneels and touches the floor with his finger. He takes a deep breath and enters into some kind of meditative trance. He summons...

The scattered drops of his blood heed his call. Like droplets of mercury drawn to a common source, the blood moves across the floor and flows up his finger into the open bullet wounds. And heals them.

NEVILLE

That was clever, the mannequin. That

took some thought. You nearly had me.

Click. Neville jams in the clip. The sniper moves. POW. POW. POW. POW- Only this time, Neville aims at the windows. GLASS SHATTERS and a wall of LIGHT pours in, hitting the sniper like a freight train.

SNIPER

NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The skin on the sniper's face blisters. Smoke rises from beneath his protective clothes. he HOWLS. Neville, with intense calm, holsters his .45 and raises the RIFLE.

NEVILLE

You know, I can understand me. But why

shoot at the dog? What did that dog ever do

to you?

The sniper staggers toward Neville, one last attack. Neville SHOOTS, hits the sniper square in the chest. The force of the blast propels him backward, to the open windows. The sniper slips on the broken glass and falls...

... out the window. Seven stories to the street below.

Neville moves to the window, locks at the sniper's body on the concrete. The DOG emerges from behind the abandoned car, sniffs in the direction of the corpse, and looks up at Neville in the window. Neville shouts down...

NEVILLE

STAY AWAY FROM HIM! You stay away!

The dog sits.

NEVILLE

Good boy.

EXT. DEPARTMENT STORE - DAY

A bandana acting as a mask on his face, Neville pulls a spare gas can from the rear of the Land Rover and douses the sniper's corpse (blackening in the sun) with fuel. He ignites a book of matches, tosses them at the body, and whoosh--instant funeral pyre.

Neville reaches into a supply chest in the rear of the Land Rover. He pulls out a mean looking, more powerful MACHINE GUN, two ammo clips, a portable high-intensity halogen lamp, a COMBAT KNIFE, three small electronic devices, and a customized remote control. He hangs a pair of night-vision goggles around his neck and instructs the dog...

NEVILLE

Come.

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - SUB-BASEMENT - DAY

Neville walks past rusting generators to a collapsed wall which connects the store to an old subway tunnel. The FLASHLIGHT on the barrel of the machine gun illuminates the path. The halogen lamp is strapped to his shoulder, but for now, it's switched off. Neville allows the dog to sniff a rag taken from the sniper's 'tent.' Having the scent, the dog proceeds into the tunnel. Prior to following, Neville fixes one of the SMALL ELECTRONIC DEVICES to the to the wall.

INT. SUBWAY TUNNEL - DAY

A dank, dark, creepy place. No more electricity to feed the lights or tracks. Neville paces himself behind the dog, flashlight illuminating old cigarette ads, a 49ERS billboard, a pile of cat and rat skeletons, the rails, more GRAFFITI.

Which we now see more clearly. This isn't the creation of homeboy gangbangers. it is fierce and savage in its beauty. Wild symbols, patterns, and colors. Majestic. Tribal. Neville has seen it many times before and doesn't like it. It spells trouble. He stops and attaches another electronic device to an overhead pipe.

The dog stops and utters a soft bark in the direction of a wrecked SUBWAY CAR spilled on the tracks ahead. Neville shuts off the flashlight and dons the night-vision goggles. He raises his finger to his lips and the dog knows to proceed quietly. Neville attaches the final electronic device to the door leading to the car and silently enters.

INT. SUBWAY CAR - DAY

THROUGH THE GREENISH TINT OF THE GOGGLES, we scan the interior. Ripped seats, trash, and in one corner, a HUMAN FORM. An EMACIATED CORPSE. Stripped naked, every ounce of blood drained. A festering bullet wound in the chest, the skin punctured by teeth marks. on its chest, an elaborate TRIBAL DESIGN, much like the graffiti, somehow raised from the skin, similar to a cattle brand.

Neville checks out the opposite end. Sleeping there are TWO FORMS. Breathing. He removes the goggles and motions for the dog to move back. He readies his weapon with one hand, and reaches back with the other, igniting...

THE HALOGEN LAMP. Instantly, BRIGHT WHITE LIGHT floods the compartment. The two figures stir awake and SCREECH.

NEVILLE

DON'T MOVE.

But they do not listen. Instead, they REACH into their bedding, pull out TWO HANDGUNS and FIRE.

Not what Neville expected. As bullets whiz past, he unleashes the machine gun, firing a spray across the car. One of the sleepers' bullets takes out the halogen. It shatters, burning Neville's cheek. More gunfire. Is he hit?

Neville falls back. A firefight in close quarters is not what he wants. He maneuvers back into the tunnel. Takes cover behind a pile of rubble and finds the dog already there.

NEVILLE

Never believe them, Robert, never.

BLAM! BLAM,! Bullets explode in the wall near his head. He sneaks a peek and sees the two sleepers firing at him from inside the train. Neville reaches into his belt and pulls out the customized REMOTE. He presses one of the buttons and KABLAM! The car is rocked with a small EXPLOSION. The door is torn from its mooring and one of the sleepers is RIPPED APART- The wounded sleeper HOWLS with pain and falls to the

tunnel floor, barely able to keep his body from splitting in half. Amazingly, he's still alive.

BLAM! The other one's still shooting. Neville takes cover. The second sleeper exits the car and tends to its wounded comrade. Both are the same type of creature as the sniper, but this one, the living one, is FEMALE. Her dying partner, a MALE, is finished. She caresses his face, then buries her mouth in an open wound, infusing herself. Dark blood covers her chin and chest, but as she walks, the liquid crawls across her skin into her mouth. It seems to give mass and power to her body and rich color to her translucent skin.

She raises her gun. Neville ducks just as she FIRES. BEEP BEEP BEEP. His electronic stopwatch sounds an ALARM. He switches it off and looks at the sunlight pouring into the tunnel. Its quality slowly starting to shift.

MOVEMENT. Both Neville and the female react to SOUNDS behind them, past the wrecked subway car. Neville knows what's coming. Far in the distance, we see MORE FORMS. What could be an army. He and the dog RACE to the crumbled wall of the department store. The female SCREECHES and gives chase. She's very fast, like a panther. Neville glances up, runs, presses the REMOTE...

The second DEVICE EXPLODES, collapsing the roof of the tunnel. Pipes, concrete, dirt--it all cascades down. A SHAFT OF LIGHT be in from the street above, stopping the female dead in her tracks. The light separates her from Neville and she does not like it. Frustrated, she snarls...

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - SUB BASEMENT - DAY

Neville helps the dog through the hole and heads for the

escalator. Presses the REMOTE. The third device EXPLODES,

sealing shut the connection from the store to the tunnel.

EXT. DEPARTMENT STORE - DAY

Neville and the dog hurriedly enter the Land Rover, haphazardly tossing supplies and weapons into the rear. Neville starts the vehicle and checks the sky. Must be about an hour before sunset.

EXT. SAN FRANCISCO - DAY

The Land Rover zips down California Street and we PULL BACK, FAR BACK, revealing the scope and breadth of the city.

San Francisco has been raped, mutilated, and murdered. Buildings burned, streets littered with rusting cars, trees and grass dry, dead. No bombs were dropped--too , y of the structures are intact--instead, it feels as though something sinister and insidious rotted the place from the inside out.

Most startling is the GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE. Barricades, barbed wire, EMPTY NATIONAL GUARD TANKS--all scattered about like a child's toys. it looks like a war zone. The bridge itself is charred and torn, unstable, swaying in the wind.

EXT. CHINATOWN - DAY

This area too -has been ravaged. WIND kicks up LEAFLETS. The

Land Rover speeds through, kicking up the old papers. CLOSE

ON A LEAFLET as it sails to the ground. It reads:

YOU ARE NOT ALONE. I AM A SURVIVOR JUST LIKE YOU. I WILL HELP. YOU CAN TRUST ME. THERE IS HOPE.

MY NAME IS ROBERT.

MEET ME IN GOLDEN GATE PARK. PORTALS OF THE PAST. 12 NOON.

MIDDAY. EVERY DAY. WHEN THE SUN IS HIGHEST IN THE SKY.

PLEASE.

The leaflet is yellowed and dirty. These things have been floating around for a long time.

EXT. HILL DISTRICT- DAY

Land that once held the beautiful homes of Pacific Heights, Nob Hill, and Russian Hill now looks like terrain in Bosnia. or the surface of the moon. Atop one of the hills still stands one edifice--Neville's house. The Land Rover climbs.

INT. LAND ROVER - DAY

Neville presses a remote garage door opener.

EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - DAY

The vehicle slows outside a massive GATE fashioned out of wrought iron, corrugated steel, and barbed wire. It WHEELS open, allows entry, then CLANGS shut once the Rover's inside.

PULL BACK TO REVEAL THE REST OF THE HOUSE

A turn-of-the-century house. The kind you can't find in other cities. From a distance, it almost locks "normal." But normal it is not. Every window and door has been bricked and cemented shut. Small SLITS have been cut into the walls at strategic points to provide some vantage. These portals are covered with chicken wire and are outlined by sharp NAILS pointing outward at jagged angles.

The exterior walls are covered with a hodgepodge of metal plating--steel sheets, corrugated iron. The gables bounded by coils of barbed wire. High-intensity LAMPS (now shut off) and SECURITY CAMERAS jut out at odd angles, pointing at every corner of the surrounding landscape.

And what a terrifying landscape it is. In the immediate vicinity, every other house--to the north, south, east, and west--has been burned and razed to provide Neville with an unobstructed view, and to prevent his enemies from using other structures as bases of attack.

Outlining the perimeter of Neville's house are TWO FENCES. The interior fence, only fifty feet from the house itself, is seven feet high and constructed of wooden beams and ribbons of BARBED WIRE, crisscrossed and interlaced. From within the house, once could see through, but no one could get past.

The outer fence, much higher and foreboding, forms an impenetrable square. It is composed of railroad ties, Telephone poles, metal sheets, iron staffs, barbed wired, and massive amounts of RAZOR WIRE. outside and in, it is bordered by row upon row of SHARP WOODEN PIKES, pointed out.

Between the two fences, within the compound, is a three foot deep DITCH, filled with muddy water. A crude moat. Its circle broken only by a thin LAND BRIDGE, over which now comes the Land Rover. We an ELECTRONIC WHIRRING and a STEEL DOOR, level with the ground, SLIDES BACK, revealing the slanted driveway into the UNDERGROUND GARAGE.

INT. UNDERGROUND GARAGE - DAY

Neville and the dog climb from the stopped Rover. He looks up the ramp and sees the sun begin its descent. He hits a button and the upper door slides CLOSED. He winces with pain as he pulls off the shattered halogen.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BASEMENT

He BOLTS AND LOCKS the door to the garage, ignites THREE BIG

GENERATORS, opens a fuse box, and flips the circuit breakers.

Artificial light flickers on throughout the house.

The basement acts as a workshop, tool room, and repair facility. All manner of hardware is in stock as are various chemicals, electronics, and instruction manuals. At the opposite end of the room is a WEAPONS ARSENAL and TARGET RANGE. Neville deposits the busted lamp on a workbench and checks the rifle taken from the sniper.

NEVILLE

Sight's for shit.

He dumps it on the workbench and selects a gorgeous MARKSMAN'S RIFLE from his well-stocked arsenal.

NEVILLE

Now, if you had this, I might not be here

right now. (sardonically) Too bad.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - DUSK

Neville peels off the bodysuit. We see that his shirt is ripped above the sleeve and a shoulder badly BRUISED. He examines the vest and finds a BULLET flattened into the fabric. He pries it out and hangs the suit in his closet. He slips into some loose fitting black pants, black t-shirt, and sneakers. Clothes for mobility, agility.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DUSK

Neville looks at a shelf of VIDEOTAPES: NBC NIGHTLY NEWS/JUNE 5, 1992, NBC NIGHTLY NEWS/AUGUST 5, 1997, ABC NIGHTLINE/ DECEMBER 12, 1995, CBS EVENING NEWS/OCTOBER 27, 1994.

He pops one into a vcr and Dan Rather reports on the day's events. A long ago yesterday's events. Neville slides a CD into a player. Gorecki's Miserere. Like this morning, a wall of sound. Comforting. "Normal."

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - DUSK

Neville digs into a freezer and pulls out two frozen STEAKS from a dwindling supply of meat.

NEVILLE

It's my birthday. Why not?

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - EARLY EVENING

A rather sad figure, Neville sits at a lonely little table eating his steak. Next to it, a lumpy

muffin with a thick candle stuck in its heart. A pathetic "birthday cake."

Uneaten. On the floor, the dog devours his steak--raw. Neville's disturbed by the bloodiness of the meat and can't watch the red juice drip from the dog's mouth.

Nearby, past a TV playing the news video, is a wall of CLOSED-CIRCUIT MONITORS showing grainy black-and-white images of the area surrounding the house. There's MOVEMENT on a few of the screens and Neville attunes to it instantly.

NEVILLE

They're early.

He snaps into action. Moves to a LARGE COMPUTER SET-UP near the security video console, takes a seat, and calls up a PROGRAM detailing the various ELECTRONIC CONTROLS connected to the compound. Hits the keyboard...

EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING

LIGHTS. Dozens of bulbs along the outer fence ignite. others atop the roof SPRAY LIGHT onto the compound.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - DINING AREA - EARLY EVENING

Neville grabs the muffin off the table, blows out the candle, and tosses it to the dog.

NEVILLE

Happy birthday.

The dog sniffs and doesn't find the prospect too appealing.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BASEMENT ARSENAL - NIGHT

Neville checks and loads a series of WEAPONS.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - VARIOUS - NIGHT

He places GUNS around the house and heads UPSTAIRS.

EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - ROOF - NIGHT

A HATCH opens onto a PROTECTED DECK--A makeshift "crow's nest." It screws with the aesthetics of the old home's architecture, but it serves a purpose, providing Neville with a high, secure vantage point. He rests his marksman's rifle in a crook, climbs up a small "lookout post," and raises a pair of NIGHT VISION BINOCULARS to his eyes...

IN THE DISTANCE, through the foggy green light of the glasses, we see FORMS beyond

the outside fence. Right now, there are a dozen, perhaps twenty. However, to the left, to the

right, MORE, many more, are journeying up the hill, toward the house. Hiding in the

shadows creeping behind rubble, crawling through trenches.

ON THE ROOF, Neville slides down the pole, into the house.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT

Neville opens a DOOR, revealing a small room within--a converted closet. He moves INSIDE and we see its walls are lined with numerous HOLY TEXTS and FIGURES OF WORSHIP--

A crucifix, the Buddha, a Celtic cross, rosary beeds, Hindu gods, a menorah, Norse rune stones, you name it.

Neville lights a candle and incense, silently prays. The dog rests outside the door. He becomes ALERT, hearing the SOUND before his master. AN EERIE MOAN. Low, resonant. A C Far in the distance. Beyond the walls, beyond the fence. The MOANING INTENSIFIES. The dog whimpers.

NEVILLE

I know.

The moaning subsides. It is replaced by a DEEP, RHYTHMIC DRUMMING. There is something powerful and dangerous to the beat. And it affects Neville.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Neville plays a CD. CRANKS UP THE VOLUME. The music is loud, angry and disturbing. Krzystof Penderecki. Neville moves to the computer station, presses a co

EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - NIGHT

MUSIC BLARES from SPEAKERS mounted on the roof. Outside the fence, the DRUMMING INTENSIFIES. Combined with Neville's music, an odd, discordant symphony is created.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Neville sits on the floor, hands covering his ears. The dog whimpers his concern. Finally, Neville SCREAMS...

NEVILLE

STOP!

He SHUTS OFF the music. Outside, the drumming continues. Neville GRABS the dog by the collar and JERKS him to a small HATCH cut into the KITCHEN DOOR. He slides back a bolt and PUSHES the dog outside. The dog looks back at Neville with sad, frightened eyes. Neville angrily instructs...

NEVILLE

IT'S YOUR JOB. GO.

He slides the hatch back in place, locking the dog outside.

EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - NIGHT

The dog begins his patrol of the inner perimeter. it is his job to alert Neville to anyone who makes it this far. out here, the DRUMMING is much louder.

EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - ROOF - NIGHT

Neville emerges from the hatchway, grabs the marksman's RIFLE, adjusts the sight with the screwdriver tip of the all-in-one-tool, and positions himself in the crow's nest. He arms the weapon and raises the INFRA-RED SCOPE to his eye.

NEVILLE

All right, Cortman. I'm ready.

EXT. BARREN LANDSCAPE - NIGHT

We shift our point-of-view to the area far beyond the outer fence, to the source of the drumming. And what we see should be terrifying...

AN ARMY. A horde of awesome, frightening creatures.

Close to three hundred in number. Male and female. All have the pale, translucent skin of the creatures Neville encountered in the department store and subway, the same lack of hair, the same disturbingly blue grey/white eyes. But this group, this tribe, has something different about it. Something strong. Something imperious. Something savage.

They wear very little clothing an their magnificently shaped bodies. Most of the men and many of the women are topless, proud of their muscular torsos and ghostly flesh.

Unique TRIBAL MARKINGS AND JEWELRY adorn their bodies. However, all, each and every one of them, bear one identical mark an their chests. The "brand" Neville saw an the drained corpse in the subway car. It is their mark.

There is a hierarchy to the assembled:

Lowest are CARETAKERS, who nurse and tend to the wounded. Above them are the DRUMMERS. They intone frightening chants and beat out powerful rhythms an large decorated drums. Next are the CLERICS--A somber, serious bunch whose markings are very ornate, very significant, very "holy."

The greatest in number are the WARRIORS. The strongest, the fiercest, the most savage-appearing. Hate fills their eyes. Hate fuels them. A pure hate for one man--Neville.

Very near the top are two LIEUTENANTS, one leader of the Clerics, the other leader of the Warriors. The Cleric Lieutenant is CHRISTOPHER. An intense, almost sensitive looking fellow whose body is the most decorated, the most artistic in its impression. The Warrior Lieutenant is EVA. A fantastically strong, vicious woman whose body bears the SCARS of warfare. She possesses a manic, ferocious energy.

And the LEADER. The leader is CORTMAN.

He exudes the confidence and power of a king. His body is chiseled, his visage haunting. He commands this group with the calm of a head of state, the drive and focus of a field marshall, and the brute force of a tribal warlord.

He stands an a promontory, a big jagged hunk of concrete jutting from the earth's surface. It provides protection and perspective--beyond the range of Neville's guns, but close enough to observe his activity. There is constant movement in the ranks, but all await and heed the word of Cortman.

( *NOTE--Although these creatures consume blood, are allergic to light, and bear other similarities to vampires, they are not. They are something new, something we have never seen before, something strikingly different. There is nothing but their existence or behavior that is based in the occult or supernatural. They are real. And we will learn how and why soon enough. For the purposes of this screenplay, we will call these creatures Hemocytes. )

Cortman RAISES HIS ARM and the drummers cease.

CORTMAN

Bring her to me.

TWO WARRIORS shove forward the FEMALE Hemocyte Neville encountered in the subway. Eva forces her to "bow", in submission. Cortman gently strokes the female's cheek.

CORTMAN

You wish to join us.

She nods in the direction of Neville's house.

FEMALE

He killed my love.

CORTMAN

Neville has slaughtered so many we loved.

You want to see him dead? See him punished

for this injustice?

FEMALE

Yes!

CORTMAN

You want to feed on him.

FEMALE

Yes!

CORTMAN

Why should we grant you that privilege?

FEMALE

Why?

She reaches into the small of her back and pulls forth the PISTOL she used against Neville.

FEMALE

I'll give you this.

Cortman and others LAUGH. He takes it, examines it.

CORTMAN

I haven't played with toys since I was a

child. What about you, Eva?

He tosses it to her. She looks at it with disdain.

CORTMAN

Do you really think I need these relics of the past?

I have every weapon I need. My body. my mind.

My soul. (re the gun) Such toys are pointless. (MORE)

CORTMAN (cont'd)

Neville. He needs them. Take them away,

and he is naked.

To prove a point, Cortman nods to Eva and she SHOOTS him twice in the stomach. He LAUGHS and we watch his body heal itself, blood refusing to flow, flesh sealing the holes. Eva THROWS the gun into the night.

CORTMAN

Remind her of what she has done.

Christopher turns to his clerics and they bring forth the DRAINED CORPSE the female and her "Love" fed upon in the subway car. There is real anger in the eyes of the Clerics.

CORTMAN

You recognize him?

The female realizes she is in trouble. Cortman shows her the DISTINCTIVE BRAND on the chest. Cortman touches his own brand. Others in the tribe touch theirs.

CORTMAN

It is our mark. It distinguishes us and unites us.

Without it, we mean nothing. Without it:, we are

no better than you. And you disgust me.

FEMALE

Please...

CORTMAN

"Please." (re the corpse) Did he beg?

whimper and plea? If so, what: was your

response? How did you react? With

understanding? Compassion?

Or with hunger? And brutality?

Cortman extends his arm. He CONCENTRATES and the muscles and tendons of the forearm thicken. Elegantly, his NAILS GROW, creeping forth from the flesh, forming RAZOR-LIKE TALONS.

CORTMAN

Life is eternal.

He SLASHES her throat. SLASHES her chest once, twice. Her body spasms and twitches at the massive blood loss, but there's clearly still life in her eyes. Her FLESH tries to heal itself, to heal the wounds. Cortman looks to Eva.

CORTMAN

Who goes forth tonight?

She motions toward TEN HEMOCYTE WARRIORS, their faces and bodies painted differently than the others.

CORTMAN

Feast on her. Let the blood give you strength.

Your brother's spirit will live within you. Go. Drink.

The ten move on the female like vultures to carrion. She SCREAMS and within moments, she is drained. The other Hemocytes link hands and surround the warriors. Cortman approaches the body of the female, a last glimmer of life in her eyes. He whispers...

CORTMAN

This is not a punishment. It is a gift.

His talons puncture her heart. The talons RECEDE and her blood forms a pool in the "cup' of Cortman's hand.

CORTMAN

You have been chosen on this night of

glorious darkness to do battle with an

anachronism. our nemesis. Say his name.

Together, the warriors chant, "Neville."

CORTMAN

Allow the blood to flow through you, allow

its power to strengthen your limbs,

your flesh, your soul. Feel its beauty.

Feel its immense force.

Fueled by the fresh blood, the bodies of the ten men and women seem to grow in mass and muscle. Their skin thickens, forming a kind of flesh armor. They open their eyes and they are red with ferocity, Cortman raises his own hand to his mouth, drinks, and kisses each warrior on the mouth.

CORTMAN

Feel the power.

He repeats this down the line, and when finished, the warriors are frighteningly pumped up, their bodies and spirits now adrenalized with terrible dark energy.

Everyone chants, "Ne-ville". Again and again - "Ne-ville". Cortman signals the DRUMMERS who begin an accelerated beat, an accompaniment to combat. Like magnificent predatory beasts, the TEN WARRIORS MOVE across the barren landscape and gather at the OUTSIDE FENCE. Cortman stands atop the promontory and points at the house.

CORTMAN

DESTROY THE DEVIL!

The warriors SCREAM.

EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - ROOF - NIGHT

A dark intensity in his eyes, Neville watches the perimeter. The HOWLING and DRUMMING of the Hemocytes echoes through the night sky. He does his best to block it out. Block it out.

IN THE DISTANCE, LONG POLES are RAISED against the outer fence. The TEN climb, reaching the razor-wired crest.

Neville looks through his INFRA-RED SIGHT, finds the CHEST of one warrior and FIRES three rounds--two find the heart. The warrior drops. NEVILLE SEARCHES for another target.

ATOP THE FENCE, the warriors struggle to avoid lacerating themselves with the razor wire. THREE STRONG HEMOCYTES LEAP OVER THE WIRE and land in the compound, avoiding the row of PIKES before the moat.

ON THE ROOF, Neville switches on SUPER BRIGHT LIGHTS aimed at the outer fence. (We notice a considerable DIMMING of other lights in and around the house--these lamps draw power).

ATOP THE FENCE, SIX HEMOCYTES are BLINDED by the light. One loses his footing and FALLS BACK onto the exterior PIKES, horribly impaled. Another BADLY CUTS HIMSELF on the razor wire. The blood loss is too great and the warrior nearest him--a BEAUTIFUL FEMALE--wills it to her, drawing the fuel into her mouth, into her system, and LEAPS into the compound.

IN THE CROW'S NEST, Neville removes the sight and uses the high-intensity lamps to seek out the THREE remaining Hemocytes on the fence. He SHOOTS. HITS one square in the chest, dropping him. SHOOTS. Bullets tear into the flesh of another, but they're off-center and the WOUNDS HEAL. This Hemocyte leaps, joining the others inside the compound.

The last of the three jumps down, but NEVILLE FIRES, catching her in mid-flight, spinning her off-balance. She tries to correct her fall, but lands on the INTERIOR PIKES. Her body is SPEARED in three different places, but she's still alive.

ON THE ROOF, Neville SHUTS OFF the high-intensity lamps (returning power to the other utilities). Inside the inner perimeter, the DOG BARKS, alerting Neville to the FIVE HEMOCYTES who made it into the compound.

NEVILLE

I know, I know.

He climbs through the hatch into the house.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Neville propels himself down the spiral staircase and moves to the MONITORING STATION- On the closed-circuit screens, we can see FOGGY IMAGES of Cortman and his followers outside the compound, IMAGES of the FIVE HEMOCYTES just inside the compound, and THE DOG patrolling the inner perimeter.

He checks the COMPUTER and we see an ELECTRONIC GRAPHIC--an OVERVIEW LAYOUT of the compound. Neville checks the VIDEO of the five within the compound, near the MOAT.

NEVILLE

You like surprises?

EXT. THE COMPOUND - NIGHT

The five Hemocytes gather around the warrior impaled on the inner pikes. She struggles to pull herself off the sharp poles, but the blood continues to seep out of her.

WARRIOR ONE--A muscular male--gently leans in...

He kisses her. The OTHERS congregate and drink her blood. The Impaled Warrior dies. Again, we see the bodies of the Hemocytes grow stronger. They turn, hiss at Neville's house, hiss at the dog, move through the pikes, and toward THE MOAT.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT

Neville bounds upstairs, to a second story slit/window. He PUNCHES out the protective chicken wire with his fist and reaches for something on a table... A FLARE GUN.

NEVILLE

I like surprises.

EXT. COMPOUND - NIGHT

WARRIOR TWO AND WARRIOR THREE try to LEAP across the ditch, but don't make it. They slide into the WATERY MUD. WARRIOR ONE succeeds in jumping across. WARRIOR FOUR and the BEAUTIFUL FEMALE warrior approach the edge of the moat. Four is about to slide into the muck when Beautiful recognizes ODOR, INHALES DEEPLY and realizes something terrible.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT

Neville aims the flare pistol at the moat and FIRES.

NEVILLE

Happy birthday, Bobby.

EXT. COMPOUND - NIGHT

The FLARE sails from the bedroom window into the moat. it takes only a split second for the Hemocytes to realize the ditch is filled with GASOLINE. Warrior One is blasted back by the ERUPTION OF FLAME. Two and Three HOWL WITH DESPAIR as they are roasted alive. FIRE SPIRALS into the black sky. The Beautiful Female PULLS Warrior Four to safety.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT

Neville watches as the flames SPREAD around the moat, forming a CIRCLE OF FIRE. As the flames grow higher, the DRUMMING AND CHANTING of the Hemocytes abruptly ceases.

NEVILLE

Get your attention, Cortman?

EXT. SURROUNDING AREA - NIGHT

Cortman and his followers watch in horror. EVA is furious.

EVA

WE GO! NOW! ALL OF US!

CHRISTOPHER

When we send more, it simply means more

dead. Our dead.

EVA

He can't kill us all!

CORTMAN

He can. He would. Even if it meant

killing himself in the bargain.

EVA

COWARDS! We're cowards!

Cortman GRABS her by the throat and LIFTS her into the air.

CORTMAN

YOU CALL ME COWARD?

YOU QUESTION MY JUDGEMENT?

He HEAVES her away like a rag doll. Eva lands hard. Cortman intimidates the hell out of her --out of everyone.

CORTMAN

WHO ELSE CHALLENGES ME?

WHO AMONG YOU?

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM

Neville checks the screens, but SMOKE obscures the view. He looks at the computer. Moves his mouse to an area labeled MOTION DETECTORS / SENSORS and creates an ELECTRONIC "X" on the screen for each of the Hemocytes in the compound. Neville presses a button and an OVERLAY GRID appears.

EXT. COMPOUND - NIGHT

WARRIOR ONE--through the flames licking the moat--encourages Warrior Four and the Beautiful Female to press on. Warrior One looks to the inner fence. Beyond it is the DOG, BARKING fiercely. When the warrior approaches, the dog RUNS.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Neville observes the COMPUTER as one of the "X"s steps onto a RED quadrant of the grid. Neville PRESSES a button.

EXT. COMPOUND - NIGHT

We HEAR an ELECTRONIC "BEEP" before Warrior One steps on a REMOTE-CONTROLLED MINE. The CONCUSSIVE BLAST propels him up and back, into the fiery ditch. Across the moat, Warrior Four and the Beautiful Female look on in horror. Frightened, Warrior Four slinks back in the direction of the outer fence.

WARRIOR FOUR

We'll never get inside!

The Beautiful Female looks at him with disgust. She notices the blast has torn a HOLE in the fence, creating easy access to the HOUSE ITSELF. She turns to her cowardly comrade.

BEAUTIFUL FEMALE

I have a better idea.

She extends her RAZOR SHARP TALONS...

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM. - NIGHT

Neville's eyes watch the monitors He can barely make out TWO HAZY FIGURES beyond the moat. Suddenly, one drops from view. He checks the computer screen. The sensors only show the area between the outer fence and inner fence. (The area between the house and inner fence is unmonitored to allow for the dog's patrols.) There is still one "X" outside the moat.

EXT. COMPOUND - NIGHT

The Beautiful Female stands over the corpse of Warrior Four, his throat slashed, body pale and drained. RICH CRIMSON drips from her lips and her body GROWS in strength and energy. She sets her sights on the house.

In a MAGNIFICENT LEAP, she hurdles over the moat, through the flames, and LANDS on the other side. The DOG GROWLS. She HISSES and moves toward him, talons ready.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Neville reacts with surprise as the final "X" disappears from the screen. He adjusts the grid, fiddles with the mouse, checks the video screens --nothing. OUTSIDE, the dog WILDLY, then MANICALLY SCRATCHES at the "dog door." Neville rushes to it, but can't open it--it's stuck. The dog YELPS in fear. Neville tries to force open the hatch, but it won't budge. The dog BARKS a warning. Then SILENCE.

He rushes to the MONITORS, but can't see anything. Just smoke and dead Hemocytes. He frantically paces. Then grabs a FLASHLIGHT and heads to the basement.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BASEMENT - NIGHT

Near the garage entrance, Neville removes a STEEL PLATE from the wall, revealing a TUNNEL--about two feet high, three feet wide--leading from the house, below the compound. He grabs two .45 AUTOMATICS from the Arsenal, tucks them in his belt and slithers into the tunnel, flashlight showing the way.

INT. TUNNEL - NIGHT

Neville reaches a specific section of the crawlspace. Directly above him is another HATCHWAY. He undoes a bolt, slides it back, shuts off the flashlight and sits for a few moments in darkness, listening for movement above. When he's satisfied with the level of quiet, he reaches for the hatch.

EXT. COMPOUND - NIGHT

The hatch, camouflaged by dirt and dry grass, FLIES UP from the ground. In a flash, Neville SPRINGS UP, .45s at the ready. Silhouetted against the gasoline flames in the moat, he surveys the area between the inner fence and the house...

Nothing. He silently moves to the HOLE in the barbed wire, inspects it. He follows FOOTPRINTS around the house, eyes moving side to side, behind, above. He rounds a corner ... MOVEMENT. Raises his weapons. And finds...

Nothing. MOVEMENT. He spins, ready to shoot... THE DOG. on the opposite side of the barbed wire fence, near the moat. Neville scolds the dog.

NEVILLE

What are you doing over there?

Neville points to the hole.

NEVILLE

Get inside.

The dog heads for the hole, then stops. He BARKS WILDLY. Neville spins, but the warning comes too late.

THE BEAUTIFUL FEMALE Hemocyte stands a few feet away from him. Completely nude. Her talons are sheathed, the blood wiped clean from her mouth and chin. Although her pallor is ghostly, there is no denying her body is comely, seductive, and magnificently shaped. Proud and calm, she extends her hand toward Neville, as if welcoming him.

He raises one of the weapons and aims at her heart. She pouts. And takes a step toward him. Neville's hand shakes. His face sweats. His finger cannot pull the trigger. The dog senses his master's dilemma and RUNS for the hole.

BEAUTIFUL FEMALE

Please don't hurt me. I want to...

The Beautiful Female steps within inches of him. Neville

hates himself for being unable to act.

BEAUTIFUL FEMALE

... touch you.

Her hands caress his face and she kisses his neck. Her hands move down his body, along his arms, pull the guns from his fingers, and drop them to the ground. She pulls Neville's hands to her breasts.

BEAUTIFUL FEMALE

Touch me.

As Neville becomes lost in her flesh, the Beautiful Female extends an arm. TALONS emerge from her fingers. Her eyes glow with hate, with blood lust.

BEAUTIFUL FEMALE

So easy.

As her razor-sharp fingers move to his throat, THE DOG TACKLES them both. Neville snaps out of his sexual reverie and PUSHES her away. She LASHES OUT, SLASHING his forearm. Neville scrambles for the guns. The dog jumps at the Hemocyte, but she bats him away, knocking him unconscious.

Neville aims the .45s. FIRES. Three-four-five-six shots from each gun. Protecting herself, the Beautiful Female turns SIDEWAYS and covers her chest with her arms. The SKIN

THICKENS an command, forming a protective shield. The bullets penetrate, but do not cause damage.

Neville drops the spent, smoking weapons to the ground. The

Beautiful Female stands and "commands" her skin to return to "normal." She looks the helpless Neville up and down and laughs. A superior, cruel laugh. She bares her teeth, hisses, and moves in for the kill.

Like lightning, Neville reaches into a boot sheath, pulls his COMBAT KNIFE, and drives it into his attacker's heart. The Beautiful Female SCREECHES WITH SHOCK. Neville TWISTS the blade. She falls to her knees and tries to summon her body to heal, but the damage is too great, the loss of blood immense. She hisses and dies.

As life drains from her, her eyes become soft, almost human Neville is haunted by the transformation. And cannot bear to watch. A WHIMPER. The dog is regaining consciousness. Neville lifts him in his arms and heads for the tunnel.

EXT. SURROUNDING AREA - NIGHT

Cortman kneels, deeply feeling. He rises. Stoic. Majestically raises his arms...

CORTMAN

Let them hear you. Tell their souls we

do not forget.

Christopher and his Clerics lead the tribe in a MOURNFUL

CHANT. The DRUMMERS provide haunting accompaniment. There is something disturbing, yet beautiful about the sound.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - MEDICAL FACILITY - NIGHT

Neville is shirtless, tending to the laceration on his forearm. He disinfec