I am Legend

EXT. PRESIDIO - DAY

The Land Rover exits, black smoke still rising from the pit.

EXT. GOLDEN GATE PARK - PORTALS OF THE PAST - DAY

Neville sits, waits. It is so silent, the air incredibly still. No movement, no sound, nothing. Neville can't bear it. He erupts with frustration, SCREAMS at the sky.

EXT. CEMETERY - OUTER GATES - DAY

The fences and gates of the cemetery look like Fort Knox. More barbed wire and evidence of conflict. SIGNS read: ENTRY FORBIDDEN! ABSOLUTELY NO ENTRY PAST THIS POINT BY ORDER OF U.S. NATIONAL GUARD. TRESPASSERS SHOT ON SIGHT.

The Land Rover waits outside a heavily fortified gate. Neville carries a huge CIRCLE OF KEYS. Uses one to open a padlock and chain.

EXT. CEMETERY - DAY

Many graves have been dug up, many vaults ripped down. Others carry BIOHAZARD warning labels. The Land Rover stops at a BEAUTIFUL TOMB guarded by statues of angels. The door to its interior locked and chained. Neville waits. It's difficult for him, whatever he's about to do.

INT. TOMB - DAY

The door cracks open and Neville uses all his weight to push it in. LIGHT fills the crypt, illuminating dead flowers on a stone casket. Followed by the dog, Neville enters, collects the old flowers and lays fresh ones in their place. He kneels, shuts his eyes, and silently prays.

NEVILLE

It was my birthday yesterday, Ellen.

Forty-two. You wouldn't recognize me,

sweetie--I'm in better shape today than I

was when we got married. (thinks of something)

Gracie's birthday is next month, isn't it?

She would've been ten. That's a big birthday

for a kid.

He can't continue. Whispers...

NEVILLE

I miss you, Ellen. I miss you so much.

FLASHBACK TO:

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - DAY

A beautifully decorated, sun-filled room. ELLEN NEVILLE, a pretty, gentle woman, lies in bed, half-awake. in his bathrobe, Neville reads the morning paper.

NEVILLE

Did you hear about this guy?

ELLEN

What guy?

NEVILLE

Dr. John Krippen. He's at the U.

ELLEN

What about him?

NEVILLE

This is really something.

ELLEN

Would you tell me, already?

NEVILLE

Wow. In theory, this could cure AIDS.

ELLEN

What are you talking about?

NEVILLE

"Krippen's Viragene." (laughs) Sounds like

something you'd buy from an infomercial.

Neville reads to her from the article.

NEVILLE

"A simple hemocyte..."

ELLEN

What's a hemocyte?

NEVILLE

A blood cell. (continues) "... which has been

genetically altered and adhered to a virus."

(explains) They started with lung cells a couple

years ago, but Krippen's working with blood

--on leukemia. (reads) "The altered cell--the

viragene--is injected into the bloodstream where

it destroys all cancerous cells and, by utilizing

the properties of a virus, replaces them with

healthy cells." It eats disease and makes you

healthy. "Dr. Krippen states that, in theory, use

of viragenes could be applied to HIV, other

forms of cancer, damaged nerves, blindness

--virtually any ailment."

ELLEN

Let me get this straight. Genetic engineering

and viruses?

NEVILLE

The properties of a virus--I guess so it can

multiply and grow throughout the bloodstream.

But they disable it (MORE)

NEVILLE (cont'd)

somehow, so it's not harmful. This is

amazing! And it's buried on page 12.

ELLEN

It sounds dangerous, Bob.

NEVILLE

Ellie...

ELLEN

All these so-called scientific breakthroughs.

Playing with the building blocks of life.

As a race, do you think we can catch up?

I mean, we're back here, and they're twenty

miles down the road.

NEVILLE

(significantly)

It could cure cancer. All forms of cancer.

ELLEN

(sadly)

Maybe there's supposed to be cancer.

Does anyone think about that? What if

there's a reason? What if... All this goes

against God's plan?

NEVILLE

I thought God's plan was simple.

She waits.

NEVILLE

To love each other, Ellie. To lend a

helping hand to someone in need, to care

for one another. Compassion.

ELLEN

Bobby, you're an idealist. You always

have been.

NEVILLE

I have hope. You can never lose hope.

GRACE'S VOICE

Mommy?

Their daughter appears in the doorway.

ELLEN

What is it, honey?

GRACE

I don't feel good today.

ELLEN

Oh, come here, sweetie...

Grace joins them in bed. Ellen hugs her close. Neville finishes the article in the paper and joins them

NEVILLE

(whispers in Ellen's ear)

I'm going to see him. This Dr. Krippen.

ABRUPT CUT TO:

INT. TOMB - DAY

END FLASHBACK.

Neville stands. Dispassionate, almost militaristic in his movements. He collects the dead flowers and exits.

EXT. CEMETERY - DAY

Neville locks the outer gate, climbs into the Land Rover and drives away, the SUN an hour or two away from setting.

INT. EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - VARIOUS - DAY / DUSK

Neville secures the house for the evening. Fills generators with gasoline, checks power connections, repairs the hole in the inner fence, loads weapons, etc.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - DUSK

Neville barely touches his dinner as the dog devours its bowl of fresh chow.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The sun's last rays shine through the window slits. Neville washes dishes. The dog glances at the "doggie door" leading outside. Neville tells him.

NEVILLE

Not tonight. You can stay in tonight.

The happy dog follows him to the video monitor/computer station. Neville checks the screens--no activity yet. He sits behind the computer and looks at a CHESS PROGRAM--a game already in play. He analyzes the board, but is distracted.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT

Neville goes through his archives of VIDEO TAPES.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT

Neville sits up in bed, the dog at the foot, on the floor, watching TV. Guns in close proximity. A videotape plays John Ford's THE LOST PATROL. A small group of British soldiers cracking under the pressure of attack by a superior force of Arabs.

Neville's seen it many times. He's seen all his favorites too many times. He gets bored with it, stops the tape, returns to the archives and moves to another. He hesitates. Wanting to play certain tapes, and desperately not wanting to play them. He gives in, selects one, and moves to the vcr.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT - MOMENTS LATER

VIDEO IMAGES. His wife ELLEN and daughter GRACE (5 years old here) washing the car in the back yard. Both wear bathing suits and are having a terrific time with the water and soap suds. Ellen turns the hose on the camera and we hear.

NEVILLE'S VOICE

Hey! This thing costs a lotta money!

The video camera ducks out of the way and we see Neville's bare feet. Typical home movie shenanigans. He refocuses on his wife. She looks quite lovely in her bikini.

ELLEN

How come we're doing all the work?

GRACE

Yeah, how come? I think you should wash

the car, daddy.

NEVILLE

Uh-uh. Mommy and I made a bet and she

lost.

ELLEN

You cheated!

REVEAL NEVILLE. Sitting on the edge of his bed, haunted by the images. Haunted by his vibrant little girl, mesmerized by his wife's vitality, her beauty.

And then we HEAR... MOURNFUL CHANTING. SLOW, RHYTHMIC DRUMMING-

The ghostly cries...

VOICES OUTSIDE

Neville... Neville...

Neville shuts his eyes. Covers his ears. The dog goes to the balcony, demurely barks a reminder. Neville looks out. In the distance, in the darkness, the Hemocytes continue to MOURNFULLY WAIL. Neville SLAMS SHUT the steel shutters.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Neville moves to an ALCOVE containing a HAM RADIO setup, dons HEADPHONES and juices up the system. He SCANS and LISTENS. Nothing. The static and dead air, however, blocks out the cries of the Hemocytes. Neville switches to the emergency frequency and leans into his microphone...

NEVILLE

San Francisco KDX-CFY-CA 1971335.

San Francisco KDX-CFY-CA 1971335.

Listens. He's done this far too many times. Tried too many times. But still, he listens.

NEVILLE

San Fran--

He stops. What was that? He turns up the volume and now we HEAR it, too. Is it?

A human voice? Unintelligible, staticy. What did it say? Was it "Help me?" Was it?! He adjusts the scanner, cranks the volume. It's gone. Just like that, it's gone. Was it even there?

NEVILLE

Hello? Please...

Static. There was nothing. You're cracking up! Neville rips the headphones from his ears, throws them.

NEVILLE

There was nobody. Nobody.

He looks at the monitors, the Hemocytes. The CHANTING very loud now. Neville SCREAMS.

NEVILLE

LEAVE ME ALONE! FOR GOD'S SAKE.

Manically, he runs upstairs, grabbing a HANDGUN on the way.

EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - ROOF - NIGHT

Neville indiscriminately FIRES the pistol.

NEVILLE

LEAVE ME ALONE !

He futilely empties the clip. The Hemocytes collectively HISS. He THROWS the gun into the compound and falls to his knees. He cradles his head in his hands.

NEVILLE

Dear Jesus, why? Please. Why?

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT

He secures the hatch and collapses onto his bed. The dog sadly approaches. Softening greatly, Neville lays his hand on the dog. His eyes move to the photo of his wife.

EXT. SURROUNDING AREA - NIGHT

The Hemocytes stand hand-in-hand in mournful vigil.

CORTMAN

THE BLOOD IS ON YOUR HANDS, NEVILLE.

YOU ARE THE MURDERER.. TRY TO SLEEP

TONIGHT. TRY. REMEMBER THE FACES

OF THOSE YOU KILLED. WE WILL NEVER

FORGET. AND ONE DAY, YOU WILL PAY.

I PROMISE YOU THAT. THERE WILL BE

RETRIBUTION.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT

Neville's haunted face stares at the ceiling.

CORTMAN'S VOICE

RETRIBUTION, NEVILLE.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - NEXT MORNING

Neville drives the Land Rover out of the compound.

INT. LAND ROVER - DAY

Eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, a quiet, solemn Neville cruises the deserted city streets.

EXT. CIVIC CENTER - DAY

City Hall is in ruins. The Federal Building blown to bits. The Library has suffered damage, but the structure is intact. Neville, loop of wire in hand, sets another SNARE on a lamp post and keeps a watchful eye on the surrounding buildings.

What was that? Did something move? Nothing. Nothing, Bob.

EXT. EMBARCADERO - DAY

The Land Rover stops near the Bay Bridge. Neville looks

around. Cars are overturned, burned, rusting. Boats in the

harbor are ravaged, sunken.

EXT. EMBARCADERO - DAY - AN HOUR LATER

Neville has strung a series of five traps along the street. He's working on his sixth when he realizes he won't have enough wire. He returns to the Land Rover, pets the dog, and sets his machine gun on the roof of the vehicle. He removes the Kevlar vest and his shirt. It's hot today. He drinks from a bottle of water, grabs a fresh spool of wire, and returns to the post. He arranges and sets the wire and prepares to bait it when he STOPS. Absolutely dead stops.

MOVEMENT. About half a block away. He locates the source of the SOUND and sees something in one of the abandoned buildings. Neville reaches for his machine gun.

But it's not there. It's on the fucking roof of the Land Rover. The dog is hyper-alert. He heard it, too. Keeping his eyes glued on the abandoned building, Neville moves toward the vehicle...

The dog BARKS a warning, but it's too late...

Neville has stepped into the snare of his own trap!

SNAP! The wire WHIPS TAUGHT jerking Neville off his feet. He SMACKS his head on the asphalt as the wire PULLS UP. The snare LOCKS into place and Neville HANGS above the street, upside-down, his head about three feet from the surface. The ALL-IN-ONE-TOOL FALLS from his pocket. He REACHES for it, but it's already on the street.

The dog BARKS AND BARKS. Panicked, afraid, scolding. Neville is so pissed at himself. The wire CUTS deep into his ankle. BLOOD drips to the street. He's a little dazed, but Neville's desperately trying to maintain clarity. The dog circles below, barking and whimpering. Neville breathes deeply, gauges his surroundings. What to do?! And then he realizes why the dog is so frantic.

The sun is setting.

As if on cue, his ELECTRONIC POCKET WATCH sounds its ALARM. BEEP-BEEP-BEEP. The color drains from Neville's face. BEEP-BEEP-BEEP. Neville angrily THROWS the watch down the street. The dog continues to BARK his warnings.

NEVILLE

SHUT UP! DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW?!!!

The dog backs off, circles the area, sniffs. Whimpers and growls. Transforms into defensive posture.

SOUNDS OF MOVEMENT in a nearby building. Neville hears it. Looks at the sky. About thirty, forty minutes before sunset. Damn! He calms himself. Can't panic, absolutely cannot panic. He tries reaching for the wire, to pull himself up, but it's just beyond his reach, the strain too great. He remembers his KNIFE in the ankle sheath. Pulls it and HACKS at the wire. No good. It would never cut through. He tucks the knife back into the sheath. Thinks.

CRASH! Something falls and breaks in one of the shops. More MOVEMENT. The dog REACTS, BARKS and RUNS to check it out.

NEVILLE

NO! STAY!

Neville can do nothing. The dog's gone. Must act quickly. Although it makes the wire cut deeper into his ankle, Neville SWINGS back and forth, making his body a pendulum. Reaches for the post. Misses. Swings back. Forth. GRABS IT. Holds on for dear life. In an impressive feat of strength and dexterity, he twists and PULLS himself up the post, to the overhang bar, and CRAWLS along it, even though the tension it creates on the wire is shredding his ankle.

Neville desperately tries to untangle the snare. His fingers can't quite do the trick, so he pulls the KNIFE and uses it to SAW into the cable.

A HOWL from within a building.

Neville glances in the direction of the sound. Just as the blade succeeds in slicing through enough of the wire, it weakens and SNAPS! Releasing an unprepared Neville. He FALLS and lands HARD on the asphalt. A bone BREAKS in Neville's wrist but that's the least of his worries.

He landed on the knife. It's sticking straight through the meat of his thigh.

He screams in pain! Reaches for it, but that arm has a broken wrist--and that's agony! He rolls to his side, feels for the handle with his good hand and psychs himself up for what must be done. He PULLS the blade, SCREAMS, and passes out.

The image loses focus... FADES... To BLACK. Silence.

FADE IN to grey. Unfocused, gaining sharpness... A SOUND. A wet sound... The DOG LICKS Neville's face and pokes him, urging him to consciousness. When Neville awakens...

IT IS NIGHT.

The look of terror on his face is unmistakable. The dog whimpers, prods him, begging him to move. A small pool of blood has collected around Neville's thigh and ankle. His broken wrist is swollen and he has a bad bump on his forehead. He coughs, spits, raises his head...

The atmosphere of the Embarcadero has changed. Gone is the deadness and silence--replaced by SOUNDS. Some far off, some closeby. Activity. There is life. Some kind of life. The dog's defenses are way up. He sniffs and growls.

The Land Rover is about fifty feet away. Such a short distance, but now, for Neville, in this condition, it is more like fifty miles. He examines his wrist, his ankle. The blood has coagulated and he looks to the thigh. He rips part of his shirt into a tourniquet. It's difficult to work with the broken wrist, but he manages to stop the bleeding. He tries to stand, but that is a joke. The ankle is bad enough, but the thigh wound is just too deep--it can't take the pressure. He falls back to the asphalt and catches his breath. He finds the knife, clutches it in his fist--just in case--and begins to drag himself toward the Land Rover.

SOUNDS. MOVEMENT. All around him. Something--footsteps?--circling the area. Neville accelerates his pace. The dog viciously growls, BARKS! And then Neville HEARS it, too. SNARLING. HOWLS. Not footsteps. Paws on pavement.

Neville knows what's coming and it terrifies him. Again, he tries to stand, but falls hard onto the street. He drags himself toward the vehicle, and his dog begins to circle, BARKING, urging him to move faster. Neville stops when he sees the first one...

A BLACK DOG. A hemocvte dog. Standing on top of a pile of rubble. Watching him with icy grey eyes. The beast's fangs are bared--long, sharp, vicious things. It assesses Neville and his dog. It BARKS AND HOWLS.

Neville's about twenty feet from the Rover. He remembers the MACHINE GUN on the roof and yells at his dog.

NEVILLE

THE GUN! GET THE GUN!

But this isn't "Rin-Tin-Tin." The poor thing has no idea what Neville means.

NEVILLE

GET THE FUCKING GUN!

No use. Neville presses on, dragging his wounded body toward the Land Rover. Holds tightly to the KNIFE when he sees...

FIVE MORE DOGS. DANE, BROWN, BOXER, WHITE, and GREY. All muscular, sharp-fanged, and icy-eyed. They snarl and sniff, calmly waiting, gauging their best attack...

The dog moves in close to Neville, guarding. Neville fears the worst. Hits the dog with his arm, instructing him...

NEVILLE

GO! RUN! Get the hell out of here!

The dog doesn't move.

NEVILLE