I am Legend

NEVILLE

Seven. (a plea) If you could see her...

KRIPPEN

I'd be happy to recommend someone, but

there's really nothing I can do.

NEVILLE

Please...

Krippen's SECRETARY pops her head in...

SECRETARY

The "Nightline" crew is here.

KRIPPEN

Have them set up in the lab, Margie. Oh!

And let Ben know they're here.

SECRETARY

Right.

She exits. Neville feels insignificant, rejected.

KRIPPEN

Going to be on TV tonight.

Neville sort of nods. Krippen scribbles a name and number on a piece of paper, gives it to Neville.

KRIPPEN

Dr. Tom Bernardi. He's the best pediatric

oncologist I know. Make sure you tell him

I referred you.

NEVILLE

We have a doctor.

KRIPPEN

Well. I see. If you'll excuse me, professor.

Neville nods, stands, as Krippen shows him the door.

NEVILLE

Sure.

INT. KRIPPEN CENTER - MAIN CORRIDOR - DAY

Krippen hurries to the LAB. Neville stands outside the office and crumples the piece of paper in his fist. Through a glass partition, we catch sight of a PATIENT. As if he senses Neville's stare, the man turns...

It is Cortman. Healthy. Human.

END FLASHBACK:

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - MEDICAL CENTER - DAY

Neville offers a bowl of food to the dog, but it is uninterested. Neville tries a dish of water. No reaction. The dog sadly curls up in a corner of the cage.

DISSOLVE TO:

Neville examines a recent blood sample from the dog under the microscope. His reaction tells us things are getting worse.

DISSOLVE TO:

Neville sits in the corner, on the floor, watching the dog slowly die. The poor thing is withering away to flesh and bone. Neville can't stand it. He rises, reaches for a GUN, and aims at the dog's heart. His arm hangs there, waiting.

The dog's pained eyes look to him... Why? Neville cannot do it. Lowers the gun. And makes the decision. He takes a syringe and begins to withdraw BLOOD from his own arm. He allows a catheter to pour the red liquid into a pan. when he's lost about half a pint, he stops the process, opens the cage door, places the dish inside, LOCKS it.

He cannot watch as the animal hungrily laps up the blood.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - ROOFTOP - NIGHT

Neville stands in the crow's nest, rifle nearby. He raises the night-vision binoculars to his eyes ... Nothing. No sign

The dog. Forever changed. Rejuvenated by the blood. Possessing a new strength. It paces, gnaws on the bars, and growls at Neville. The icy grey-blue eyes of the dog do not see a friend, a master. They see food. HOWWWWWWWWLLLLLLLLLL! The beast's appetite is great. The hunger painful. Neville curses himself for what he has done. SLAMS shut the door.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - MEDIA CENTER - NIGHT

Neville cranks MUSIC-Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. LOUD. Neville sits. Thinks. Nervous. Concerned. He lurches to the stereo and shuts it off. Is drawn to a stack of

VIDEOTAPES. Most labeled KRIPPEN. Another handful: CORTMAN.

A TV SCREEN FLICKERS TO LIFE: NIGHTLINE with Ted Koppel. Neville stares. Painful memories...

TED KOPPEL

... and this is 'Nightline.' The world of medicine

has seen its share of miracle cures, from polio

vaccine to heart transplants. However, all past

achievements may pale in comparison to the

work of Dr. John Krippen...

The tape FAST-FORWARDS. DR. KRIPPEN engages with Koppel...

KRIPPEN

The process is simple. A blood cell is

genetically engineered to incorporate the

properties of a virus. When this viragene is

introduced into a diseased circulatory system,

the new cells seek out the cancerous cells,

destroy them, and replace them with healthy

cells.

TED KOPPEL

There is some concern, though, doctor,

because of the viral element.

KRIPPEN

We need to use a powerful virus, yes,

but the virus itself is made impotent.

We simply utilize its essential characteristics,

its benefits--rapid duplication, molecular strength.

This isn't really a virus. It's not contagious,

it's not destructive.

Neville LAUGHS. He fast-forwards. The video image now includes CORTMAN. He and Krippen are seated in the lab. Cortman is the picture of vitality and health. Although a bit pale, he's muscular and charismatic...

TED KOPPEL

Joining us from Berkeley is "Patient One,"

Mr. Benjamin Cortman.

CORTMAN

Hello.

TED KOPPEL

Mr. Cortman, one year ago, you were

diagnosed with terminal cancer. Leukemia.

CORTMAN

That's correct.

TED KOPPEL

And today?

CORTMAN

I'm cured. Thanks to Dr. Krippen.

Every blood cell in my body is 100% healthy.

Better than ever before.

TED KOPPEL

Indeed. There have been rumors, Dr. Krippen,

that your viragene not only eliminates disease,

but revitalizes the system as well.

KRIPPEN

That is a positive side effect, yes.

TED KOPPEL

What other side effects are there?

CORTMAN

None, really, that...

KRIPPEN

... Photosensitivity...

CORTMAN

... Oh. Yeah. The sun... My skin is really

sensitive to light

KRIPPEN

Which has to do with blood supply...

KOPPEL

Yes, and that brings up the harshest

criticism of your work, Dr. Krippen.

The tremendous amount of donated blood

needed to pursue these experiments...

ELLEN'S VOICE

He's very handsome.

Neville turns...

REVEAL we are now in his OLD BEDROOM. Watching TV with his wife. Their daughter GRACE fast asleep in Neville's arns. (NIGHTLINE continues in the background).

NEVILLE

Krippen?

ELLEN

No, silly, the other one. The patient.

NEVILLE

He was there today. I saw him.

He had scary eyes.

ELLEN

Scary is attractive. Don't you know

anything, Bobby?

CLOSE ON CORTMAN'S FACE. VIDEO STATIC. The NIGHTLINE tape has been replaced. We are now watching an in-house INTERVIEW with Cortman inside the Krippen Center.

He is inside a PADDED CELL. The camera recording this must have been behind a thick wall of PLEXIGLASS. Cortman STARES at the lens. He is naked save a pair of boxer shorts. His body is muscular, his extremely pale skin drenched in sweat. He's lost most of his hair and his eyes are ice.

He's in a very agitated state. He paces, no stalks around the cell, occasionally pounding his fists against or headbutting the plexiglass wall. KRIPPEN'S DISEMBODIED VOICE is piped into the cell.

KRIPPEN'S VOICE

Ben?

Cortman SLAMS his body into a wall.

KRIPPEN'S VOICE

Ben? Why don't you try to calm, down?

Cortman RUSHES to the plexiglass and sneers...

CORTMAN

Calm? CALM?! YOU WANT ME TO

FUCKING CALM DOWN?!!

YOU GO TO HELL, KRIPPEN.

YOU GO THERE AND MEET YOUR

MAKER.

KRIPPEN'S VOICE

Ben...

CORTMAN

GIVE IT TO ME! ! ! !

We HEAR Krippen push something through a SLIDING TRAY into the padded cell. Inside, Cortman LUNGES for the contents of the drawer--a plastic packet of BLOOD and a syringe.

KRIPPEN'S VOICE

Please use the syringe this time, Ben.

Cortman throws the needle. RIPS open the blood packet and DRINKS. Every drop. Licks the plastic clean. Mouth smeared with crimson, he placidly approaches the plexiglass...

CORTMAN

You don't understand, doctor.

It's the taste. The flavor.

(lost in reverie) I can feel it...

Feel it inside me. (laughs)

God. It's so beautiful...

The blood races through his veins, apparent to us due to the translucence of Cortman's flesh. His muscles grow-pectorals, biceps. A transformation from man to superman.

CORTMAN

You did this. You made me. I am the

future, Dr. Krippen. Live with that.

VIDEO STATIC. A new tape. KRIPPEN. A shell of a man. A wreck. In the b.g., a

blaring ALARM and flashing EMERGENCY STROBE LIGHTS. From head to toe, he is soaked with water. He clutches computer print-outs. Clears his throat and tries to muster up his former pride and dignity...

KRIPPEN

The latest estimates have it spreading to the

rest of the country in six days. By the time

it hits New York, ninety-five percent of the

population of California will be infected.

The fighting in the streets... The bloodshed...

I fear is nothing but a harbinger of the real

battle yet to come. (fights back nausea) We

have determined that exposure to sunlight,

plasma starvation, oxygen depravation, massive

blood loss, and severe damage to the heart are

the only lethal means of stopping those... infected.

Even so, cremation is the sole guarantee that

reanimation will not occur.

He wipes moisture from his eyes. The ALARM stops. Somewhere, beyond the thick walls of the center, we HEAR the CRIES of the Hemocytes...

VOICES OUTSIDE

Krippen... Krippen...

KRIPPEN

Yes. Well. My latest blood test reveals

I am in stage two of the disease. Already

my mind is beginning to deteriorate into

fantasies of savagery. I feel the desire to

feed, but I cannot bear the thought of it.

Nor can I bear the thought of...

Of Cortman ripping me open. Gutting me.

Feasting...

He pulls something from his pocket. A LIGHTER. We finally notice an object in the background. An empty GASOLINE CAN.

That's not water he's covered with.

KRIPPEN

God forgive me.

He ignites the lighter. His body BURSTS INTO FLAMES.

Neville shuts off the TV. Why? Why did I watch it again? Why torture myself?! He presses his fists against his temples. Closes his eyes. HOWWWWWWWWWLLLLLLLLLL... The dog again. It BARKS and MOANS...

NEVILLE

STOP IT! STOP!

Neville watches the SECURITY MONITORS. Where are they? HOOOOWWWWLLLL... Damn dog. Neville STORMS to the medical center. He looks like he could strangle the beast,

but he stops and leans against the door...

NEVILLE

I'm sorry...

DISSOLVE TO:

MORNING. Neville asleep. Slumped against the med center door. All is quiet. But the silence is broken by a HORRIFIC CRY OF PAIN. Neville bolts awake. He flings open the door.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - MEDICAL CENTER - MORNING

A SHAFT OF SUNLIGHT slices through the room to the cage. The dog desperately tries to stay away, but the light touches its tail and sizzles. The dog CRIES. Neville shoves the cage aside and covers the window with a blanket. He moves to tend to the dog, hut it snarls at him as he approaches.

The dog's body is thin and weak. Its eyes are blank, the tongue a sick, pasty white. Neville draws blood from himself, but places the packets in a refrigerator. The dog sees them, and it drives him mad with thirst.

He yelps and whines, begging for the blood, but Neville betrays no emotion.

How could he torture the poor thing like this?

EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - OUTER FENCE - DAY

Neville walks the perimeter.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY

A stoic Neville eats breakfast.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - GREENHOUSE - DAY

Neville tends to his garden.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - GARAGE - DAY

Neville repairs the Land Rover. Four o'clock.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - MEDICAL CENTER - DAY

Neville enters, careful not to allow in sunlight. Switches on a flashlight. Its beam finds the dog. Inside the cage. Dead. This is what Neville expected. He covers the cage with a blanket and retrieves the blood from the refrigerator.

EXT. WOODS/PARK - DAY

The Land Rover drives over rough terrain, through an unpopulated, thickly wooded park area, and stops at Land's End, overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

Neville climbs out, machine gun in hand, and surveys the area. The dirt reveals SMALL ANIMAL TRACKS and up above, in the sky, are a few SEAGULLS. Neville can't believe it. He hasn't seen a bird in quite awhile. When they see him, however, they take flight, soaring out to the ocean.

Neville steps down to the BEACH. To his right, a LIGHTHOUSE and PIER. To his left, built into a hillside, is a THICK IRON DOOR. A weather-beaten sign reads SAN FRANCISCO UNDERGROUND TRANSIT--MAINTENANCE TUNNEL.

INT. LIGHTHOUSE - DAY

Neville searches. Empty. Nothing lives here. When he reaches the top, Neville looks out at the majestic ocean, the sun beginning its descent. He looks down at the PIER. And spies an old TUGBOAT moored there.

INT. TUGBOAT - DUSK

Neville takes a closer look. Apparently, the craft is still seaworthy.

What about it, Bob? Just go...

EXT. BEACH - DUSK

Neville removes the cage from the Rover and pulls off the blanket. He fills a syringe with his blood, takes the already-prepared packets and rests them on the ground. He looks at the dog's dead eyes and whispers...

NEVILLE

Good-bye.

He opens the cage door, injects the beast with blood, then quickly runs to the Land Rover and locks himself inside.

INT. LAND ROVER - DUSK

Neville watches as the dog's body twitches back to life. It lifts its head and color--icy blue-grey--returns to its eyes. They find Neville. He exchanges one last look with the dog, then speeds away, unable to linger.

EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - NIGHT

Again, Cortman and the Hemocytes do not come.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT

A forlorn Neville sits at the table, his dinner uneaten.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Neville watches the surveillance monitors. Nothing.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM NIGHT

Neville in bed, wide awake.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - MORNING

Neville stares at his uneaten breakfast. In a sudden BURST of VIOLENCE, he SWIPES the food onto the floor.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - DAY

Although it's the middle of the day, Neville lies in bed, eyes staring blankly ahead, gently rocking himself.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - MEDITATION ROOM - DAY

Neville stares at the religious icons. They mean nothing.

EXT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - DAY

The Land Rover ROARS out of the compound.

EXT. SUBURBS - DAY

The VEHICLE stops outside a decaying grocery store.

INT. GROCERY STORE - DAY

Neville fills a SATCHEL with bottles of LIQUOR--scotch, wine, gin, vodka.

What the hell, grab CIGARETTES, too.

INT. NEVILLE'S HOUSE - NIGHT

Neville stands at the kitchen table. Fills a goblet with wine, a tumbler with scotch, and a martini glass with gin. The ritual is complete. Just one last step. Just go ahead... He lifts the tumbler of scotch to his lips. Stops.

He returns it to the table and goes to the media center. Locates and plays a VIDEOTAPE. One of his "diary" tapes, clearly made awhile ago. This Neville is pudgy, pasty, heavily bearded, and very drunk. He holds a PISTOL in one hand and a bottle of booze in the other.

NEVILLE (ON TAPE)

... Nobody tells Bob Neville what to do.

That's because there is nobody--not one

damn body--to tell me anything! (laughs)

What the hell difference does it make,