I-5 (a screenplay) (c)1994 Richard Katz

Not in traditional screenplay format, but pretty close. There are some anomalies of format introduced by going to HTML. RK 1997

If you didn't really want to read a screenplay, you can go Back to Richard Katz's homepage

Not sure? Want to read a synopsis of I-5, so you can decide if you want to peruse the full text? These things do take a lot of imagination, to be able to play the movie in your head just from reading words on a page. A synopsis helps, but it's only a crutch.

FADE IN

EXT. NUCLEAR POWER PLANT CONSTRUCTION SITE -- DAY 0 #

KAREN Schuler and other SECURITIES DEALERS in hardhats are at a construction site, listening to PUBLIC RELATIONS MAN from Coastal Light and Power. Trucks and CONSTRUCTION WORKERS are in the near foreground. The containment tower under construction looms in the background. Karen is doing due diligence with a pair of opera binoculars.

PR MAN

...in September of this year, one hundred days after this plant goes on line with low power, essentially all of the deferred costs of construction become immediately applied to current expenses. The P.U.C. has agreed with our Management,that A-F-U-D-C...

(glances at BREEN)

ZOOM IN on containment tower through Karen's binoculars to Construction Workers high in the air on a suspended platform. A WORKER picks up a large open end wrench and passes it to a second WORKER, who unbuckles his safety harness to reach for it. One end of the platform drops two feet. Workers hold on. A second later, Workers and equipment are thrown to the side, and plunge three hundred feet to the ground.

CUT TO:

EXT. NUCLEAR POWER PLANT PARKING LOT -- DAY 0 #

Karen, STEINER, and Steiner's PROTEGE are approaching a rented limousine. CHAUFFEUR holds the front passenger-side door for Karen. Karen, Steiner, and Protege all wave heartily to BRINKMANN, who waves back from the open window of his own limousine. Cadillac ambulance speeds by going to the plant.

CUT TO:

INT. BRINKMANN'S LIMOUSINE - DAY 0 #

Brinkmann rolls up his window, makes a call over his radiotelephone while reading a bound document labelled Sincere.

BRINKMANN

(into radiotelephone)

Lillian?

LILLIAN

(over radiotelephone)

Yes, Mr Brinkmann?

Page 2.

BRINKMANN

(into radiotelephone)

Lillian, we're going to go ahead with the underwriting.

CUT TO:

INT. LILLIAN'S OFFICE IN NYC -DAY 0 #

LILLIAN

(into telephone)

Yessir.

(beat)

Mr Brinkmann,

Lillian looks out the window at film crew on the street corner many stories below.

LILLIAN

(continued; into telephone)

that Director from the film company called, and he wants to use your office. In the movie. He said

BRINKMANN (O.S.)

(interrupting; over radiotelephone)

No. They can't use my office.

CUT TO:

INT. BRINKMANN'S LIMOUSINE - DAY #

BRINKMANN

(into radiotelephone)

They can use the trading room. Hello? Hello? Lillian?

Brinkmann "hangs up", reads the Wall Street Journal tombstones while watching Wall St. Week on his TV. He pours himself an Ocean Spray, and watches a trainload of piggybacks go by.

CUT TO:

EXT. OVERLOOKING NUKE PLANT PARKING LOT -- DAY 0 #

Through-the-binocular SHOT of Karen getting in the limo. REVEAL BOB RICHARDS, who is keeping an eye on Karen for her employer.

EXT. NUCLEAR POWER PLANT PARKING LOT -- DAY 0 #

Chauffeur closes Karen's door

STEINER V.O.

What do you think?

KAREN V.O.

Same old shit. All these utility jerks are a day late and about a billion dollars short.

Page 3.

STEINER V.O.

Yeah, yeah. So what's the deal?

CUT TO:

INT. HIRED CORPORATE LIMOUSINE -- DAY 0 #

KAREN

Hundred and ten million tax-exempt pollution control facilities revenue bonds issued by San Luis Obispo County, initial annual rate seven point one two five percent.

GUARD WAVES LIMO OUT OF THE PLANT AT THE SECURITY GUARD SHACK.

STEINER

Yeah, yeah. So how much do we clear on this one?

KAREN

(looking backward over the car seat)

Average four and a quarter percent.

(beat)

I can't believe people actually buy this crap after we make the offering.

STEINER

Yeah, yeah, yeah. So -- how much?

KAREN

Thirteen million.

STEINER

See? This nuclear stuff is hot!

KAREN

They all screw up in the real world. Washington Public Power Supply is dead in the water, Midland is just about dead, Seabrook is dying.

(looking through windshield)

I just hope one of these mechanical marvels doesn't crap out before our little army of retail brokers can unload all this -- paper!

(beat)

Our "Account Executives". And their "clients".

(beat)

Christ, that'd be a mess. I wonder if these nuclear geniuses carry insurance?

(looking over the carseat again)

What the hell was going on with the ambulance?

Steiner has fallen asleep. Karen turns back to the windshield, casting a glance at the interesting-looking chauffeur.

Page 4. NB Got the idea on the format? Good. I'm not gonna go thru another 118 pages of this script and click the mouse a zillion times to make the outdents characteristic of Action, Parentheticals, and Dialogue; and the Dialogue Bold. I think you've got the idea by now. What follows is just the way the script was digested by Claris Home Page. If you read this far, you're hooked on the content anyway and the hell with the form. If you're a Producer, email the author and get a nicely formatted copy of I-5 in the mail.

PROTEGE O.S.

No problem. The Feds put a ceiling on liability for nuclear plants.

KAREN

A ceiling! The Price-Anderson Act -- a five hundred sixty-seven million dollar deductible.

PROTEGE O.S.

You couldn't prove it by me, Karen. We're sure glad you keep on top of all that technical stuff. We're getting together with the Shearson people for some California cuisine. How about you?

KAREN

No. Thanks anyway. I just want to get back to the hotel.

(opening her briefcase, getting to work)

I'll catch up with you Monday.

(to Chauffeur)

I'd like to go the Century Plaza.

Chauffeur nods. Limousine cruising down Highway 101.

KAREN FANTASIZES SEXUALLY ABOUT THE CHAUFFEUR.

KAREN (cont.)

Will there be an extra charge?

CHAUFFEUR

I can run you by there. It's on my way home.

KAREN

You drive this home?

CHAUFFEUR

I own it.

CUT TO:

EXT. LIMOUSINE CRUISING PAST THE SANTA BARBARA COAST -- DAY 0 #

KAREN V.O.

That's interesting. You from L.A.?

CHAUFFEUR V.O.

I'm from New York. My family is from Kenya.

KAREN V.O.

So am I. Queens. My family was from Grenada.

Page 5.

CHAUFFEUR V.O.

All riiight! Grenada!

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. KAREN'S HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT 1 #

A room in the Century Plaza Hotel. The door opens inward, the lights are switched on, TITLES ROLL, Karen enters. She sets her briefcase on the bureau without opening it, takes off her jacket, tosses it on the spare bed, and goes into the bathroom immediately to RUN A TUB OF WATER, O.S. After taking off some more of her clothes, she unlocks the briefcase to get something to read in the tub. She picks out a report with a color photograph of a nuclear reactor containment vessel on its cover and "Coastal Light and Power -- 1981......Annual Report."

KAREN

(sarcastic)

Fascinating.

Karen also picks up the alumni magazine from her Ivy League college. She disappears into the bathroom, toting the telephone and magazines. The water is adjusted a bit, and she settles into the tub, WITH A SPLASH, O.S. PAGES RUSTLE. Occasional SPLASHING. END TITLES.

KAREN (O.S.)

Hello there, Operator? What's the area code for Oakland, California?

(pause; synthesized voice says Four One Five)

QUICK DISSOLVE TO:

INT. BARTON'S OFFICE -- NIGHT 1 #

A classic 1950's vintage stainless steel semitrailer has both of its end doors wide open. Lights are blazing inside. The interior of the trailer has been tastefully outfitted as an office, with a window or two, a desk, a wood stove, telephone, file cabinet, etc. Oddball bits of trucking paraphernalia are on shelves or hanging on hooks -- chains, ropes, spare parts, an extra set of air horns. MUFFLED RUMBLING NOISE of a Cummins diesel is heard, in the yard just outside the office trailer. Espresso coffee pot on the wood stove.

Overdrive magazine on back of chair.

BARTON Mullridge is sitting at the desk at the far end of the trailer, wearing a Western hat, boots, jeans, and a tee shirt that says "Mongoose Freight Lines", with a picture of a mongoose riding on a flatbed tractor-trailer.

The telephone RINGS, LOUDLY, its jangle echoed by a LOUD BUZZER out in the yard. Barton jumps with a start when the buzzer goes off.

Page 6.

BARTON

(into telephone, businesslike)

Mongoose Freight Lines. Statewide service, general commodities. What can we do for you today? uh, tonight?

KAREN O.S.

This is Karen Schuler. Is Barton Mullridge there?

A SPLASH is heard, O.S.

BARTON

(into telephone)

Wait a minute. I'll get'em.

KAREN O.S.

Thank you.

Another SPLASH.

BARTON

(into telephone, in his more normal voice)

Hello. Karen?

KAREN O.S.

Barton! Is that you?

BARTON

(into telephone)

Yeah. Long time no see.

KAREN O.S.

I'm in California. In Los Angeles.

Lots of SPLASHING.

BARTON

(into telephone)

You're visiting?

KAREN O.S.

I'm out here on business. I...I thought of you when I saw your name in the Alumni Gazette. It says here you're living in Oakland.

BARTON

(into telephone)

Ten years!

Barton is fiddling with some toy trucks on the desk.

KAREN O.S.

I just thought I would call.

Sounds of telephone SHIFTING from ear to ear.

Page 7.

BARTON

(into telephone)

Nice of you. Maybe we can get together.

KAREN O.S.

Good idea. What are you doing tomorrow?

BARTON

(into telephone)

Geez, I have to work.

CUT TO:

INT. KAREN'S HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT 1 #

Karen is standing about in her room with no clothes on at all, holding a towel and a telephone.

KAREN

(into telephone)

Oh, that's a shame.

(pause)

What kind of work do you do? Are you doing any chemistry these days?

BARTON O.S.

Naaah.

(pause)

Trucks. I'm in the trucking business.

KAREN

(into telephone)

What kind of trucks?

BARTON O.S.

Tractor-trailers. Semis. Eighteen-wheelers. You know.

KAREN

(into telephone)

Oh, you mean big trucks!

BARTON O.S.

Yeah, a big truck.

KAREN

(into telephone)

You're a truckdriver?

CUT TO:

INT. BARTON'S OFFICE -- NIGHT 1 #

Barton no longer has his feet propped up on the desk, and is busy tossing various travel things in a very utilitarian travel bag. Barton picks up a large caliber semiautomatic pistol from its hiding place behind the desk.

Page 8.

He ejects the magazine and inspects the breech, then NOISILY checks the SLIDE ACTION.

KAREN O.S. (cont.)

What was that?

BARTON

(into telephone)

Oh, nothin'.

(beat)

One of the drivers called in sick.

Barton tosses the pistol and spare loaded magazine in the travel bag.

KAREN O.S.

Oh.

BARTON

(into telephone)

He was the only guy that could handle this stuff. Besides me. So I'm gonna take the load to L.A. Myself. Tonight.

KAREN O.S.

That's too bad. What is it?

BARTON

(into telephone)

Just freight.

KAREN O.S.

I'm leaving for San Francisco tomorrow.

CUT TO:

INT. KAREN'S HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT 1 #

Karen has gotten dressed for bed in a short cotton nightshirt.

KAREN (cont.)

(into telephone)

But I don't really have to be there until Monday.

BARTON O.S.

For work?

KAREN

(into telephone)

Yes.

BARTON O.S.

And what do you do for a living?

KAREN

(into telephone)

Securities. I'm a bond analyst.

Page 9.

BARTON O.S.

Oh.

(beat)

What kinds of bonds? Bail bonds?

CUT TO:

INT. CHEAP HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT 1 #

Bob Richards is holed up in a cheap room nearby Karen, snooping on her conversation.

KAREN O.S., V.O.

(bugged telephone voice)

No.

BARTON O.S., V.O.

(bugged telephone voice)

Savings bonds? Performance bonds? Municipal bonds?

KAREN O.S., V.O.

(bugged telephone voice)

Nooo.

BARTON O.S., V.O.

(bugged telephone voice)

Revenue bonds? Treasury bonds? Epoxy bonds? Bond futures? Indexes? I give up.

CUT TO:

INT. KAREN'S HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT 1 #

KAREN

(into telephone)

Utility bonds.

BARTON O.S.

Sounds great. Like power plants, you mean. Like you're on Wall Street.

KAREN

(into telephone)

Like, yeah, I'm on Wall Street.

INT. BARTON'S OFFICE -- NIGHT 1 #

BARTON (cont.)

(into telephone)

Hey, Karen, you were always pretty game to try something new. You want to go for a ride in a truck? Could you hold on for just a minute? Thanx.

Barton puts down the phone, takes his stereotypical trucker's chain-drive wallet out of his pocket, opens it, and counts upwards of ten hundred dollar bills.

Page 10.

He removes the screws from the back of one of the spare air horns, takes out a few more hundred dollar bills, and replaces the screws. He sits back down in his chair, removes one boot and one sock, counts the money from the air horn, and installs it in his boot.

CU Barton's business card. Barton checks off and initials a rate agreement he has been avoiding, agonizing over a memorandum and Bill of Lading from someone in his office, about a 15% vs a 25% discount.

BARTON

And why in the fuck should I give this fucking guy a discount?

(reading aloud and tilting the paper)

"Barton: Because ...otherwise... we will...lose the account."

He grimaces, and gives the shipper the 25% off (changes the 1 to a 2) then throws something against the wall in anger. Barton picks up the phone again.

BARTON (cont.)

(into telephone)

I'm back.

KAREN O.S.

I never rode in a big truck before. That sounds like it might be fun.

BARTON

(into telephone)

Listen, I'll be in L.A. tomorrow. I'll meet you somewhere, we'll pick up some freight for a return load, we'll drive back together. You'll get a big kick out of it. See how the trucking biz works.

CUT TO:

INT. KAREN'S HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT 1 #

Karen is climbing into bed.

KAREN

(into telephone)

I'll bet I will. I'm at the Century Plaza. You know where that is?

BARTON O.S.

Yeah. I'll meet you out front. Ten A.M.

KAREN

(into telephone)

See you then. Bye.

Page 11.

Karen goes to bed, while

CUT TO:

INT. BARTON'S OFFICE -- NIGHT 1 #

Barton is headed out the door for work.

BARTON

(into telephone)

Bye.

Barton pours a cup of espresso into a demitasse cup, shoulders his bag, turns off all the lights except one, and closes up the trailer from the outside.

CUT TO:

EXT. MONGOOSE TRUCKING CO. YARD -- NIGHT 1 #

Barton walks out into the dark trucking yard. Diesel RUMBLE. A tractor is hitched to a flatbed trailer loaded with an exhibition of large minimalist steel sculpture. Barton checks the ropes for tightness and bumps the tires

BARTON (cont.)

(surveying the heavy duty fine art and sipping espresso)

Fuckin' junk.

One of the ropes is a bit loose; he unties it, and reties it. Load is festooned with red flags and WIDE LOAD signs.

BARTON (cont.)

(imitating)

"What's it good for?" "You gonna melt that scrap iron down and make somethin' useful out of it?"

(not imitating)

Well, shit, I may not know what I like, but I know what art is.

Barton empties the demitasse cup, leaves the cup in the mailbox.

CUT TO:

INT. BARTON'S TRUCK CAB -- NIGHT 1 #

Barton switches on the running lights and dashboard illumination. CU of dashboard, ZOOM in on air pressure gauge.

CUT TO:

EXT. MONGOOSE TRUCKING CO. YARD -- NIGHT 1 #

The truck takes off with a GNASHING of gears and DIESEL NOISE, then abruptly stops. Barton walks back to the locked warehouse

Page 12.

to grab a small parcel stamped "Rush" from a pile of freight packages. He returns to the truck.

CUT TO:

EXT. DESERTED STREET IN HIGH-TECH INDUSTRIAL PARK -- NIGHT 1 #

At the first stop sign, Barton stops the truck outside a high-tech-looking building. Barton leaves the truck idling in the middle of the street, and walks quickly up to one of the industrial condos. He tosses the "Rush" package in the mailslot of a door labelled "Designer Genes".

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. FREEWAYS -- NIGHT 1 #

Driving from Oakland to Los Angeles. Prominent Transamerica Pyramid. Prominent windfarms at Altamont Pass.

Miles-to-go markers are displayed between Oakland and L.A. on I-80 and I-5. The journey has one static interlude, when Barton stops at the Brake Check Area at the top of the Grapevine to check that his air pressure guage still reads steady when the brakes are applied.

On the last leg of the Grapevine, another truck loses control on the 6% grade part and crashes into a fiery heap near Castaic.

Day is breaking.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. L.A. CITY STREETS -- DAYBREAK DAY 1 #

Several L.A. street signs and scenes are displayed between I-5 and the L.A. County Art Museum.

CUT TO:

EXT. L.A. COUNTY ART MUSEUM -- DAYBREAK DAY 1 #

DIESEL NOISE. Barton unties the load. He gets back in the cab, shuts off the motor, gets the pistol from his bag, checks to make sure the first shell is chambered, parks it behind the seat, and goes to sleep.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. L.A. COUNTY ART MUSEUM -- DAY 1 #

A WORKMAN approaches Barton's rig parked in the museum yard. Early morning QUIET. The Workman bangs on the door and walks away. Two forklifts and a crane drive up noisily and unload the pieces (which are all elements of one large piece) MONUMENTAL MUSIC. SCULPTOR is present. Well dressed MUSEUM ART DIRECTOR and MUSEUM DOCENTS stop by on a tour. Unloading action rocks the cab.

Most of the piece is already in place, delivered in previous loads; this load completes the sculpture.

Page 13.

One of the forklifts cruises up to the driver's side window of the cab.

Barton's hand and paperwork are extended, the Art Museum Forklift Operator signs on the dotted line, the paperwork is retracted, and the forklift drives away. Barton climbs out.

BARTON

(gazing long at the sculpture)

Fuckin' beautiful.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. DRIVE-UP HASH HOUSE IN L.A. -- DAY 1 #

Barton drives up to a beanery on a wide street in L.A., doubleparks the rig with the motor idling, and orders a bacon and egg sandwich and coffee to go.

While he is waiting for it he spots three guys in suits break up their quick meeting and go out to their three cars and drive away. Barton runs back to his truck, and takes all three parking spots. He calls his own office collect from the pay phone.

MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY O.S.

Mongoose Freight Lines. Statewide service, general commodities. What can we do for you today?

BARTON

(into telephone)

Hi.

MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY O.S.

Hello Barton. Where are you?

BARTON

(into telephone)

L.A. I just dropped at the Museum.

CUT TO:

INT. MONGOOSE TRUCKING YARD DESPATCH OFFICE -- DAY 1 #

The Mongoose despatch office is housed in a converted tractor-trailer, very spare and well ordered, with a stack of today's mail and last night's demitasse cup. MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY is a plainly dressed young woman. The converted tractor-trailer has a wood and metal porch, with a few chairs for DRIVERS just outside the door. A MECHANIC is working over a Cummins 262 out of frame, in his work area next to the trailer. Prominent "Truckers Welcome" sign.

BARTON O.S. (cont.)

I'm gettin' a bite to eat and then I'm goin' to the docks to get the container and then to pick up the potter's clay for Bernie.

Page 14.

MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY

(into telephone, glancing at the computer)

Just right.

BARTON O.S.

Everything O.K.?

DRIVER wheels in, hauling a container, and parks with his engine idling just a trucklength or so from the porch.

MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY

(into telephone, hand over ear)

Just fine. No problems.

BARTON O.S.

O.K. Talk to you later.

MONGOOSE DRIVER #2

The boss pulled a load?

MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY

(into telephone)

Oh, Barton, that awful insurance guy came by. To check a number or something, on that old Peterbilt parked out back. He wanted us to jack it up so he could look underneath it.

MONGOOSE DRIVER #1

Drove it himself, with that old White a'his. Out on the boulevard!

MONGOOSE DRIVER #2

That load'a scrap arn?

MONGOOSE DRIVER #3

I'll be go'ed to Hell!

Drivers quiet down.

MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY

(into telephone)

George told him that if he was so good at numbers, bein' an insurance man and all, then he ought to be able to just figure it out. Or else he could just make some numbers up out of thin air like they usually do.

Drivers laugh their asses off.

MONGOOSE DRIVER #2

Hey! Ask'em if he remembered to put a bottle of Geritol in the tank.

cut to:

Page 15.

EXT. DRIVE-UP HASH HOUSE IN L.A. -- DAY 1 #

Barton collects his food.

CUT TO:

EXT. TRUCK WASH -- DAY 1 #

Barton and his truck get cleaned up.

CUT TO:

EXT. ENTRANCEWAY OF CENTURY PLAZA HOTEL -- DAY 1 #

Karen is waiting in front of the hotel. Bob Richards is reading the newspaper (Daily Variety) in the lobby. Inside is a copy of Closed Circuit Monthly, with a picture of a remote pan and zoom unit. Barton's empty tractor- trailer rounds the corner. CONCIERGE eyes it nervously. The truck RUMBLES to the entranceway. Barton sets the parking brakes (HISS OF AIR), climbs down, and walks around to meet Karen. Barton looks pretty beat after driving all night.

CONCIERGE

Sir, the entrance for deliveries is in the rear of the hotel.

BARTON

(shouting)

Gotta speak up.

CONCIERGE

(shouting)

The truck entrance is in the back.

BARTON

(gesturing toward an empty trailer deck)

I was looking for the passenger dock. Is this it?

KAREN

Hi! You're right on time.

Concierge steps back a few feet.

BARTON

(opening the passenger-side door)

Hi! How ya doin'? Make it look good. Everybody's watching, and this is L.A. Like this.

Barton scales the side of his cabover to put Karen's luggage on the doghouse between the seats. Karen climbs in and settles down like a linedriver. Barton gets through three or four gears on the way out.

LONG SHOT of rear of truck going down the driveway, with plain black mudflaps, faded safety stripes, a large pintle hook, air gladhands, and a Mongoose logo.

Page 16.

KAREN (O.S.)(V.O.)

You didn't shave.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. CONTAINERIZED STEAMSHIP PIER -- DAY 1 #

Approaching a huge stack of forty foot sea containers in a yard in Long Beach, the Queen Mary in the background.

A huge forklift rouses itself, ROARS over to the neatly piled containers, and tophandles a gleaming aluminum box off the top of the stack. The truck interposes itself between the stack and the forklift which positions the forty foot box gingerly on the forty foot trailer. Karen observes. A Jeep-like vehicle roars up smartly. EQUIPMENT CONTROL PERSON speaks briefly to Barton, changes his paperwork, motions to Forklift Operator, who moves the 40' container rearward and jams a 20' container ahead of it.

CUT TO:

EXT. OUTSIDE CONTAINER YARD -- DAY 1 #

Barton leans on a bright orange winch bar to tighten one of the tiedown straps across the top of the container. Barton gets back in the cab.

KAREN

What do you need two of them for?

BARTON

Make more money. About twice as much. Second one's all gravy.

CUT TO:

EXT. LOS ANGELES FREEWAY -- DAY1 #

Barton's rig negotiates a six lane freeway. FREEWAY NOISE. The cars are constantly cutting in and out, and causing the truck to drop gears.

BARTON

Yer surfin'.

CUT TO:

EXT. LOADING DOCK -- DAY 1 #

Barton is standing on the loading dock of a clay manufacturer in City of Industry. The truck is backed up to the dock with the 40' container doors latched open. Forklift brings up a pallet of sacks of dusty chemicals. Barton extends a twenty dollar bill to the Clay Plant Forklift Operator. Forklift lifts the pallet and drives it on into the truck.

SHOT of Forklift Operator maneuvering a few pallets of clay into the 20' container that's been jackknifed around to receive them.

CUT TO:

Page 17.

EXT. OVERPASS ON I-5 -- DAY 1 #

Driving past Pasadena, Saugus, the Grapevine, Magic Mountain, etc.

A FATHER on rollerskates and his KID on a sixteen inch bicycle are perched on a freeway overpass watching the freeway. Prominent I-5 sign. Father has on a tee shirt from a trucking company, and a chain-drive wallet. Kid is wearing a helmet. Traffic rolls underneath them; the tops of the trucks are only a few feet below. While they are at their observation post, a COWBOY TRUCKER #1 in a chrome rig BLOWS his horn just as he blasts under the freeway. Kid jumps about two feet, looks a bit scared, hugs his Father's leg, then smiles.

FATHER

I'll bet you can make this guy coming up honk his horn. Go like this.

Father yanks on imaginary air horn. Kid imitates Father. Nothing happens as COMPANY DRIVER zooms underneath.

FATHER

That guy's a robot. Try this one. Do it like you mean it.

Kid tries again. COWBOY TRUCKER #2 makes eye contact with the kid and BLASTS his horn.

Kid laughs, yanks on imaginary air horn at the next one. COWBOY TRUCKER #3 makes eye contact with Kid and HONKS his horn.

CUT TO:

INT. I-5 NORTHBOUND-- DAY 1 #

POV through Barton's windshield.

KID (O.S.)

How come some of these guys are robots?

Characteristic HONK of Barton's truck.

CUT TO:

EXT. DRIVING PAST PYRAMID LAKE ON NORTHBOUND I-5 -- DAY 1 #

Barton and Karen leave the truck by the side of the road, run across eight lanes of fast freeway, skip down the steep embankment, and hop into the crystal clear pebbly lake. Nude, within site and SOUND of the freeway. Back up the embankment, change clothes, and back on the road. Barton grabs his winch bar and re- tightens the lumber straps. Barton STARTS the Diesel; exhaust drips downward before the stack drafts properly. Karen's nose twitches.

Page 18.

BARTON

Funny. You actually get to like the smell of burnt Diesel.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT.I-5 NORTHBOUND -- DAY 1 #

AERIAL MEDIUM SHOT. A baking hot spring day in California's Central Valley, five miles south of Kettleman City offramp of Interstate Five.

AERIAL LONG SHOT. A SECOND TRUCK half a mile back is gaining at ten or so miles an hour.

This truck is a black FREIGHTLINER CONVENTIONAL THREE-AXLE TRACTOR, lots of chrome and a flashy paint job, pulling an all- aluminum-construction FLATBED TRAILER loaded with dark blue fifty-five gallon drums, tied down with ropes and veeboards. Truck hauling drums begins to overtake truck hauling container.

BARTON O.S.

(shout)

Hey, check this out. Sonuvabitch must be turning eighty miles an hour.

KAREN O.S.

(also shouting)

Where?

TRUCK hauling drums overtakes Barton's truck hauling container. NOISE is augmented by V12 Detroit Diesel of second truck. THRU THE CLOSED PASSENGER WINDOW SHOT OF RON (the drumhauler) and REVERSE SHOT THRU DRIVER'S WINDOW OF BARTON -- The two Drivers acknowledge each other after the fashion of truckdrivers everywhere.

BARTON O.S.

This Freightliner comin' up in the hot lane. Pullin' a flatbed. He's in the rearview. No, not your rearview, mine. Never mind, here comes...there he goes.

KAREN O.S.

That's a nice truck. How come he's going so fast?

BARTON O.S.

I don't know. Brand new truck, gotta license to fly. Pedal to the metal, gonna boogie boogie boogie.

(pauses, not as loudly)

I sound like a goddam CB radio.

TRUCK hauling drums is now ahead of and to the left of BARTON'S truck.

KAREN O.S.

Look at that load. It's so neat.

Page 19.

CLOSE SHOT of front of both trucks. Headlights of cabover (in right hand lane) are turned on and off twice in rapid succession.

BARTON O.S.

Neat?

KAREN O.S.

Yeah, neat. Everything is so tidy.

CUT TO:

INT.I-5 NORTHBOUND THRU WINDSHIELD OF BARTON'S TRUCK -- DAY 1 #

BARTON's POV. Tail lights of flatbed flash on and off three times in rapid succession. Flatbed moves over into right hand lane, in front of cabover.

BARTON O.S.

Yeah, oh yeah, neat, like symmetrical.

KAREN O.S.

Right, symmetrical.

CUT TO:

INT.CAB OF TRUCK HAULING DRUMS -- DAY 1 #

RON (the drumhauler) has his right ear down by the floorboards, "listening" to a VIBRATION somewhere in the drive train.

RON

What the hell?

(hell has approximately three syllables)

HOWARD, Ron's codriver, emerges from sleeper, takes his seat.

HOWARD

(looking in rearview)

Hey Ron, that thur's a Japanese White. Ain't seen one'a them in I don't know how long.

RON

(lookin in the same rearview)

So 'tis.

HOWARD

Hey Ron, how come that model's called a Japanese White?

RON

(reflective, then definitive, flashing his turn signal)

I don't know.

CUT TO:

Page 20.

INT.I-5 NORTHBOUND THRU WINDSHIELD OF BARTON'S TRUCK -- DAY 1 #

BARTON O.S.

It's a straight load. Truckload shipment. Same stuff front to back. Easy to tie down. Good flatbed freight. I wonder what's in those barrels?

KAREN O.S.

What's a flatbed?

BARTON O.S.

You been pullin' one all morning.

Flatbed in front starts flashing a right turn.

BARTON O.S. (cont)

Lookit that dumb sonuvabitch now. Guy goes flying up the freeway like a goddamn rocketship just to get to an offramp.

KAREN O.S.

Why didn't he just wait?

BARTON O.S.

I don't know. Let's ask him.

Barton's left hand pushes up the right turn-signal lever.

KAREN O.S.

You're going to follow him? Just to ask him that?

BARTON O.S.

There's a truckstop down there. Cheap fuel.

KAREN O.S.

Finally...a bathroom.

CUT TO:

EXT. FREEWAY OFFRAMP -- DAY 1 #

Ron's truck moves to right, down offramp. Barton's truck follows. DECELERATION NOISE through three or four gears, then AIR BRAKE RELEASE HISSING through three or four applications. Both vehicles come to a near stop. Flatbed right turn signal comes on again. Flatbed accelerates smoothly around corner, OUT OF VIEW.

Barton's POV of opposite freeway onramp. HITCHHIKER is passed up by a string of tractor-trailers entering freeway -- flatbeds hauling machinery, vans with bright graphics, a bulk cement hauler, a semi end dump, and a set of doubles hauling tomatoes, dripping tomato juice. ENGINE NOISE is pronounced as Barton goes through several gears. Ron's truck makes a left turn, barely visible in the distance.

Page 21.

BARTON O.S.

Man, that guy's got power. I'm in second gear and he's in the coffeeshop. Big horse.

Driving past several fast food joints and filling stations. Barton's hand comes off the gearshift, and he gestures toward Karen's paperwork.

BARTON O.S. (cont.)

You sure have a lot of paperwork. You're missing all the scenery. Is that for your job?

KAREN O.S.

I'm a bondtrader, remember? It comes with the territory.

Karen's hand appears, displaying some office memoranda.

Page 21.

KAREN O.S. (cont.)

If you can't catch him, you can't ask him why he is in such a hurry. Why don't you call him up on this little radio over here, like Burt Reynolds was always doing in all the Smokey and the Bandit movies?

(beat)

Christ, it's hot!

CUT TO:

EXT. KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP -- DAY 1 #

Ron's truck rolls to a stop in the driveway. Truck rolls backward; Ron finally hits the brakes.

BARTON V.O.

Yeah, hot as a pistol.

CUT TO:

EXT. HWY 41 EASTBOUND NEAR KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP - DAY 1 #

Barton's truck approaching Kettleman City truckstop.

BARTON V.O.

And that wasn't Burt Reynolds, that was Jerry Reed! Burt Reynolds was driving a little fourwheeler. Hell, that driver up there wouldn't even come back at you if he didn't hear a little Diesel on his twoway.

(beat)

Besides, it's busted.

Page 22.

KAREN O.S.

Oh.

BARTON O.S.

You do a lot of paperwork?

KAREN

All I do is paperwork. This is a treat, riding around in a big truck.

BARTON

Yeah, not like peddling bonds. Whose bonds are they, anyway?

KAREN

Some nuclear power plant. Up in Washington state. And now this one down here in California. On the coast.

BARTON

You sell bonds for nuke plants? Noooh! Really? Which one?

Devil's Valley? Way over there in San Luis? They been trying to build that pieceashit for years.

KAREN

That's the one.

Barton's truck has gone the half mile or so to the MBI truckstop in Kettleman City. Another left turn signal and deceleration, and the beginnings of a left turn (steering wheel spins).

BARTON O.S.

Well, look at that!

Ron's truck is parked squarely in the driveway.

KAREN O.S.

Maybe he ran out of gas.

BARTON O.S.

Fuel. "Gas" makes you sound like an amateur.

Barton's truck swings first right, then left, turning in at a second driveway to the same truckstop, an eighth mile further down the road.

KAREN

"Fuel."

CUT TO:

EXT. KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP -- DAY 1 #

POV FUEL ISLAND. Barton's truck pulls up to a fuel island behind a line of trucks. DIESEL RUMBLE gets louder as truck approaches. Parking brake is set (HISS OF AIR).

Page 23.

BARTON O.S.

Maybe he took too many pocket rockets. Can't remember where he was supposed to park it. Maybe he broke down.

KAREN O.S.

Do you always have to wait in line?

BARTON O.S.

Fuel shortage. The ladies room is in that little yellow building there where it says cashier.

KAREN O.S.

How come you wear that big wallet with a chain on it? Is that real macho or something?

BARTON O.S.

I'm not macho.

(beat)

I'm a trucker.

CUT TO:

EXT. TRUCKSTOP FUEL ISLAND -- DAY 1 #

FRONT OF BARTON'S TRUCK in line at fuel island. NOISE OF ENGINE is different from out here, and slightly louder. Driver's door and passenger door swing open. Windows are down.

Barton lets himself down to the ground with an easy swing. Karen climbs down carefully but with good form. Karen's casual clothing would more likely be found in New York's Central Park than in California's Central Valley. Barton goes from driver's side to passenger side to get to the pump. Karen does the opposite to get to the yellow building (o.s.). As they cross paths, framed by the truck grille, Karen playfully tilts up Barton's hat. He smiles.

CUT TO:

EXT. KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP-- DAY 1 #

BARTON'S POV, FRONT OF CONVENTIONAL TRACTOR AND LOAD OF DRUMS, in the driveway. Driver's door is open halfway, head and shoulders of RON, the driver, leaning out, craning his neck toward rear of truck.

BARTON AMBLES TOWARDS RON'S RIG. In the background, linedrivers are switching tractors and trailers -- disconnecting lines, lowering landing legs, etc. -- at this halfway point on the L.A.-S.F. run. Barton stops to inspect a computerized rig. Barton approaches Ron's truck and taps on the half-opened door of the truck.

Window is up (air conditioning). Ron swings the door wide open and waves slightly. The door of Ron's truck is lettered "CAHILL

Page 24.

Bozeman, Montana ICC 94606". "Ron" is lettered in italics in smaller print just under the window. On the side of the sleeper cab, "Ronald and Elvira Grooms Owner/Operator" is lettered in a slightly less professional script.

BARTON

(shouting)

Howdy!

RON

(shouting)

How do!

BARTON

Got trouble?

RON

I reckon. I got her in gear, and nothin', flat nothin'.

Barton gets closer, looks at undercarriage. CU of driveshaft turning.

BARTON O.S.

You got dual drive?

RON O.S.

Yep.

BARTON O.S.

Try it.

HEAVY CLICK-THUD. CU of a second driveshaft, also turning, but the truck doesn't move an inch.

RON O.S.

(in fluent Okie)

No improvement there, ah reckon.

BARTON O.S.

Nope. No improvement.

(to himself, in Okie)

Ahhh reckon.

(to Ron)

Wait a minute, I gotta go move my truck. I'll get a wrench.

RON

Don't worry, partner, I ain't a-goin' nowheres too darn fast.

CUT TO:

INT. CASHIER'S STATION--DAY 1 #

NOISY AIR CONDITIONER. Closed circuit TV of pumps; TV with broadcast of afternoon news. Counter top with digital displays and displays of trucker merchandise -- chrome lug nuts, etc. CASHIER is a middleaged woman, wearing a sweater.

Page 25.

karen

Where's the ladies' room?

The four o'clock news on the broadcast TV is getting into the latest debacle at the nearby nuclear power plant under construction. TV monitor shows containment structure. Karen has her back to the screen.

NEWSCASTER ON CHANNEL 3

(barely understandable)

-- minor earthquake...

cashier

Right over there.

(handing her a towel)

Shower?

NEWSCASTER ON CHANNEL 3

(barely understandable)

-- reports of injuries...non nuclear event...

Karen turns to TV, notices the nuke plant, but they are into another story.

karen

May I?

Karen changes the channels to catch the news on another station. Several truckers drift in. Monitor is displaying intros to the Five O'clock Eyewitness News on Channel 6. TV ANCHORWOMAN is flanked by black male ANCHORMAN.

ANCHORWOMAN

Good evening, I'm Joan Edwards.

ANCHORMAN

And I'm Gene Morley...

ZOOM IN on TV Monitor.

ANCHORWOMAN

And these are the stories making news tonight.

Monitor displays containment structure of nuclear reactor.

Monitor ZOOMS IN on containment structure.

Page 26.

ANCHORWOMAN O.S.,O.S.

This just in: more trouble has been reported today at Devil's Valley, Coastal Light and Power's troubled nuclear construction project. As we reported yesterday, this nuclear power plant, which Coastal says is ninety-seven percent complete, is running four hundred percent over budget and has been cited for numerous safety violations and engineering errors.

DISSOLVE TO:

FLASHBACK: KAREN

EXT. NUCLEAR POWER PLANT CONSTRUCTION SITE -- DAY 0 #

Karen and a dozen or so other very well-dressed Securities Dealers in hardhats are standing about, listening attentively to a Public Relations Man from Coastal L&P. The PR Man is inaudible. PR Man is flanked by beaming VICE-PRESIDENT OF ELECTRICAL ENGINEERING AND CONSTRUCTION. Standing behind the PR Man and the V.P. are several other members of the Utility Team including BREEN. Securities Dealers take notes, some on laptop word processors.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. MEETING ROOM -- DAY 0 #

The same well-dressed Securities Dealers are in a meeting at a hotel nearest the nuclear construction site. Steiner turns in his chair to get an update on risk analysis from Karen, who is seated directly behind him. His PROTEGE is seated on his right.

STEINER

Mr. Breen, I am sure I speak for all of the gentlemen, and ladies, here, that we would all like to go back to our respective offices of the Capital Markets Utility Group and push the sale of these debentures. We have talked to prospective investors. We think this is marketable. I am sure that we would be able to raise more than enough cash to complete this project, the Devil's Valley Nuclear Power Center, Unit 1 and Unit 2.

CU of Breen, who is relieved and pleased.

Page 27.

BRINKMANN

But Mr Breen, we know why you are coming to Wall Street. You can't sell your own paper; Washington won't pull a Chrysler for you, and now the banks turned you down. We know why we're here.

(beat)

And we all want to make a little money. I think we're agreed on that.

(beat)

But now I would like to tell you my own reservations about the finances of your project here.

Breen squirms. Dealer picks out Coastal's Annual Report, the dull-looking one with the containment vessel on its cover.

BRINKMANN (cont.)

(addressing his remarks to the Vice President for Electrical Engineering and Construction)

Let's get to this balance sheet. I see no reserve setaside for further delays in construction. Now this project is eight years behind schedule. Is it or isn't it? Answer me! And approximately four billion dollars over budget? A cost, I might add, that was less than half a billion dollars to begin with. So your estimate was off; by an estimated nine hundred percent. Now you claim this plant is ninety seven percent complete. Not ninety-six percent. Not ninety-nine percent. Ninety... seven... percent exactly.

(beat)

I see no reserve setaside for costs of dismantling this plant when it is decommissioned thirty years form now. My firm is in line for some twenty nine year debentures maturing in oh one {2001}. I think you can see our problem.

(beat)

We intend to be in business, thirty years down the road. And not just ninety...seven...percent in business.

DISSOLVE TO:

FLASH"BACK" WITHIN A FLASHBACK -- Somewhere in the Twilight Zone

EXT. CROWDED FREEWAY -- DAY #

Simultaneous VOICEOVER from Brinkmann.

Page 28.

A flatbed tractor-trailer hauling a nuclear transport cask loaded with "spent" nuclear fuel rods on I-5 in L.A. (the Golden State Freeway) overtakes several other trucks in the #1 lane, but gets stuck behind a Winnebago in the #2 lane. The rearview of the motor home is all truck. A small car cuts in front of the Winnebago, which hits its brakes (tail lights FLASH).

CORNER OF BUMPER OF TRUCK HITS WINNEBAGO. Bumper of truck bends back into tire on truck steering axle; truck tire RUBS, SMOKES, BLOWS OUT.

TWENTY-TWO INCH STEERING WHEEL spins violently.

POV CAB OF NUCLEAR TANKER. The truck swerves slightly and overturns, skidding along in an arc on its side until it collides with a concrete bridge abutment, and bursts like a watermelon.

The small car continues blithely on, unaware that it just caused the world's worst traffic accident.

COMMUTER on L.A. Freeway, as traffic piles up and comes to a halt across all six lanes.

Voiceover VOICEOVER after Cheese says "...transport of spent fuel..."

COMMUTER

(headphones, jogging outfit, in sportscar, top down)

Shit!

Commuter looks at his watch.

COMMUTER IN JOGGING OUTFIT JOGGING LIKE HELL. He smacks into an open car door, crushing a little old lady. A child is in the car. It's a bloody mess, but he keeps running. Little old lady is lying in a pool of very hot water, her face transformed into a parboiled skull. Child cries in horror and pain.

Truck placard: "Radioactive".

The evacuation scene following the nuclear truck crash is undescribable. People will kill to get out of there. And they will have to evacuate most of L.A. -- the stuff is so hot you can't get near enough to it to scrape it up.

Commuter, at great risk to himself, runs back to the wailing child, scoops him up, and runs even faster from the scene of the accident.

EXT. A VIEW FROM THE CHANNEL 6 TRAFFIC HELICOPTER -- DAY #

Above the intersection of Interstate 5 and Interstate 10 and the Pomona Freeway near Boyle Heights, the nuclear truck wreck crash site in Karen's flashback. Truck is on its side.

Page 29.

The cask on the trailer has hit the corner of the bridge abutment like an egg hits a mixing bowl. No other vehicles are involved in the collision. The freeway is stopping in every direction at once. A plume of condensing steam rises from the truck like a colorless mushroom cloud. CHOPPER CHATTER.

HELICOPTER NEWSPERSON V.O.

This is the Channel 6 Eye in the Sky at the L.A. Five and Ten where an overturned rig is blocking traffic on I-5 northbound. All six lanes are shut down. And southbound. On I-10 the eastbound, and westbound all six lanes. Folks it looks like... well it looks to me like the Pomona is blocked westbound. And eastbound. It looks to me... It appears to me that...I think it's gridlock. Nothing is moving. We're looking for the CHP to appear, but... Motorists are leaving their cars...This is gridlock. Folks, I've never seen anything like...Motorists are abandoning...Motorists are running from their cars.

STATIC on the radio transmission due to all the radiation interference.

HELICOPTER NEWSPERSON V.O.

Coming in here for a closer look now. Here's the overturned rig. There's a leak from the trailer, it's...Very close to the scene of the accident, now I think...It says...Oh my God!

CU of "Radioactive" placard.

AT THE NUCLEAR TRUCK CRASH, the passenger of the truck is CRITICALLY INJURED. She wakes up in a trauma room filling up with doctors, cops, et al in full uniform, including some heavy-looking FEDERAL NUCLEAR COPS in black.

CRYING and SCREAMING hospital noises. She knows that her partner, the driver of the rig (NUCLEAR TRUCKER), is dead, but he's too contaminated to look at. "I begged him not to take that load," she remembers, now that it's too late. The doctors won't work on her because she is too radioactive. Doctors walk in, glance up at heart monitor; cops don't.

"My God," she says, her skin an eerie white color, "this is a nightmare I won't wake up from."

FLASH"BACK" within a FLASH"BACK" within a FLASHBACK --

Page 30.

Nuclear Trucker comes back from his mashed-up bloody accidental self as a typical owner-operator cowboy trucker, jerking a thumb toward his flatbed with a cask on it.

NUCLEAR TRUCKER

Just freight.

Karen climbing in the cab and buckling up. Nuclear Trucker tossing aside seat belt.

HEADSHOT of Nuclear Trucker - a grinning skull, driving a rig.

NUCLEAR TRUCKER

Never touch the stuff.

END FLASH"BACK" within a FLASH"BACK" within a FLASHBACK

BRINKMANN (cont.) V.O.

I see no reserve setaside for costs of storage of spent fuel; fuel that I have heard is hot for -- how long is it? -- two hundred thousand years? three hundred thousand years?

(giggling, having read this stuff for the first time)

You're going to babysit this stuff -- this "spent" fuel -- for hundreds of thousands of years? And Christ just died, what, two thousand years ago? I see no setaside for transport of spent fuel;

(truck hits bridge)

no setaside for evacuation in a nuclear event; for cleanup of a nuclear event; no setaside for any calamities; no setaside for any risks at all. Need I go on? God forbid that any of these things should actually happen. But Price-Anderson is, as you must be aware, no-fault. For God's sake, what if you have an accident? Perhaps some provision should be made? And reflected on the balance sheet? And your projections on profit from pumping water uphill, two hundred miles east of here?

(beat)

Do you stand by those projections, Mr. Breen? Perhaps this briefing should be recommenced at Hellums Creek, where twenty five percent of this cash is going to be spent. To pump water uphill. Just what will you do with your pumps, Mr. Breen, if this plant is not licensed by the NRC? Irrigate the forest?

END FLASH"BACK" WITHIN A FLASHBACK.

Page 31.

BARTON V.O.

You sell bonds for nuke plants? Noooh! Really?

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. MEETING ROOM -- DAY 0 #

BRINKMANN (cont.)

And if you cannot get these projected two hundred percent rate increases. Two hundred percent rate increases? What in hell makes you think that Washington will go along with that?

(looking about the room)

Those people have to get elected, you know.

General LAUGHTER.

BRINKMANN (cont.)

(referring to Karen's paper)

I've figured up the cost of all of your mistakes so far, Mr. Breen. It comes to just over three dollars per share. On what is now a nine dollar stock, at the close of trading yesterday. On what used to be -- need I remind you -- a forty one dollar stock. And you want to sell bonds?

STEINER

(getting down to business, looking directly at Breen, who is resigned to his fate)

In short, Breen, you need help. But -- it's marketable. Now our plan calls for defeasance financing. The ten-year, mark-denominated bonds pay seven and a quarter percent. When you invest in the West German government securities paying eight point four percent, we put them in a blind trust. Coastal's listed payments, then, to Coastal Utility Leasing and Credit...

END FLASHBACK.

CUT TO:

INT. Cashier's station -- DAY 1 #

The Five O'clock Eyewitness News continues. Monitor still displays containment structure.

Page 32.

ANCHORWOMAN O.S.,O.S.

Early this morning, workmen standing atop a wooden beam on a cement form apparently lost their balance and fell inside this structure. No reports yet on injuries.

(beat)

Today's problems apparently started when a small tremor registering four point four on the Richter scale struck twenty two miles west of the construction site. According to Eyewitness News sources, the quake, centered around a small island in the Pacific, loosened the supports holding up the workers' platform and scaffolding.

Monitor displays newsroom and Anchorwoman.

ANCHORWOMAN (cont.)

(beat)

Coastal has discounted the earthquake as a cause of the incident, and says they are pursuing their own investigation of worker safety, job conditions, and "worker attitudes".

CU of TV monitor. Back to Anchorwoman.

ANCHORWOMAN (cont.)

In a related story, management of Coastal Light and Power announced today that it was, quote, "a sure thing" that funds would be available to complete the plant. In making the announcement

(P-in-P of Coastal flack)

a Coastal spokesman quoted Coastal executive Wilford Breen, Vice President of Electrical Engineering and Construction, as saying that "New financing has been obtained on terms that were extremely favorable to Coastal" and that"Wall Street knew a good deal when we offered it to them."

Anchorwoman picks up a sheet of paper that has just been fed to her. There is a tiny bit of dead air, then VOICEOVER. TV Monitor displays blurry bootleg stills taken inside the construction site.

A PERSON is lying on a stretcher, bent in an unusual fashion denoting massive skeletal damage. A bloody towel covers a sucking chest wound. Various SAFETY AND SECURITY PERSONNEL stand about. A sheet is drawn up to the person's chest.

A PARAMEDIC is administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to the Person on the stretcher.

Page 33.

CU of mouth-to-mouth: A death rattle, GASPING and GARGLING in reverse.

ANCHORWOMAN (cont.) V.O.

This just in. It is believed that at least six workers were injured, one critically....And that the concrete was only eighteen hours old.... A source for Eyewitness News has obtained this on-the-scene film report just minutes ago.

As the stretcher is lifted to go punch out for the last time, the body convulses and contorts even more horribly. The BEARERS don't miss a step, and hustle the body O.S.

DISSOLVE TO:

FLASHBACK: KAREN

Back at the construction site the PR Man is seen but not heard mouthing his various explanations, as a Cadillac ambulance with SIREN DECRESCENDO swallows up the screen in a low angle shot of the ass end of the Cadillac. Extreme low angle of medics approaching the stretcher on the ground.

END FLASHBACK.

INT. cashier's station -- DAY 1 #

KAREN

Oh, that poor man!

Karen reaches for the TV set and switches off the ignition. A Trucker objects.

TRUCKER

Pardon me, ma'am, but "Movin On" is about to start and...

cashier

You want a shower or don'cha?

karen

Thanx.

CUT TO:

EXT. TRUCKSTOP FUEL ISLAND -- DAY 1 #

Barton moves his rig to the forward pump. There is a telephone on the pole next to the pump. Official looking sign says "Due to the currant (sic) fuel shortage, Limit 100 gals per Customer. Mgmt." Barton quickly unscrews cap of tank with one hand and picks up the phone with the other. He is sweating.

CASHIER

(raspy voice over telephone)

Company...

Page 34.

BARTON

Mongoose Freightlines.

CASHIER

Truck number...

BARTON

Eighty seventy-five.

CASHIER

Cash or credit...

BARTON

Cash.

CASHIER

Pump number seven.

Barton hangs up the phone and pumps the fuel. He sets the quick-release on the nozzle.

He then opens the passenger side door, picks up a large crescent wrench, spends a few seconds examining Karen's paperwork, borrows a financial newspaper, and closes the passenger door.

Barton strides toward Ron's rig. Linedrivers are still switching around tractors and trailers.

CUT TO:

EXT. KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP -- DAY 1 #

BARTON

Is it your truck?

RON

Me and the Bank.

Barton crawls under Ron's tractor, using Karen's financial newspaper for a floormat. Barton crawls around a while and gets settled underneath the rear axles.

BARTON

What's in the drums?

RON

Just freight.

(pause)

Chemicals.

Barton sets crescent wrench on the bung (pipe plug) of differential.

BARTON

What kind of chemicals?

Barton "leans on" wrench, breaks bung loose. GRUNT,SQUEAK,CLANK.

Page 35.

RON

Soap, I reckon. Least that's what one driver told me. He'd been to school, and I guess he knew. All's it ever says on'em is "cleanin' compounds".

BARTON

I wonder what the fuck it is with these axles.

RON

I know what 'tis. It's expensive.

Barton unthreads bung, but no oil comes out. Crescent wrench CLANKS rhythmically.

BARTON

Yeah. Last time I had one of these motherfuckers go out on me it cost seventeen hundred dollars rebuilt just for the parts.

(pause; reminiscing)

Man, I didn't get the last mile out of that sonuvabitch. I got the last inch. Where's the load supposed to go?

Barton pokes a finger in the hole. The differential is so hot that it nearly burns his finger; an "ouch".

Barton stares at his finger, covered with a tar-like substance.

RON

Kettleman City. Just about made'er, too.

Barton crawls back out from under rig.

BARTON

(still on the ground)

You mean that load goes to the dump just over the hill there?

RON

That's a big ten four, partner.

Barton, kneeling, displays his tarry digit to Ron.

RON (cont.)

(surprised)

What the hell's that you got there, asphalt?

Page 36.

BARTON

(standing up and chuckling)

No, I don't hardly think its asphalt. I got to go check my pump.

CUT TO:

EXT. TRUCKSTOP FUEL ISLAND -- DAY 1 #

Barton inspects pump number seven while drycleaning his hands with hand cleaner, and wiping them with an old tee shirt, sweating profusely. Pump reads fifty dollars. He grimaces.

CUT TO:

EXT. KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP -- DAY 1 #

Back at Ron's rig.

BARTON

(seriously, pointing to undercarriage)

Have these rear ends been worked on lately?

RON

Not exactly worked on. The front one was leakin' some, and vibratin' some, but the dispatcher he said just to top it off and bring'er in.

BARTON

(glancing at lettering on driver's side door)

All the way to Montana?

RON

Naw, this company I'm pullin' fer's got a yard in Stockton. Just bring'er in to Stocktontown. This here load goes to Kettleman City, and then I was supposed to drop the trailer and bobtail up to Stockton.

Barton signals to kill the engine (finger across throat). Ron hesitates, stares at gauges, complies. Relative QUIET.

BARTON

So did you get these rear ends worked on in L.A. or not?

RON

Little shop down in Cudahy topped it off for me.

BARTON

Freightliner did that?

Page 37.

RON

Naw, just some cumshaw garage outfit.

You a mechanic?

BARTON

No, just a driver.

(displaying his blackened finger again)

Hey, they filled it with mineral. Mineral and multiweight don't mix. This thing is dead.

(beat)

That differential's hotter'n hell. Another ten miles the trailer deck coulda caught on fire.

RON

You mean she's busted?

BARTON

Yeah. She's busted. Better call a tow truck.

RON

Yeah. Better put'er on the hook, I reckon.

Ron considers this situation a moment.

MEDIUM SHOT OF TRACTOR and trailer deck with a neat rack of ropes, straps, and rolled up tarpaulins, a few dark blue drums and "Flammable" placards on the front and side of the load.

RON (cont.)

You got you a chain on that rig?

BARTON

Yeah. Why? You wanna drag this thing outa the driveway?

RON

Wouldn't hurt.

BARTON

Is it heavy?

RON

She's eighty thousand.

BARTON

Full load. Yeah, what the hell. I gotta go pay for the fuel. Be right back.

Barton hands Ron the tarry differential bung. Ron fingers it cleanly with distaste.

Page 38.

RON

Yep. Every fifth trip, yer pullin' fer Exxon.

(beat)

Mebbe I got a chain in the jockeybox.

After Barton walks away, Ron climbs onto the dromedary deck behind his cab, removes a chain and tosses it onto the deck of his semitrailer.

CUT TO:

INT. CASHIER'S STATION--DAY 1 #

NOISY AIR CONDITIONER. Cashier accepts Barton's hundred dollar bill and keystrokes out a receipt.

CASHIER

Thanks much and drive safe.

BARTON

(sweat frozen by air conditioning)

Yeah. Thanks.

Telephone Intercom to fuel islands starts SQUAWKING; mostly DIESEL RUMBLE. Cashier peers through window behind her.

CASHIER

(loudly)

Go ahead, Frank. Yer on six.

BARTON

Have you seen a woman, young woman, my height, nice clothes, came in here...

CASHIER

She went in the ladies room. Just a minute ago.

BARTON

Yeah. Thanks.

CUT TO:

EXT. TRUCKSTOP FUEL ISLAND -- DAY 1 #

Barton puts away the crescent wrench in the passenger side of the cab, and straightens out the grease-stained newspaper. Intense DIESEL NOISE. FRANK'S DRIVER, young and gaunt, is fuelling one of Frank's rigs. Barton climbs over the deck behind his cab, checks the air lines, etc.

FRANK'S DRIVER

Hey Driver!

Barton climbs back down, looks expectantly at Frank's Driver.

Page 39.

FRANK'S DRIVER (cont.)

(very friendly)

How'se life treatin' ya?

BARTON

(noncommittally)

O.K.

FRANK'S DRIVER

Hey, pardner, I'm a little low on cash money and there ain't no place around here a man can cash a check. Supposin' I was to put twenny five gallons in your tank there and you give me twenny dollars fer it?

Barton just stares noncommittally.

FRANK'S DRIVER (cont.)

Or if you want, I can get you a little somethin' to keep you awake.

Frank's Driver displays heartshaped pills half out of his pocket.

BARTON

No that's okay thanks anyway.

Barton turns away abruptly. He glances back at Frank's Driver's truck, then walks to a very-nearby pay phone.

CUT TO:

EXT. TRUCKSTOP PAY PHONE -- DAY 1 #

Barton is in the phonebooth. Telephone RINGS in FRANK'S office.

FRANK O.S.

Frank's Truckin'.

OPERATOR O.S

Collect call from a driver.

FRANK O.S.

Bring'em on!

BARTON

(into telephone)

'Afternoon. Do you have a late model Kenworth Aerodyne, tan three axle?

FRANK O.S.

Mebbe. Who's this?

BARTON

(into telephone)

Tall skinny driver, needs a shave, kinda strung out?

FRANK O.S.

Whos'is?

Page 40.

BARTON

(into telephone)

This is Barton Mullridge. I'm the owner of Mongoose Freight Lines. Statewide service, general commodities. Your driver just tried to put twenty-five gallons of your fuel in my truck for twenty bucks cash.

FRANK O.S.

Is that right?

BARTON

(into telephone)

Back in the neck of the woods where I come from, we call that embezzlement.

(beat)

And he's high as a kite on hearts.

FRANK O.S.

Is that right? Well, I appreciate the information. We just call it stealin', see?

BARTON

(into telephone)

No problem. Ten Four.

FRANK O.S.

I'll get right on it.

BARTON

(into telephone)

Ten Four.

CUT TO:

EXT. KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP -- DAY 1 #

Barton climbs back in his cab. Barton circles wide behind Ron's truck, pulls ahead of it, and backs up to it.

DIESEL NOISE. Ron has slung a chain around an eyehook on his bumper. Ron waves Barton back into position with one arm, the other arm loose holding the chain. Ron clenches a fist; AIR BRAKES HISS, and Ron ducks under Barton's trailer. Ron slings the chain around the rear axle of Barton's trailer, hooks it to itself, and climbs back in his cab.

BARTON GINGERLY TAKES UP THE SLACK IN THE CHAIN.

Attractive female MERCEDES DRIVER is out of her car, snapping a series of shots with a 35mm camera.

Page 50.

THROUGH-THE-LENS SHOT of Ron hooking the chain around the rearmost axle of Barton's trailer.

MERCEDES DRIVER takes some rapidfire shots of one truck pulling the other truck. She finishes the roll, labels it "I-5" and in smaller scrawl "Truckers", and tosses the roll into her trunk.

THE CHAIN, as rust and dirt snap off the links and it goes extremely straight, getting just slightly brighter in the sun as the second truck begins to roll. DIESEL NOISE of Barton's engine pulling eighty tons instead of forty.

130 foot long combination of vehicles moves snakelike around the lot and into a "parking space". Linedrivers are still switching around tractors and trailers.

Barton backs up, chain is released, Barton pulls ahead and backs smoothly into the adjacent parking space on the right in one pass. Ron is standing by his passenger door. HOWARD, Ron's co-driver, steps out as Barton swings down from his truck. Howard is shorter and older than Ron and higher mileage.

RON

Much obliged, driver. What's yer name? Mine's Ron. This here is Howard. He's my co-driver. Let me buy you and yer lady friend a cup of coffee.

Barton kills his engine. Howard nods. RUMBLE is now much reduced to diesel REEFER UNITS and TRUCK ENGINES RUNNING IN BACKGROUND 0.S.

BARTON

(hesitates, contemplating an ice-cold coffeeshop)

Sure. Name's Barton. My lady friend is in the ladies room.

Barton scribbles "In Coffeeshop" in the dust on the windshield of his truck, stares at it, hesitates; Ron hands him a pad of paper in a leather case and pen. Barton writes "In Coffeeshop" and puts it under the windshield wiper.

A particularly beat-up fenderflapper of an old truck creaks by, pulling a beat-up van.

RON

There's a fella appears to be runnin' on fumes.

CUT TO:

INT. TRUCKSTOP COFFEESHOP -- DAY 1 #

Carl's Jr.-type. Charge-a-call pay telephones are hung on the walls just above the tables. Female WAITRESSES wear absurd uniforms. Prominent "Professional Drivers Only" sign and seating section, where several COMPANY DRIVERS (males) are seated

Page 42.

around one table, some with hamburgers, all with coffee. Most have company shirts. Ron, Howard, and Barton are also at a booth in the professional drivers section with three coffee cups, one full, two two thirds empty. Howard is drinking milk. Ron's logbook sticks out from his leather permit folder lying on the table. His shipping papers (bill of lading, manifest, handtag, etc.) are spread out on the table, facing Barton. Other booths with ones, twos, and threes are in Western dress, including the women.

A FAMILY consisting of MOM, POP, and two CHILDREN is at another table, not in the professional drivers section. The little kids are fascinated by the truckdrivers.

CHILD #1

(male, about four years old)

Where are the cowboys' guns, Mommy?

MOM

Eat your salad, honey.

CHILD #2

(female, about six years old)

Cowboys only drive horses, silly!

Child #1 points an imaginary pistol across the table at his sister. Mom pushes his hand down.

Barton is talking into the telephone, while Ron very professionally fills out his log book. Howard stares vacantly.

BARTON

(into telephone)

...so what you're telling me is you don't really need the stuff tomorrow morning after all.

COMPANY DRIVER #1

(loudly, from the company drivers' table)

-- so now, instead'a drivin' to Shakey and layin' over, like we use ta, we drop a set of trailers here and northbound picks'em up.

COMPANY DRIVER #2

(loudly)

I seen that. So you guys just go halfway and turn back.

COMPANY DRIVER #1

(loudly)

Crazy, ain't it?

Page 43.

BARTON

(into telephone, annoyed that he is on the wrong end of a negotiation)

-- no, it's fine, yeah, I'll bring it in the day after.

(beat)

-- yeah, hurry up and wait. I'll see you then. No, no problem. G'bye.

(hanging up the telephone)

Who the hell does he think he is? What am I just a goddamned delivery boy?

A wet-haired Karen enters the restaurant and looks about for Barton. Mercedes Driver is alone at a table, munching on a light lunch from the salad bar, reading a copy of Millimeter.

COMPANY DRIVER #3

(loudly)

Ain't it though. United would never do a crazy thing like that. That's fuckin' crazy.

COMPANY DRIVER #2

(loudly)

I hear they're all gonna go that route pretty soon.

(route rhymes with bout)

Karen approaches. All the drivers except those with their backs to the aisle look up, stare, etc. She walks straight to Barton's side of the table.

COMPANY DRIVER #4

(loudly, with his back to the aisle)

Fuckin' union ain't worth a fuck when ya need the sonuvabitches.

Karen glances at Company Drivers. Company Drivers continue their conversation O.S.

Barton hangs up the telephone.

KAREN

(enthusiastic)

That was so nice. The women's room had a shower with clean towels and it didn't cost a thing.

RON

At a dollar and change a gallon, they don't need any more money. Here's yer coffee. Name's Ron.

KAREN

Thanx. Nice to meet you. Karen.

BARTON

Ron here broke down. I dragged him in with a chain.

Page 44.

KAREN

Nice of you.

RON

Where're you'all headed?

KAREN

Oakland. Right?

BARTON

Oakland. Gotta drop off that container.

RON

Up to the Gay Bay, eh? That load you were pullin' seemed kinda heavy. That heavy stuff inside is just hitchhikin'?

BARTON

Just freight.

(pause)

Yeah, I know, U.S. Customs would shit a brick about the Jap container not paying duty. And haulin' domestic freight. Freight's on the inside, see? Inside information. Well, fuck U.S. Customs. Fuck'em all.

RON

(with a glance at Karen)

And the horse they rode in on. Yeah, we pull those boxes sometimes -- empty -- when the despatcher can't come up with nothin' better.

BARTON

(to Karen)

By the way, the clay guy just told me that he doesn't want the stuff tomorrow after all. Now it's the day after.

KAREN