SERGEANT
March them back to camp and let the Captain have a look.
(to Tom)
Gather up whatever food you’ve got and get into your snow gear.
TOM
We don’t have any.
SERGEANT
(incredulous)
In that case, you two are going to have a long, cold walk.
OFF Tom’s dismay, we
CUT TO
EXT.—BASE CAMP—THAT AFTERNOON—ESTABLISHING
A small military camp has been dug in against the side of a mountain. There are tents, crudely built hutches, a firepit in the center of camp. Around the perimeter, like snowbreaks, are an ancient yellow SCHOOL BUS, a JEEP, and an ARMORED PERSONNEL CARRIER, all in sorry condition. More striking—and in better repair—are two larger and more futuristic vehicles: a huge HOVER TANK (designed to ride on a cushion of compressed air, it has no treads), and an even larger transport FLOATER, an eighteen-wheeler without the wheels.
ANGLE ON TOM AND CAT
The soldiers stare, curious, as the captives are marched in. Counting the squad that captured Cat and Tom, there are twenty of them. We glimpse a few women and three times as many men.
Their “uniforms” are worn, much patched, and not very uniform. It looks as though they came from two or three different armies. A few have heavy, hooded parkas; one man wears a moth-eaten fur coat; the others bundle up under layers of clothing.
ANGLE ON THE JEEP
as Tom and Cat are marched past. A MACHINE GUN is mounted on the jeep. It’s half in pieces now. WALSH, a private with a heavy dark beard wearing a fur-trimmed parka, is cleaning and repairing it. When he sees Cat, he stops, and jumps off the jeep to inspect her.
WALSH
Well, look at this. Maybe those snow patrols aren’t useless after all.
He blocks Cat’s path, touches her under the chin to raise her face. She stares at him impassively.
WALSH
You have a name, pretty thing?
SERGEANT
Knock it off, Walsh. And get back to work. You were supposed to have that gun cleaned and serviced an hour ago.
WALSH
I’d like to clean and service her.
TOM
I wouldn’t touch her if I were you. She bites.
SERGEANT
Listen to the man. I want that gun back in one piece by mess.
Walsh turns on the sergeant, defiant.
WALSH
Why? You think it matters? What the hell we going to shoot? Snowmen?
SERGEANT
I gave you an order.
Other soldiers gather to watch the confrontation. Among the spectators is a woman, WHITMORE, very PREGNANT. A minority make it clear they agree with Walsh.
WALSH
Stuff your orders.
CRONY
You tell her, Walsh.
WALSH
All this patrolling and drilling and cleaning our guns, what does it prove?
THE CAPTAIN (O.S.)
It proves we can survive, Walsh.
REVERSE ANGLE—ON THE HUTCH
A tall, grim, powerful man has emerged from the command hutch. THE CAPTAIN wears a heavy parka with a hood that shadows his face.
THE CAPTAIN
The snow is the enemy. The cold is the enemy. And despair is the greatest enemy of all. Are you tired of living, Walsh?
CLOSE ON TOM
He is looking at the Captain hard, with a strange expression on his face, almost as if he recognizes him.
RESUME
Walsh is cowed and a little frightened by the Captain.
WALSH
No, sir.
THE CAPTAIN
Death is easy. Lie down in the snow, that’s all it takes. Life is harder. It requires courage, work, discipline. Do you want to live?
WALSH
Yes, sir.
THE CAPTAIN
Then get back to work.
Walsh SALUTES and gets back into the jeep. The Captain turns to his sergeant.
THE CAPTAIN
Sergeant, who are these people?
SERGEANT
We found them in a cave by the south ridge, Captain.
THE CAPTAIN
Bring them inside.
CUT TO
INT.—CAPTAIN’S HUTCH—CONTINUOUS
The furniture is crude and well-worn. A wood-burning stove warms the hutch to a comfortable temperature.
The sergeant and one of her men escort Tom and Cat into the hutch. The Captain pulls down his hood. We see his face for the first time. His hair is shoulder length, tangled, but the same iron-gray color. He sports a dark beard shot through with gray, but beneath it the face is the same. Tom recognizes him; so does Cat.
TOM
(stunned)
Trager.
CLOSE ON THE CAPTAIN
He frowns, off-balance for a second.
THE CAPTAIN
Where did you hear that name?
TOM
I…knew you.
THE CAPTAIN
Before the war?
(thoughtful)
No. You’re not old enough.
(beat)
Names are for peacetime. I’m the Captain.
(to the sergeant)
Were they armed?
SERGEANT
We found these in the cave.
She deposits Cat’s weapon and TWO spare magazines in front of the Captain, who inspects them carefully.
CAT
Mine! Give it!
The soldiers restrain her as she starts forward.
THE CAPTAIN
Curious. Is this what the enemy is carrying these days?
TOM
We’re not the enemy.
THE CAPTAIN
That remains to be seen.
TOM
Your sergeant said this was Wyoming.
That draws a long, curious stare from the Captain.
THE CAPTAIN
This is the Mountain Free State. Or what remains of it.
TOM
The Mountain…Captain, what’s happened?
Cat has figured it out; it’s obvious.
CAT
Warring.
THE CAPTAIN
Twenty-nine years of it.
TOM
(shocked)
Twenty-nine…
THE CAPTAIN
You heard me.
(beat, brusque)
My turn. I would like some answers. What’s your purpose here? Where did you come from?
TOM
Los Angeles.
THE CAPTAIN
Do I look like a fool to you? There is no Los Angeles.
(to sergeant)
Did you find their supplies?
SERGEANT
The only clothing they’ve got is what they’re wearing, and they had no food at all.
THE CAPTAIN
How about a vehicle?
CAT
Walked.
The Captain looks at Tom, who SHRUGS.
TOM
Ah…I hate to say it, but we did.
THE CAPTAIN
(rising)
You’re either a madman or a liar. We don’t have food for either. Sergeant, take this man and—
The Captain breaks off as a WOMAN SOLDIER bursts inside the hutch, breathless and scared.
WOMAN SOLDIER
Captain, it’s Barbara. She’s gone into labor. Something’s gone wrong.
TOM
Take me there.
(no one moves)
I’m a doctor. I can help…
The Captain studies Tom a moment, uncertain. We hear a SCREAM. It makes up his mind. He NODS. Tom rushes from the hutch with the woman soldier.
CUT TO
INT.—WOMEN’S HUTCH—LATER
Candles and a smoking torch provide the only light. The hutch houses the army’s five women. On one cot, Whitmore shudders and pants in the agony of labor.
The sergeant and the other women have gathered to help, but Tom i
s the only man in the hutch. He kneels between Whitmore’s legs. Cat watches from the door, curious as her namesake.
WHITMORE
It hurts…oh, please…it hurts…
TOM
Bear down. That’s it. Go on, scream if you have to.
She does. Tom ignores it, concentrating.
TOM
Biting her lip, face damp with sweat, Whitmore NODS.
TOM
Here we go.
CLOSE ON CAT
Wide-eyed, watching. Whitmore’s next scream is SHATTERING. Cat pales, whirls, and flees the hutch.
EXT.—WOMEN’S HUTCH—CONTINUOUS
In headlong flight, Cat runs right into the Captain, waiting with a few other men outside the hutch. The Captain catches her by her arms, holds her a moment.
THE CAPTAIN
What’s happening?
Cat shakes her head wildly; she’s the wrong one to ask. She wrenches free of the Captain, and runs.
DISSOLVE TO
EXT.—WOMEN’S HUTCH—LATER
The Captain and the other men are still waiting. It has grown quiet in the hutch. Finally the sergeant emerges.
SERGEANT
It’s a little girl.
The Captain nods. He shows no visible emotion.
THE CAPTAIN
And Whitmore?
SERGEANT
The doc says she’ll make it. She wants to see you, Captain.
The Captain enters the hutch.
INT.—WOMEN’S HUTCH—CONTINUOUS
The mother is cradling a tiny newborn to her breast. She looks exhausted and weak, but happy. Tom is drying his hands.
WHITMORE
Look at her, John. Isn’t she beautiful? Would you like to hold her?
The Captain looks uncomfortable. He doesn’t know what to say. Whitmore pulls the child closer.
WHITMORE
She’s going to be all right, isn’t she?
THE CAPTAIN
She’s going to be fine. We’ll be going south as soon as the weather breaks. It’s still warm down there south of Mexico. The oceans are full of fish, and there are green valleys where the food grows right out of the ground.
INTERCUT
with reaction shots from Tom, listening. The Captain gently touches the baby’s head as she nurses.
THE CAPTAIN
I promise you, Whitmore. She’s going to grow up under blue skies. She’s going to taste honey and ride a horse and play in the sun. I promise you.
CLOSE ON WHITMORE
There are tears in her eyes. Tears of joy, tears of sorrow? Maybe both. She bites her lip, and nods.
WHITMORE
I want to name her Eve. It will be a new world, won’t it? And she’s the first…
THE CAPTAIN
It’s a good name.
Whitmore SMILES.
RESUME
as the Captain gets up. He looks at Tom.
THE CAPTAIN
Doctor, if I could have a word with you outside.
Tom follows him out.
EXT.—WOMEN’S HUTCH—CONTINUOUS
Outside the hutch, the Captain turns to face Tom. The sergeant, standing nearby, listens to their exchange.
THE CAPTAIN
So you really are a doctor.
TOM
Not a liar or a madman?
Cat, hiding around the corner of the hutch, hears Tom’s voice and comes creeping back into view. She listens.
THE CAPTAIN
Maybe all three. It doesn’t matter.
(sees Cat, in hiding)
Come out of there.
Cat emerges, shyly.
TOM
Cat, are you all right? Why did you run away?
CAT
Too much hurting. Dying.
TOM
Childbirth doesn’t have to be fatal, Cat.
CAT
No dying?
TOM
No dying.
THE CAPTAIN
You had a lot to do with that, it seems. We need a doctor. And we always need women. You’re both drafted. Sergeant, explain the terms of enlistment to our new recruits.
The Captain walks off. The sergeant takes over.
SERGEANT
Three articles. First, you obey orders. Second, you serve as long as we want you. Third…the penalty for desertion is death.
OFF the look on Tom’s face, we
FADE OUT
END OF ACT IV
ACT V
EXT.—FLOATER—DAY
Inside are crates of canned food, stacks of wood and faded yellow newspaper, bundles of old clothing. The QUARTERMASTER, jowly and unshaven, tosses down a bundle of clothing from the tailgate.
QUARTERMASTER
Here you go. You put on six, eight shirts, hey, who needs a coat, right?
Cat pokes her finger through a hole, SNIFFS at the stain around the hole.
QUARTERMASTER
That’s good luck, you know. I mean, what’s the odds on an other bullet hitting that same spot, right?
Cat starts pulling on the shirts, layer on layer. A little blood does not bother her at all.
TOM
We need warm socks.
QUARTERMASTER
Try the five-and-dime.
The quartermaster hands down a couple of rifles.
QUARTERMASTER
This here is your rifle. Make sure you don’t lose it. If the enemy shows up, you can hit him with it.
Cat grabs her rifle eagerly, checking the action.
TOM
You mean there’s no ammunition?
The quartermaster LAUGHS like that’s the funniest thing he’s heard in years.
TOM
What good is a rifle without ammunition?
The sergeant gives him a wry, bemused smile.
SERGEANT
Good enough to capture you.
OFF Tom’s reaction, we
DISSOLVE TO
INT.—MESS TENT—EVENING
Tom and Cat, wearing their new “uniforms” and looking as ragtag as the rest of this army, accept tin plates of canned beans and mystery meat from the COOK, and carry them to empty places on the mess hall bench.
Cat picks up the meat with her fingers, tears at it with her teeth. She’s hungry.
CAT
(her mouth full)
Good. Hot. Eat, Toe Mas.
There’s a smear of GREASE around her lips as she grins at him over a ragged piece of meat. She wipes it away with the back of her sleeve. Tom holds up a FORK.
TOM
Remind me to teach you how to use a fork.
He picks up his knife, tries to cut his meat. It’s hard. Now it’s Cat’s turn to grin.
CAT
Use teeth. Better than forks.
Her smile fades as the quartermaster seats himself on the bench beside her. She tries to ignore him.
QUARTERMASTER
Your girlfriend’s hungry.
TOM
She’s not my girlfriend.
QUARTERMASTER
Your loss. Nice-looking girl like her, nobody to keep her snug at night.
(to Cat)
You come out and visit me tonight, I’ll keep you nice and warm. Maybe I can even find you a pair of socks.
He slides close to Cat.
TIGHT ON CAT’S LEG
Under the bench. The quartermaster puts his hand on her knee, slides it slowly up her thigh, his fingers groping.
ANGLE ON CAT
Her eyes flick sideways. That’s all the warning he gets. He has one hand on the table and the other under it.
QUARTERMASTER
I used to give roses to the girls. When there were roses. Hey, roses, socks, what’s the difference? They both smell.
He starts to LAUGH at his own joke. Cat picks up a FORK and drives it down brutally into
the quartermaster’s hand. The man SHRIEKS in sudden agony, and leaps up, clutching his bleeding hand.
QUARTERMASTER
My hand…
Cat grins at Tom, her eyes sparkling.
CAT
Knowing how to use forks. See.
QUARTERMASTER
You filthy little…
TOM
(rising)
Don’t touch her.
The sergeant puts a hand on Tom to cool him.
SERGEANT
At ease, Lake. Timms, get back to the floater.
QUARTERMASTER
I was just trying to be nice to her.
The other soldiers don’t have much sympathy.
WOMAN SOLDIER
Next time maybe she’ll stick it between your legs.
The quartermaster GLARES at them all, and EXITS the mess tent, angry. Tom sits back down.