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Published:
5/17/03

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Desert Spec

By H.G. Miller

EXT. DESERT - DAY

Sun beats down on open highway.

A SPORTS CAR tears ass in the distance.


INT. SPORTS CAR - SAME

DEREK BARROW drives. He is early-thirties, grizzled and
sweaty.

One hand holds the wheel. The other moves from a POLICE
SCANNER on the dash to the collar of his black shirt.


EXT. HIGHWAY - SAME

The TIRES scream along the pavement.

A METAL PIECE of some long-gone trailer GLINTS in the sun.

The two meet. Tire BLOWS. Car SKIDS to a stop.

Derek sits frozen at the wheel. Both hands locked at ten and
two.

Dust settles. A steady BUZZ emanates from the scanner.

                         DEREK (VO)
             We've all got instincts.
             Sometimes, things go wrong, and
             they kick in, just to keep us
             moving. Keep us breathing. I
             don't know how I got here. I'm
             not any good at hiding, so I ran.
             As long as I keep moving, I'll be
             all right.

The police scanner BEEPS to life, then FUZZES back into the
buzz.

                         DEREK (VO)
             I'm running out of time.


EXT. HIGHWAY - LATER

The TRUNK of the sports car OPENS.

A CROWBAR. Some ROPE. Assorted RAGS.

No SPARE TIRE.

Derek sighs. Lights up a cigarette. Kneels down to examine
his flat.

The tire is SHREDDED.

He walks out onto the highway. Finds the metal piece.
Examines it for a moment. Tosses it back onto the asphalt.
Walks back to the car.

                         DEREK (VO)
             I'm not a bad person. I just get
             sloppy sometimes... and bad
             things happen.



IN THE DISTANCE

A CAR appears over the curvature of the earth.

Derek moves quickly to his car. Reaches through the passenger
window. Pulls a GUN.

As it nears, it becomes clear this is an ECONOMY CAR.

Derek tucks the gun into his pants. Begins to wave the car
down.



ON THE HIGHWAY

Tires. Metal. Results may vary, but they don't here.

The economy car SKIDS past Derek's car and into the ditch
about twenty yards up the road.

Derek watches the dust settle.

The economy car DOOR opens.

ROBERT TAYLOR gets out. He is mid-twenties, clean-cut and
animated.

                         ROBERT
             Holy shit! Whoo!

Robert shakes out his hands and re-tucks his white shirt.

He walks toward Derek.

                         ROBERT
             Hey. What's wrong with this road?

                         DEREK
             There's a piece of scrap metal
             out there.

                         ROBERT
             Took you out too, huh?

Derek cautiously sizes up Robert.

                         DEREK
             Yeah.

                         ROBERT
             We should move it, before somebody
             else hits it.

                         DEREK
             Good idea.

Robert walks onto the road. Looks for the metal.

                         DEREK
             You have a spare?

                         ROBERT
             Just one of those donut things.
             Pretty worthless, if you ask me.
             Here it is.

Robert picks up the metal. Displays it proudly.

                         ROBERT
             It's the damnedest thing, huh?

He chucks it into the brush.

Derek's hand rests NEAR HIS GUN.

                         DEREK
             I don't have a spare?

Robert is peaking into the sports car.

                         ROBERT
             That's too bad. I'll give you a
             ride to whatever's close to here.

                         DEREK
             There isn't much.

                         ROBERT
             Guess we'll find out. Have you
             called anybody yet?

He points to the scanner.

                         DEREK
             It's not a CB. It's a police
             scanner.

                         ROBERT
             Oh. Hobby?

                         DEREK
             Yeah.

                         ROBERT
             Eh, makes no difference.

Robert pulls out a cell phone. Dials. Fumbles through his
wallet for his AAA Card.

                         ROBERT
                  (into cell)
             Hey, Triple-A? Yeah, this is
             Robert Taylor, member number 464-
             398-70. My car broke down... I'm
             somewhere on highway 56, maybe an
             hour East of Needles... There's
             actually two of us here that need
             tows... No, it's not an accident.
             We both got flats. Freaky, yeah,
             I know. Mine's a white Honda
             Civic. There's also a red Corvette.
             California plates.

Robert hangs up.

                         ROBERT
             They've got somebody on the way.
             I guess one truck can tow two
             cars. I'd put the donut on, but
             I'm just not in the mood to work
             today. You know what I mean?

                         DEREK
             You didn't have to call anybody.
             I could put the spare on.

                         ROBERT
             Nah. I'm paying for the damn
             card, might as well use it, right?

Robert smiles at Derek. Derek politely nods.

                         ROBERT
             Hell of a day.

The police scanner SQUAWKS to life.

                         SCANNER
             Attention, all Western Nevada
             units. We have an ID location on
             Derek Barrow. Last seen driving a
             red Corvette with California
             plates. Same car is currently
             stranded on State Highway 56,
             approximately sixty-miles East of
             Needles. Suspect is believed to
             be armed. A civilian is nearby.
             Proceed quickly and with caution.

Robert's smile has FADED.

He looks over at Derek.

Derek holds the gun.

                         DEREK
             I need your spare.

                         ROBERT
             It's just a donut.

                         DEREK
             I don't care.

                         ROBERT
             You're Derek Barrow?

                         DEREK
             Give me your keys.

                         ROBERT
             Oh, man...

                         DEREK
             I'm not gonna hurt you. Where are
             the keys?

                         ROBERT
             They're still in the car.

Derek grabs Robert by the shirt.

                         DEREK
             Come on.

The walk to Robert's car.

                         DEREK
             I didn't mean to kill anybody.

                         ROBERT
             You just accidentally shot five
             people?

                         DEREK
             It was a complicated situation.

                         ROBERT
             Do you still have all that money?

                         DEREK
             You want some?

                         ROBERT
             I-I just want to get through this.

                         DEREK
             Open the trunk.

Robert reaches into his car. Pops the trunk.

                         ROBERT
             I don't know if it'll fit your car.

                         DEREK
             I'm not putting on my car.

                         ROBERT
             You're taking my car?

Derek holds up the gun.

                         DEREK
             I can take more.

Robert unscrews the donut. Pulls it out. Pulls out the jack.

                         DEREK
             My jack is better. We'll use it.

                         ROBERT
             I guess I'm getting that myself?

                         DEREK
             I have to hold the gun.

                         ROBERT
             Fair enough.

They walk back to Derek's car. Pop the trunk.

Robert moves some of the rags to get to Derek's jack. His
eyes stop on the crowbar.

                         DEREK (VO)
             We've all got instincts.

Robert closes his eyes. Takes a breath. Grabs the crowbar.
Comes out SWINGING.

The crowbar LANDS against Derek's arm. He drops the gun.

                         DEREK
             OW!

Derek grabs the crowbar.

Robert scrambles to the gun. Picks it up. Points it at Derek.

Both stare each other down. Heavy breathing.

                         DEREK
             You fuckin' hit me.

                         ROBERT
             Don't move.

                         DEREK
             What the hell do you think you're
             doing?

                         ROBERT
             I don't know, really. You haven't
             exactly left a lot of people
             alive lately.

Derek steps toward Robert.

                         DEREK
             Don't make this hard.

Robert grips the gun tighter.

                         ROBERT
             You stay there.

                         DEREK
             I wasn't going to hurt you.

                         ROBERT
             You killed five people.

                         DEREK
             Five people who were trying to
             kill me. Look, I don't have time
             to explain it to you.

He moves to Robert.

Robert FIRES the gun. Misses Derek.

                         DEREK
             You mother-fucker.

Derek wheels and THROWS the crowbar.

Robert raises his hands and ducks away. The crowbar NAILS
him across the head. He drops the gun. Stumbles a few feet.
Falls down.

                         ROBERT
             Dammit.

Derek strides over to Robert. Pulls him up.

                         DEREK
             Think you're some kind of hero?

He PUNCHES Robert. Robert falls down again.

Derek moves toward the gun.

Robert TRIPS him.

Both lay on the asphalt.

Derek rolls to his side. Starts to stand.

Robert lunges at him.

                         DEREK
             Get off me.

                         ROBERT
             The police are coming. You can't
             get away.

Derek gets to the gun.

Robert KICKS him in the back. Scampers to the other side of
the sports car. Crouches behind it.

                         DEREK
             I just need your tire.

                         ROBERT
             Take it. It's yours.

Derek stands and moves to the car.

                         DEREK
             This doesn't have to be hard.

                         ROBERT
             On you or me?

Robert THROWS GRAVEL into Derek's eyes.

He bolts to his car. Gets into the driver's seat. Starts the
car.

Derek RUNS to the car. STRUGGLES with Robert as the car
eases along. Flat tire SCREACHING.

He PULLS Robert from the car. It rolls into the ditch. Stops.

The two GRAPPLE.

Derek PINS Robert. Points the gun at him.

Robert stops struggling.

                         ROBERT
             You said you weren't a killer.

                         DEREK
             I said things get complicated.

Derek pulls the gun back.

Robert SWINGS his fist.

Derek DUCKS it. FIRES the gun...

...KILLING Robert.

                         DEREK (VO)
             I'm not a bad person. Instinct
             kicks in, and bad things just
             happen.

                         DEREK
                  (quiet)
             Dammit...

Derek stands.

                         DEREK (VO)
             I don't know how I got here. I
             just need to keep moving.

He walks to the spare tire. Starts ROLLING it to Robert's car.

IN THE DISTANCE

SIRENS echo through the desert.

A line of POLICE CARS fades in from the HORIZON.

Derek turns to face them. Gun to his side. The SUN BLAZING.

                         DEREK (VO)
             I'm running out of time.