ZOMBIESOURCING INTERNATIONALE by D.R.

Meier

9979 W Edna Boise, Idaho 83704 dennisraymeier@gmail.com 208-866-0952

Begin with a television commercial, a slick, professional production. A muscular man, dressed as an Aztec warrior, scowls into the camera. He holds a large shield in front of his chest and speaks in SPANISH, SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH: AZTEC WARRIOR Some people say Mexico cannot be a player in the new world economy, that Mexico lacks the ability to create and manufacture world-class goods. . . Well, to such people, I have one thing to say . . . The warrior lowers his shield to reveal a snug-fitting singlet emblazoned with the phrase Mexico Works! AZTEC WARRIOR Mexico Works! A SONG PLAYs: SANTANAS SOUL SACRIFICE The commercial switches to a montage of shots showing large trucks rolling past Mexican landmarks and icons: Monumento a la Independencia, El Zcalo, and the Paseo de la Reforma. The drivers wave or blow their horns, and on the side of each trailer, in huge type, are the words Mexico Works! The commercial switches back to the Aztec Warrior, who is now standing on the trailers of two large Mexico Works trucks parked end-to-end, his muscular legs straddling the gap. In the background, we see a massive manufacturing plana maquiladoro. SONG FADES TO BACKGROUND AZTEC WARRIOR Business managers, if you love Mexico, you need Mexico Works! JUMP CUT TO: A SECOND TELEVISION COMMERCIAL Another slick, professional production. A muscular man dressed as a RUSSIAN COSSACK stands with crossed arms and scowling face. The Cossack speaks in RUSSIAN, SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH:

COSSACK Some people say Russia cannot be a player in the new world economy, that Russian lacks the ability to create and manufacture world-class goods. . . Well, to such people, I have one thing to say . . . The Cossack rips off his coat to reveal a snug-fitting singlet emblazoned with the phrase Russia Works! COSSACK Russia Works! A SONG PLAYs: SOMETHING BY ARIA, ARDA, OR CHORNY KOFE The commercial switches to a montage of shots showing large trucks rolling past Russian landmarks and icons: Red Square, Zvezdny Gorodok (Star City), and the winter palace in Leningrad. The drivers wave or blow their horns, and on the side of each trailer, in huge type, are the words Russia Works! The commercial switches back to the Cossack, who is now standing next to an engine of the Trans-Siberian Railroad. In the background, the engineer looks at the window as the Cossack speaks. SONG FADES TO BACKGROUND COSSACK Business managers, if you love Russia, you need Russia Works! In the b.g., the engineer toots his horn, and the train slowly begins to move. JUMP CUT TO: A THIRD TELEVISION COMMERCIAL Another slick, professional production. A muscular man, a BRITISH BUSINESSMAN, dressed in a form-fitting pin-striped suit and bowler hat, stands on Westminster Bridge, with Parliament looming in the background. He scowls into the camera and speaks using an aristocratic accent. BRITISH BUSINESSMAN Some people say Britain has lost the its edge, that we, the progeny of an empire that once spanned the globe, 3

have become shadows of our former selves, nothing more than consumers rather than producers and directors of the global economy. . . Well, to such people, I have one thing to say . . . The man rips open his suit jacket and shirt (think Clark Kent revealing the S on his Superman uniform) to reveal a snug-fitting singlet emblazoned with the phrase Britain Works! BRITISH BUSINESSMAN Britain Works! A SONG PLAYs: SOMETHING BY BLACK SABBATH, JUDAS PRIEST, OR IRON MAIDEN The commercial switches to a montage of shots showing large trucks rolling past British landmarks and icons: the London Eye, the Battersea Power Station, and the Dublin chimneys. The drivers wave or blow their horns, and on the side of each trailer, in huge type, are the words Britain Works! The commercial switches back to the British Businessman, who is now standing in front of the Dover Cliffs SONG FADES to background. BRITISH BUSINESSMAN Business managers, if you love Britain, you need Britain Works! The camera pulls out, revealing that the man is standing on the bow of a massive container ship. Atop the ships are stacks of containers, all of which are emblazoned with the words Britain Works! CUT THE SOUND AS A FOURTH TELEVISION COMMERCIAL BEGINS, THIS ONE SHOWING A MUSCULAR YOUNG MAN DRESSED IN LEDERHOSEN AND A FEATHERED HAT. The man speaks, soundlessly, tears open his shirt to reveal the words Deutschland Arbeitet, three trucks with Deutschland Arbeitet written on the sides roll by German landmarks, and then the guy in lederhosen says something else. Meanwhile, WOODY, a former Texas prison guard is speaking off screen.

WOODY (V.O.) After Houston, I travelled to El Paso with the Russians, and we kicked some zombie butt in a big way. But . . . But then we all got to thinkingme, Lev, Yakov, and Grisha: whats so wrong about using zombie labor? The zombies dont care; I mean, technically, they arent even alivejust virus-driven masses of dead tissue is the way I understand it. The only people who really get hurt are the zombies foodthey prefer human flesh when they can get itbut theres no end of good meat sitting in prisons. Think anybody cares what happens to murderers, rapists, and pedophiles? . . . I havent found many who do. You just have to define your ethical boundaries. . . As long as you define your ethical boundaries, nobody gets hurt . . . nobody anybody cares about at least. Take Ciudad Juarez, El Pasos sister city across the border in Mexico. Crime-torn Juarez, home to drug cartels that once ran rampant over the good people, extorting money, murdering when they dont get it. . . Well, lets just say that I saw an opportunity to right some wrongs and make a few pesos in the meantime. Aint nothing wrong with that, right? FADE OUT A SONG PLAYS: SOMETHING BY A MEXICAN METAL BANDASESINO, IRA DISSOLVE TO: EARTH FROM HIGH ORBITSLOWLY SPINNING. ZOOM IN AND PLACE A STYLYZED SKULL (REPRESENTING DIA DE LOS MUERTES) ON CIUDAD 5

JUAREZ, JUST ACROSS THE BORDER FROM EL PASO. SUPER: JUAREZ, MEXICO, HOME OF 2,500 MAQUILLADOROS, OUTSOURCED U.S. MANUFACTURING PLANTS. SUPER: IN 2009, THERE WERE ONLY ABOUT 300. CUT TO: EXTCUIDAD JUAREZ MAQUILADORADAY A young man, SANCHO CRUZ, clad in jeans, tee shirt, and sandals ambles down a back-alley street past non-descript office buildings and warehouses. A daypack dangles from one shoulder, sagging heavily at the bottom. POV Sancho: Ahead is a doorway guarded by two sunglasswearing men holding automatic weapons. As he approaches, the nearest man coolly appraises Sancho, nods, and pushes open the door. Sancho enters, unslinging the daypack as he walks down a hallway. We see one hand plunge into the pack and then pull back, holding a fragmentation grenade. Sancho pulls the safety pin on the grenade and holds the safety bar down with his thumb. He turns a corner and sees another guard standing next to a door. The guard nods and then steps forward, walking past Sancho, who is left standing in the hall before the door. FOCUS ON: HAND HOLDING THE GRENADE.

Sanchos thumb releases the safety lever, and we hear him softly count to himself: Uno, dos, tres, . . . At the count of three, he opens the door, tosses in the grenade, pulls the door closed, and slides down the wall, away from the door. Surprised SHOUTS and the SCUFFLING OF FEET come from inside the room, and then the BOOM of the grenade exploding in a closed space erases all other sounds. Dust billows from around the sides of the door. Sancho places the daypack on the ground, reaches inside, and pulls out a pistol and a huge syringe of the type used with cattle. He pulls a plastic case out of a side pocket, extracts a long needle, and fits the needle onto the syringe. He rummages around in the pack again and pulls out a bundle of thick nylon safety ties held together with a rubber band. Last, he pulls out a small black box from another side pocket and flips a switch on the side. A green light glows at one end of the box. He stands up, chambers a shell, and walks briskly through 6

the door. Inside, we see about twenty bodies and chairs strewn across a windowless room. Most of the bodies appear to be dead, but two moan; Sancho walks over to the groaners and shoots them in the head. He binds the hands of the bodies using the safety ties. He then picks up the syringe and injects each body. Finished, he packs up, slings his pack across a shoulder, and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. CUT TO: A TABLE OUTSIDE A CANTINA Sancho sits at the table, a beer before him, and removes a phone from his pocket. He dials and speaks. In the b.g. we see the door where the two guards had stood earlier. SANCHO Twenty! He listens. SANCHO Necesito sesenta! I had to pay off three guards. He listens again, nodding, apparently satisfied at what he is hearing. SANCHO Acuerdo. He hangs up, places his phone on the table, picks up the beer, and holds it out in the direction of the previously guarded door. SANCHO Prost! que Muthas! Your sorry asses are now worth something! CUT TO: ANOTHER TABLE OUTSIDE ANOTHER CANTINA Woody hands up his phone and slips it into the front pocket of his white guayabera shirt. He is seated at a table, wearing chino shorts, huaraches, a Panama hat, and sunglasses. On the table is a cold beer; he takes a sip and motions to somebody OS. 7

ANGLE ON A man standing next to the open passenger door of a large cargo truck sees Woody wave. He turns and climbs into the truck, which moves off, raising dust from the road. We follow the truck as it meanders through narrow streets. WOODY (VO) Nobody gives a rats ass about drug lords getting killedexcept for maybe the drug lords. Sucks for them. The truck arrives at the doorway through which Sancho had gone earlier. In the b.g., we see Sancho rise and walk away. WOODY Basically, the motherfuckers were totally useless in real life. . . Nothing but leeches on society. The way I figure it, we convert them into something useful. The guards we saw earlier now prod their drug lord-cumzombie bosses to the back of the truck, push them over to flop onto the truck bed, and then roll them to the front. The guards show the same level of care for their former bosses that airline baggage handlers show for bags. WOODY The worst ones, the really brutal and sadistic drug lords? The ones that rape and kills kids, or make loved ones watch while they off somebody? . . . They get special treatment. JUMP CUT TO: An old bullfight arena, crowded, noisy. PAN to show 360 degrees of stands filled with screaming, joyous people standing behind concertina wire. ANGLE ON In the center of the ring stand five men, their backs pressed against a tall pole atop which sits a black box with a green light on top. Each man has a machete gripped tightly in one hand, and all stare at the entry doors to 8

the arena floor. P.A. ANNOUNCER(VO) Que se haga justicia! The entry doors bang open, and a dozen or more zombies amble out, prodded by handlers. The handlers return, closing the doors behind them, and then we hear the THUNK of a crossbeam being placed on the doors to hold them closed. TIGHT ON EYES OF THE FIVE MEN The men, each a reviled drug lord with a long history of barbarism, knows what is coming. They stand back-to-back, in a rare alliance, hoping to fend off the inevitable. PA ANNOUNCER (VO) Es hora de cenar! First, the green light atop the pole goes out. Second, the zombies go from docile to deadly, and they immediately rush at the five men. The men hack with their machetes, and they manage to hold off the first wave of attackers. They even do well against the second wave. But the zombies dont seem to mind losing a hand or even an entire arm; they just keep coming, and coming, and the men are finally bowled over. Sounds of SCREAMS, bones CRACKING, and WET MEATY NOISES of the sort you hope never to hear. REVERSE ANGLE The crowd goes wild. JUMP CUT TO The truck we were following earlier drives away. We follow it along more narrow streets that finally debouch onto a main road. The truck follows the road until it comes to a modern warehouse surrounded by tall chain link fencing topped with concertina wire. The sign out front proclaims, Mexico Works! WOODY (VO) Like I was saying, we saw an opportunity to right some wrongs and 9

make a few pesos in the meantime. . . Nahthere aint nothing wrong with that. FADE OUT A SONG PLAYS: SOMETHING BY ARIA, KREMATORIJ, OR CHORNY KOFE EARTH FROM HIGH ORBITSLOWLY SPINNING. ZOOM IN AND PLACE A BIG RED STAR ON MOSCOW, RUSSIA. SUPER: MOSCOW, RUSSIANEW AGE CYNOSURE OF COMPUTER AND HIGH-TECH MANUFACTURING. CUT TO: EXTMOSCOW, RED SQUAREDAY Two young men and a young woman dressed in jeans and overcoats walk across a light skiff of snow, sipping coffee drinks in Starbucks cups as St Basil's cathedral looms in the background. All three wear identical sunglasses with thick black frames little red stars on the temples. The camera follows the young people as LEV NEVISKY, son of IVAN NEVISKY (one of the scientists who introduced the zombie virus and who was subsequently infected with the virus himself), speaks off screen IN ENGLISH. LEV (VO) When labor is cheap, you can build anything anywhere. Take computers. Not easy to make computers here in Russia and then sell them around the globe. . . Too much cost to ship, for one thing. . . But with zombie labor on the production line, we start Red Star Computers, hire some computer designers, and just like that: success! (Sighing) I had not expected to be in the business of supplying zombie workers after working so hard to eliminate zombies in America, but a person has to work, and we have not seen or heard from Dr. Shevosky since Houston. We fear he may have been killed. The young people reach a building that appears to date back to the 1930s, or even earlier. At the top of the building is a large red starthe logo of Red Star Computers. They 10

open the front door and enter into a typical cubicle maze: in every cubicle is a young personeven younger than the three who just enteredwearing the same sunglasses with the red star. A young woman wearing a white clean room suit, hood, and sunglasses approaches one of the men, SERGEI YUSEV, who just entered. She looks at the others, he gaze slightly averted when she gazes at the other woman, and then SPEAKS IN RUSSIAN WITH ENGLISH SUBTITLES to Sergei. YOUNG WOMAN IN VEST We had contamination in Fab 3, but it was quickly contained SERGEI Show me the data! CLOSE ON SERGEIS GLASSES. We see backwards numbers scrolling across and down the lensesthe sunglasses are the Red Star computers. JUMP CUT TO Inside a large manufacturing bay, workers in white clean room suits and hoods stand next to a conveyor belt holding Red Star sunglasses. The workers are zombies. Each performs some operation on the glasses. FOCUS ON worker adjusting an internal screw using a small screwdriver. In the b.g. we see another worker, slightly out of focus, as something falls from the workers face. CLOSE ON WORKER IN BACKGROUND We see that the worker, whose eyes are twisted inward, is missing his nose. ANGLE ON ASSEMBLY LINE The missing nose lies on the assembly line, having fractured into chalky pieces. A small cloud of dead tissue slowly settles on the assembly line. LEV (VO) Although cheap, using zombies is not without cost. Is especially a problem since virus improved to allow reanimation of bodies longer dead. Scientists with America 11

Still Works make the discovery and have shared it with other zombiesourcing organizations around the globe. Originally, bodies had to be injected without six hours, but now bodies having been dead for days and even weeks are being usedmainly because we are running out of murderers and rapists to inject. Supply is always a problem. Old bodies sometimes lose pieces. . . Is sad but true. JUMP CUT TO THE THREE YOUNG PEOPLE Sergei turns to his two companions and speaks in RUSSIAN WITH ENGLISH SUBTITLES. SERGEI Damn! We need to get those face shields in use for fabrication. These falling pieces are screwing becoming a quality control nightmare! Well have to reject the entire batch on the floor! Sergei mutters for a moment and then looks up at his two companions. I will catch up with you later. He turns back to the woman in the clean room suit, nods, and walks away briskly; the woman follows. FOCUS ON the remaining man (ANATOLY KERCHEV) and woman (NATASHA SHEVOSKY). Anatoly shrugs, but Natasha scowls angrily. Pulling a phone from a pocket of her coat, she dials. NATASHA That idiot Nevisky better have a solution!

12

A SONG PLAYS: SOMETHING BY ARIA, KREMATORIJ, OR CHORNY KOFE CUT TO INTWAREHOUSEDAY The daylight warehouse is empty except for a small wooden table and three seated figures. ZOOM IN AND PAN AROUND THE TABLE Upon the table sits a half-empty bottle of vodka, three shot glasses, and three cell phones. Seated in wooden chairs around the table are LEV, YAKOV, and GRISHA, who we know from the first movie. All three look gloomy. A BUZZING NOISE IS HEARDone of the phones is ringing. All three men look at the table; LEV picks up his phone, which is buzzing and flashing. He looks at the display and frowns. THE MEN SPEAK IN RUSSIAN WITH ENGLISH SUBTITLES. LEV Fuck me! Shevoksys granddaughter again! YAKOV No doubt calling to bust your balls again about Red Stars zombie workers. LEV (Sighing) No doubt. He presses the speaker button and places the phone on the table. LEV (With feigned enthusiasm) Natasha! How good to hear from you dear! I was just telling my compatriots about how lovely you are; not even a business suit can hide your feminine charms! What can I do for you on this fine day, dear? SPLIT SCREEN 13

NATASHA Skip the false flattery you big baboon! We are hemorrhaging money because your workers are falling to pieces! Why must you send me these decaying husks? LEV Dear Natasha, surely you realize that we have difficulty finding enough workers to satisfy the great demand. Every business in Russia wants zombies, but there are not enough dying people to go aroundat least not enough of the right kind: we can only take those who meet our exacting requirements. NATASHA Exacting requirements? You are out of your mind! You are sending me workers who need another worker just to sweep up the pieces that drop off. How can I run a sensitive manufacturing business with these things? LEV Natasha, we are all squeezed by the lack of supply. There are simply not enough zombies to go around, and I have to take care of my other customers as well. I am juggling many balls here. NATASHA Get me better workers, or I will be squeezing your balls! Natasha hangs up. Lev stares at his phone before reaching over to turn it off. GRISHA (Looking at Yakov) Could be pleasant to have her squeezing your balls, no?

14

LEV (Looking off into distance) How did we get into this situation? YAKOV We needed money and something to do once Shevosky disappeared. Fortunately, Vladimir came to our aid. LEV Da. . . I guess he did. But who would have thought that we would go straight from killing zombies to selling them? GRISHA Men do what they must to survive. Sometimes the easiest choice is the opposite of what you were doing before; you at least know what you are getting into when turn around and face the other direction, yes? YAKOV We were lucky to have been contacted by Vladimir when we got back to Russia. Had we not, we might now be working as bouncers in some bar . . . or worse. Lev ponders for a moment, nodding slowly. Then he reaches for the bottle, fills his glass, and quickly downs a shot. LEV Da. It could be worse. But I wonder . . . whatever happened to Shevosky, Papka, and that Dr. Mentzer who started it all? FADE OUT A SONG PLAYS: SOMETHING BY BLACK SABBATH, JUDAS PRIEST OR IRON MAIDEN FADE IN ON: EARTH FROM HIGH ORBITSLOWLY SPINNING. ZOOM IN AND PLACE A 15

BIG EURO SIGN ON LONDON, ENGLAND. CUT TO: INTOFFICE BUILDING WITH VIEW OF ST. PAULS CATHEDRAL IN THE DISTANCEDAY Men in business suits sit around a long table, their affiliations revealed by folded name tents placed before them. CUT TO: POV a CLERICAL person who enters the room behind a man in a gray suit; the man walks to the head of the table while the clerk moves around the table, placing a spiral-bound document in front of each attendee. Focus on each name tent as the clerk places packets of bound papers before each person at the table; the tents read as follows: Britain Still Works America Still Works Russia Still Works Mexico Still Works Brazil Still Works Canada Still Works Germany Still Works Spain Still Works France Still Works Ukraine Still Works Argentina Still Works Japan Still Works Italy Still Works As the last packet is handed out, DANIEL HIGGINS, whose placard says NEW ERA OUTSOURCING, LTD stands and begins to speak. HIGGINS (Smiling broadly) Gentlemen! Welcome to the first annual New Era Outsourcing roundtable meeting. I am Daniel Higgins, Chairman and CEO, 16

and it is my distinct pleasure to welcome you pioneers of an enterprise that is changing the way the shape of global manufacturing! Higgins spreads his arms wide, the very picture of a huckster. Please! Feel free to applaud yourselves! Higgins claps enthusiastically, causing the other members of the meeting to break out in applause as well. The clapping continues for several seconds as the camera pans the faces around the table. Most of the faces are smiling, but a few, most notably that of the Russian, are scowling. Higgins eggs them on for a few more moments, and then signals for an end to the self-congratulations. HIGGINS I thought it appropriate to start our meeting by recognizing how far we have come in so little time, but as we do have a very aggressive agenda, I would like to . . . The man sitting behind the Russia Still Works sign (VLADIMIR ROSKOV) interrupts abruptly. ROSKOV Excuse me please! A quick question first. HIGGINS Of course. Go ahead Mr. . . . Higgins leans forward to read the name at the bottom of Roskovs name tent. ROSKOV Roskov. Vladimir Roskov. The extended reanimation virus is not producing the quality result we had hoped for; my people tell me that many of the longer dead reanimates are not meeting the quality standards required for work in technology manufacturing. How can we get a better result? 17

Roskovs comment triggers a general muttering of assent, and the men around the table break into a multitude of discussions regarding shared experiences that threaten to spin the meeting out of control. HIGGINS (Holding up hands in a gesture requesting forbearance) Gentlemen! Gentlemen! I beg you to keep your focus on all that has been accomplished and all that can be accomplished! We are simply facing a normal challenge on the road to even greater success! Demand for our services is through the roof, gentlemen! Absolutely through the roof! Our ads are playing in your home countries, and I have enquiries from at least another dozen more looking to set up their own franchise. Is this process of creating viable workers from dead tissue perfect? No . . . Ill be the first to admit it . . . but we mustnt allow ourselves to see our temporary setbacks as more than a bump in the road. (Looking at Rostov) There are solutions. ROSTOV (Leaning back and crossing his arms.) I am listening. Higgins surveys the room and sees that everybody seems to be interested in pursuing this diversion from his prepared agenda. HIGGINS (Nodding) Okay, gentlemen, please turn to page 37 of your packet.

18

FOCUS ON PACKET. A LARGE HEADING AT THE TOP OF PAGE 37 SAYS, DEATH AMORTIZATION CONTRACTS. MATCH DISSOLVE TO: A CONTRACT CONTAINING A LOT OF UNREADABLE SMALL TEXT. ALL WE CAN MAKE OUT IS THE TITLE, WHICH SAYS, POST-ANIMATE DEBT AMORTIZATION AGREEMENT. INTLIVING ROOMDAY A SALESMAN in a poorly-fitting off-the-rack suit turns the contract, which is sitting on a coffee table, so that an elderly woman can see it. He smiles widely and speaks in a Cockney accent. SALESMAN There you go now, mum! All we need is your signature, and your debts are taken care of! ELDERLY WOMAN Oh . . . my. But, but, . . . Im selling body, aint I? SALESMAN Only your dead body, mum . . . once you have no need of it anymore. Think of it as selling your house after you are gone . . . you dont need a house once youve passed on, now do you? ELDERLY WOMAN (Shaking her head) No . . . I suppose not. SALESMAN Then you dont need no body neither! ELDERLY WOMAN (Nodding) The SALESMAN offers her a pen and flips to the final page of the contract. SALESMAN All I need is your signature right there, luv, and then you can run along 19

to your cribbage match. The woman signs. SALESMAN (Smiling broadly) Thank you, mum! The salesman folds up the contract, places it in his jacket pocket, and stands up. He looks down upon the elderly woman and bows slightly. SALESMAN May you live a thousand years! CUT TO: The salesman sits in a large brown 70s-vintage American sedan with numerous dents, on the street in front of a small cottage, watching as the elderly woman exits and walks down the lane, away from him. He pulls out his phone and dials. SALESMAN Shes walking to her card game now. JUMP CUT TO: Two men sit in an ambulance. The man in the passenger seat is speaking on his phone. AMBULANCE PASSENGER Right! Were on it. (Hangs up phone and turns to driver.) Were on. JUMP CUT TO: The elderly woman steps into an intersection, with the walk light, and walks. ROAR of a big V8, as the large brown 70s-vintage American sedan turns into the intersection, strikes the elderly lady with a loud KLUNK, and accelerates down the street, out of view. The ambulance pulls up seconds later, just as people come out of their houses to investigate the noise. The ambulance driver and passenger quickly pull a gurney 20

out of the back and approach the old woman. The driver kneels and touches her throat. AMBULANCE DRIVER (Loudly, so that people approaching can hear) Gorthis womans got no pulse! AMBULANCE PASSENGER (Also speaking to the growing crowd) Ill give her a shot of adrenaline! The ambulance passenger takes a syringe out of a pocket and injects the contents into the womans arm. Then the two men lift the woman onto the gurney, strap her in, raise the gurney, extend the legs, wheel the woman to the back of the ambulance, whisk the gurney inside, close the doors, and briskly accelerate away as the crowd of onlookers natter to each other. FADE OUT A SONG PLAYS: SOMETHING BY ROB ZOMBIE? MAYBE MELLOWER FOR THIS SCENE, BUT STILL MACABRE. FADE IN ON: EXTGALVESTON, STRAND DISTRICTDAY Focus on a second floor balcony rimmed by a wrought iron fence. A man sits there (DR. ARSENY SHEVOSKY), reading a bound report. As he reads, he raises a coffee cup from the bistro table placed next to him, sips from the cup, and grimaces. Shevosky lowers the report and, still holding the cup, enters an open doorway into a room lit only by the natural light streaming in through windows that look out at the bay. The room is sparsely furnished with old pieces that might have been new in the early 1900sprobably purchased after the great Hurricane of 1900. The floors are wood, and tin molding accents the high ceilings. Shevosky continues walking, pushing through a swinging door into a room that is the antipode of the previous: windowless, harshly lit, and industrially sterile. It is a laboratory, dominated by stainless steel tables and shelves upon which sit instruments and vials. At one of the tables sits a figure in a dark blue 21

sweatshirt, hood obscuring his head, and black trousers. The figure is studying the screen of a laptop computer. Shevosky empties the contents of his cup into a sink against one wall and pours fresh coffee from a stainless steel carafe sitting on the counter. He turns and walks over to the hooded figure; on the screen of the computer is an image of what looks to be microscopic organisms. Focus on the figure: What little we can see of the figures skin is pale, like that of an albino. We also see a black plastic bracelet with a small green light on one wrist. SHEVOSKY I have been reading what Arjun has sent us. His analysis indicates what we feared most: traditional outsourcing is being replaced by use of reanimates-everywhere. Companies around the globe are clamoring for reanimates, and there are not enough to meet the demand. Consequently, people are being killed. There is even a kind of reverse amortization scheme being used in Britain, wherein people with large debts can write off those debts by agreeing to become reanimated after they die. I suppose the idea is that they then work off their debts instead of passing it along to their children. The figure turns to face Shevosky, and we see he is the zombie DR. IVAN NEVISKY. NEVISKY (Speaking in a harsh croak, as though suffering from severe laryngitis, and with many pauses, as though thinking were difficult.) You . . . are . . . surprised? . . . Surprised that humans are . . . inhumane? SHEVOSKY No. . . Not at all. I am more surprised when humans treat each other as they would themselves. 22

People acting for motives other than self-interest always surprises me. I just didnt expect things to happen so quickly. It has not yet been two years since we quashed Mentzers plans in Houston; and now reanimates are used worldwide? NEVISKY Mentzer . . . already moving . . . international . . . even in Houston. SHEVOSKY (Nodding) I suspected as much. By the time he surfaced, America Still Works was already active in several states. There was no stopping him. I have little doubt he is behind the equivalent companies in other countries. I wish we had been able to capture him when we had the chance. NEVISKY Ideas . . . good or bad . . . cannot spread by single person . . . Ideas spread by many. Mentzer not only . . . bad person in world. SHEVOSKY (Nodding) You are correct on that point, my friend: bad ideas require bad people to spread them, and there are more than enough people willing to set aside their morals when it comes to making money. Our only hope now is that we can stem the tide by introducing the antiviral we have been trying to develop. NEVISKY Or . . . develop new strain . . . like 23

that in me . . . as alternative. SHEVOSKY (Furrowing brow) I dont see being an indentured slave with memories of your past as an improvement. I should think the poor souls who have no memory of their past existences are better off. NEVISKY All . . . have memories, Arseny . . . just matter of . . . degree. I . . . more than most when . . . Nevisky holds up the wrist with the black bracelet. SHEVOSKY When under the influence of extremely high frequency radiationEHF. Yes. You all have a flood of memories when the EHF is not there, which turns most reanimates mad. Only you appear to be able to be able to control the madness. NEVISKY Must be . . . others. This strain . . . dominant. Nature selects way most . . . sustainable. Virus want to . . . live. SHEVOSKY And a host that goes mad is not likely to live long. Yes. Yes. You are right. NEVISKY Need to . . . examine . . . others. We need . . . zombies. Shevosky stares at his partner for several long seconds before replying. SHEVOSKY All right. I will call Lev. 24

And then a bunch of other stuff happens. FADE TO BLACK

25