A little less than nothing

***** NOTE: I know that the dialogue is incorrectly formatted in this, it's just way easier to do it this way. Thanks for the read. ******


FADE IN:

EXT. STREET -- NIGHT

Streetlights barely light a suburban block during a moderate rainstorm.

NATHAN, 20, walks down the street in a black hoody, jeans and a backpack.  He's been up for 30 hours and looks like it. 

He stops, notices: every house on the street has a car parked in the driveway and the front light is on, except for a blue one, mid-block.  He walks toward that house.

EXT. ROY'S BACKYARD -- NIGHT

A far from manicured lawn lays behind the blue two story house and stretches all the way to a high wooden fence in back. 

The house has pink backdoor with nine small pieces of glass inside it, leading into the kitchen.

Nathan slides his backpack off and pulls out a pistol, walks to the door and smashes the gun through one of the pieces of glass.  He puts the gun back in his bag and puts the on the back pack.

He reaches through the door, unlocks and opens it.

NATHAN: Simple.

He pulls his arm out almost all the way, cuts his finger on the glass.

NATHAN: Fuck.

He pushes the door the rest of the way open and walks into the house.

INT./EXT. ROY'S CAR -- NIGHT

The radio lightly plays smooth jazz in an old, beat up, yellow station wagon.  It's interior is faux-leather, several tears reveal the yellow stuffing underneath.

ROY, 38, tall, and lanky, like a skeleton working on a beer gut, wearing a collared shirt and khakis, drives the car.

His daughter, ASHLEY, 14, dressed in a white button-up shirt, black mini-skirt and heels, sits with tears welling up in her eyes.

ROY: I can -- not believe your behavior.

ASHLEY: Daddy, I'm so sorry.

Roy stares at her.  He grabs her by the chin.

ROY: Sorry doesn't really fix it, does it Ashley?

ASHLEY: No.

He releases her face.

INT. ROY'S KITCHEN -- NIGHT

There is a kitchen area with an oven and fridge and a dining area with a table.  With no light except that from the street lights, Nathan bumbles around, hits his shin on a chair.

NATHAN: Shit.

Finally, he finds what he was looking for: paper towels.  He wraps his finger with it, makeshift tying it at the base of his finger.

INT./EXT. ROY'S CAR -- NIGHT

Roy is at a stop light, he looks over at Ashley: she is crying hard; he stares at her.
He slaps her so hard that she becomes silent.

ROY: Stop fucking crying.

He stares at her: she just sits there, tears rolling down her face. 

The light turns green.  He looks up at it, then back at her for a moment; starts to drive.

INT. ROY'S LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

Nathan stumbles across the dark room bumping into the couch, then the coffee table next to it.  He stops, notices the six dvds on the table.

NATHAN: If I have room.

He keeps walking toward the staircase.

EXT. ROY'S HOUSE -- NIGHT

Roy's yellow car pulls in front of the blue house and parks in the driveway.

INT. ROY'S STAIRCASE -- NIGHT

The stairs are carpeted.  There are pictures of Ashley all the way up the wall.  Nathan zips up the stairs oblivious to the pictures.

EXT. ROY'S HOUSE -- NIGHT

Roy shakes his keys in his left hand; his right on the back of Ashley's neck.  They are a few feet from the door.

INT. ROY'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT

A simple, but disorderly bed and dresser; dark.  Dirty clothes and pornographic magazines are littered all over the floor.

Nathan walks in, looks at the floor.  He picks up a magazine and looks at it, smiles and puts it in his backpack.  He looks at another one.

He drops it:

NATHAN: Ugh.  Fucking sick.

He walks to the dresser.  There is a small wad of cash, a hundred at most, and a nice watch.  He grabs both of them, shoves it in his pocket.

INT. ROY'S LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

Roy leads Ashley with her head down through the living room in complete silence, toward the basement door.  There he turns the light on, follows her in, closing the door behind him.

INT. ROY'S BATHROOM -- NIGHT

Dirty, bordering on filthy; the bristles on a toothbrush in a coffee cup behind the faucet on the sink are the same dark shade of yellow as the bathtub and the toilet. 

Nathan flips on the light, looks at himself in the mirror.  He winks at himself, opens the medicine cabinet, sees Vicodin.

He grabs it, shoves it in his pocket; closes the medicine cabinet, peers into his own eyes.

INT. ASHLEY'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT

Her room is absolutely tidy. A felt marker poster of a purple and pink unicorn looms
above her perfectly made bed. 

Her clothes are folded in a basket, and there's nothing on the floor except for a cat toy. 
A dresser with vanity sits against the opposite wall.  Nathan walks to it, finding a musical jewelry box.  He winds it a little, then a unicorn spins on top of it, playing a unicorn melody.

He opens it and the music stalls.  He steals all of the jewelry, closing it restarts the jovial music.

INT. ROY'S STAIRCASE -- NIGHT

As Nathan walks down the staircase he stops and looks at the pictures of Ashley.  He looks up and down, realizing they are all of the same girl.

INT. ROY'S LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

Nathan is stumbling through the room, he stops and steals the dvds, shoving them into his bag.

He tries to go across the room again, hitting his shin on the table again, only harder this time.

NATHAN: (loud) FU -- (quietly) Ccckkkkkk.  Ouch.

He grabs his shin. 

The basement door pops open, splashing light all over him.

He reaches into his bag and grabs his gun, pointing it in that direction.

NATHAN: (to himself) Probably just has to pee ...

Nathan stands still, looking at the door for a second, still blind from the flash of light.

CAT (O.S.): MEOW!  Meorrrow!

Nathan looks down, a small, cute cat walks through his legs.

He puts the gun down, sighs, shakes his head.  He puts the gun back in his back pack, bumbles toward the door.

Ashley's voice flies up from the basement, Nathan stops in his tracks.

ASHLEY(O.S.): Please don't hurt me.  Please!

Nathan looks at the basement door, then at the back one.  He contemplates, then heads toward the backdoor.

ASHLEY(O.S.): PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!  PLEASE!  HELP!

Nathan stops.  Looks at the basement door, runs to it; looks into the

UNFINISHED BASEMENT

in complete horror.  Roy throws Ashley head first into the corner of the washing machine. 

She lays there, blood draining down her face and onto the concrete floor.

NATHAN: What the fuck are you doing?

He rushes down the stairs.

NATHAN: What the fuck is wrong with you?

ROY: Too many things to count, but none of them compare to what's about to be wrong with you.

Roy pulls a butterfly knife out of his pocket, quickly flicking it open.

NATHAN: I don't want to have to hurt you, guy.

Nathan backs up toward the stairs.

Ashley slowly sits up, looks at them.

ROY: Then don't hurt me, boy.

Roy walks toward Nathan; he backs a little further up the stairs.  Nathan is about halfway up the stairs, suddenly, Roy stops, laughs. 

ROY: Let me do all the hurtin' for you.

He jumps at Nathan, slicing him in the arm.

NATHAN: Fuck!

Nathan suddenly kicks Roy in the chest, he flies down the stairs, crashing into a wall at the bottom.  His knife flies into the basement and starts spinning on the floor.

Nathan runs down the stairs, past the unconscious slump that is Roy, to Ashley.  He kneels in front of her.

NATHAN: Girl, are you ok?

There is blood all over her shirt. He waves his hand in her face, she blinks. 

NATHAN: Girl?

He snaps his fingers.

NATHAN: Do you understand me?

Waves his hand in her face again.

NATHAN: Girl?

He pulls out a cell phone from his pocket.  Roy gets up, slowly, walks toward the knife.

NATHAN: Everything's going to be alright.  You're going to be alright, ok?

Roy grabs the knife, Ashley's eyes get larger, she lightly whimpers.  Nathan's phone beeps, he pulls it from his ear, looks at it, puzzled.

NATHAN: Call failed?

Roy smiles as he looms over Nathan, Ashley whimpers loudly; Nathan turns, the knife barely nicks his shoulder.  He falls to the left, sliding as far away as he can as quickly as he can. 

ROY: That's two.  Third one's the charm.

Roy starts to walk toward him, he unzips his bag.

ROY: Ready to die, mother --

Nathan shoots him in the head, he falls backward, dead, onto Ashley.

Pause.

Ashley screams as loud as ten fire alarms in the concrete room and doesn't stop; Nathan stares at her.

Pause.

NATHAN: Girl!  Stop!

She doesn't, he turns and runs up the stairs.

INT. NEIGHBOR'S KITCHEN -- NIGHT

A sink full of dishes and suds. 

MRS. GEISER, 45, hair in a bun, jeans, white shirt and a very 80's denim jacket, pausing dish duty, peers through the window.  Her left fore and middle fingers separate the blinds; her right hand holds the phone to her ear.

MRS. GEISER: What? (pause) Yeah, like I said, I heard a gunshot next door.

She takes a really deep breath.

MRS. GEISER: You know -- the noise a gun makes when you shoot it.  Gun.  Shot.
(pause)Yeah, sure.  Of course.

Placing her hand on the microphone, she looks into the living room:

MRS. GEISER: Goddamn cops don't their ass from a hole in the ground.

She quickly moves her hand.

MRS. GEISER: Yes, officer, I'm still here.  Un-huh.  Who the hell is that?

Nathan runs across the backyard.

MRS. GEISER: Some guy just ran out of the house. (pause) Oh.  He's a white guy, tall, stocky, black hoody, backpack.  (pause) No.  Black hoody.  You know -- a jacket with a hood.

He jumps the fence.

EXT. ALLEY -- NIGHT

Nathan lands on the gravel on this side of the fence, slips falls.  Stands up and starts running.

SERIES OF SHOTS - NATHAN RUNS THROUGH ALLEYS AND STREETS
-- He runs across the first street break; police sirens are lightly in the background.
-- Runs through an alley, sirens are louder.
-- Through another alley, sirens even louder still.

EXT. BANK PARKING LOT -- NIGHT

An empty parking lot.  A large dumpster sits against a very tall building.  The sirens are very near.

Nathan runs to the dumpster, hops in.

EXT. BANK PARKING LOT -- DAY

It's morning, there are a few cars in the lot.  The sun is lightly shining.
Nathan crawls out of the dumpster, puts his hoody in his back pack.

EXT. BUS STOP -- DAY

A shitload of people stand bunched together at a corner waiting for the bus.  It comes.

EXT. APARTMENT COMPLEX -- DAY

Nathan gets off the bus, looks at the apartment complex in front of him.

INT. NATHAN'S APARTMENT -- DAY

Sparsely decorated, table complete with speed pipe and nearly empty baggy of dope, and a couch that's seen better days -- instead of one leg is a paint can.  There's a lamp, a television and bare walls.

RACHEL, 18, pretty, in a pink nightgown, lays on the couch in the fetal position covering herself with a blanket; a box of tissues in her lap.

The television is on the morning news.

The door behind her opens, she turns.

RACHEL: Oh my god Nathan, I thought that was you.  I thought that was you.

She rushes to him and gives him a hug.

RACHEL: Where have you been?

Nathan pushes her away and sits on the couch, looking at the television.

ON THE TV

A MAN, 27, in a suit sits in a newsroom, a graphic of a chalk outline to the rigght of his head.

MAN: Here's Johnson with a story we broke last night, here first on action 7.

Johnson talks over images of that familiar blue house, pictures Roy and Ashley both appear on the television. 

MAN: What police are describing as a vigilante broke into this seemingly normal house and saved this seemingly normal girl from a life of prostitution.  Since we broke this story last evening, ten members of what appears to be the biggest child sex ring in tri-county history have been arrested, and several others are being sought out for questioning.  The vigilante is still wanted and presumed armed and dangerous.  Back to you John.

BACK TO SCENE

Nathan dumps out the things from his bag onto the table, the gun falls out as well.  He empties his pocket.  Tosses her the pills from his pocket.

Rachel looks at the pills, notices the name Roy Kelly; she looks at Nathan.

RACHEL: It was you.

NATHAN: Lets just get high, please. 

She sits on the couch next to Nathan and wraps her arms around him.

THE END