Silverado

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FADE IN:

INT. SHACK - DAY

Darkness. Quiet. The CAMERA MOVES through the gloom of the

small, dirty, wooden hut, past a broken table, over a well-

worn saddle lying on the floor. Now, a pair of boots standing

empty by the rotting remains of a rough-hewn bunk, up to a

holstered gun hung on the corner of the bed. The still shape

of a man, a bedroll his only protection from the splintery

planks. This is EMMETT, fast asleep.

The door of the shack bursts inward as a Gunman crashes in.

For a moment he is silhouetted against the blinding morning

light, his two six-guns blasting even before the door has

bounced shut behind him, returning the hut to darkness.

Emmett's holster, the gun gone.

The gun is here in Emmett's hand, erupting now with three

quick explosions. The intruder flies against the far wall of

the hut and lands on the floor dead. From outside, two bullets

pierce the plank wall behind Emmett, light streaming through

in .45 calibre shafts.

Emmett is out of the bunk and on the floor. He fires once

over the bunk. In the moment of quiet that follows, we hear

running FOOTSTEPS outside the hut. Emmett follows their

progress with the point of his gun, but holds his fire.

Suddenly a shotgun blasts a large hole in the roof of the

shack, and the table disintegrates in a new column of light.

Emmett glances upward, but quickly returns his attention to

the side walls, trying to follow that gunman. Now more fire

comes from there and more footsteps. Another shotgun blast

showers Emmett with debris, but he ignores it, concentrating

on the walls.

WHAT HE SEES. The Man Outside moves quickly past a crack in

the wall, momentarily revealing his spot by blocking the

light. Emmett fires once ahead of him, stopping his progress

and forcing him back to the crack. Emmett fires his last

shot there, and the man outside goes down hard.

The shotgun rips another jagged hole in the ceiling and blows

a crater in the dirt by Emmett's foot. The shape of a man

flashes across the new hole. Emmett looks across the room at

the top bunk, where the barrel of his Winchester protrudes a

few inches from the bare planks. Emmett throws his empty six-

gun noisily into the far corner of the hut. Instantly the

man on the roof blasts away in that direction.

Emmett dives for the bunk. With the tips of his fingers, he

pulls hard on the muzzle. The Winchester flips full circle

into the air as the bunk behind it is shredded from above.

With an odd kind of inevitability, as though seeking its

rightful place, the Winchester arcs into a shaft of light,

where it is met by Emmett's steady, waiting hands. Before it

has even settled, he has cocked and fired twice through a

hole in the roof. Emmett stops and lowers the carbine. The

Man on the Roof falls spread-eagled through the weakened

ceiling. Debris and sunlight shower his lifeless form.

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