The Bastard

By David Lambert
Final Draft
1999
BLACK FRAME

We don’t know where we are. We can hear the jangling of spurs and the clomping of boots coming closer. Quickly, we hear the incoherent mumbling of various people and the creak of wagon wheels in the background. However, the stomping is too overbearing for us to focus on anything else. With a blinding surge of light the shot opens. 

EXT. MINING TOWN. DAYTIME. Ground level on a porch.

     We are uncomfortably close to the wooden planks of a porch covered in melting ice and mud. The spurred STOMPING is COMING closer. Blurred figures are moving about through the background. The STOMPING is COMING closer. Quickly, a spurred, iron-heeled boot, caked in mud, SMASHES down into frame, engulfing us. 
     We pan up behind the boot’s proprietor; TEXAS RED. He’s wearing a shit-brown duster, weathered, dirt stiff, and blowing backward toward us in thick snaps. We soon fix on the back of RED’s skull (his face unseen) while a trail of smoke blows back and overwhelms us. As he turns his head to survey the town, we do the same. 
     The mining town is beaten and broken down, looking as if it were haphazardly assembled out of rotted wood and bent nails. Small islands of snow are spread throughout, and a thin mist slightly veils the street. There is a procession of tents just outside of the main square, where dirty, malnutritioned miners are resting, playing cards, and drinking. All of the townsfolk are wearing thick coats and other winter clothes while their breath floats around their heads in a white mist. What we see of the street is muddy and covered in horseshit, with a group of drunken cowboys chuckling in the middle of it as one of them vomits on his own boots. 
     We drunkenly continue to follow RED with the sound of his stomping still in our ears.  He passes a meek, middle-aged man named WELDON who is sat upon a rocking chair picking his teeth and humming. We fix on him. He’s thin to the point of sickliness. He STOPS his humming and swallows a thick lump in his throat at the sight of the trench coat-clad stranger. WELDON recognizes him. RED is oblivious, or at least seems that way. In his best attempt not to arouse suspicion, WELDON slowly gets up and walks to a horse, unties it and heads off to an unknown direction. We then pan up to an arch bearing the town’s name; “Baby Head.” 
     WELDON quickly becomes a dot on the horizon. We pan up to the sky and back down to the earth, but this time we don’t see the town but a small, rundown farmhouse where a BOY and his FATHER are chopping wood for the winter. The father’s name is ERNIE.

EXT. FARMHOUSE. DAYTIME.

ERNIE
You know old Virgil is…Damn it to hell boy, that ain’t how you chop wood! Gimme that godforsaken ax!

SON
Sorry pa. (He hands the ax to his father)

ERNIE
Boy, if you don’t git your head straight I’m liable to give you a kick to your goddamn ribs (he splits a piece of wood). And don’t you call me pa. Your mother was but a whore when I met her and with all your clumsiness I doubt you’re my son at all. (He sets up another piece of wood and splits it) For all I know, you could be Brown Giteau’s boy. Don’t know why I even keep you around seein’ how she’s passed and all. (He splits another piece of wood)

The BOY just STARES at his father. ERNIE stands upright with the ax to his side. 

ERNIE
…the hell’s a matter with you? I hurt your feelings? Tough lil bastard fightin boys at the schoolhouse cain’t take it? Huh? 

The BOY continues to STARE at him.

ERNIE
Best say sumpin’ goddammit! I’ll wrap this ax handle ‘round your head! Have you walkin round shit-faced like a drunk-ass injun.

ERNIE pauses for a minute and then calms down. He’s breathing heavily and soon gets quiet.

ERNIE
T’ain’t yer fault….I’m just tryin to teach you this life the best I can. Here, let me show you.

ERNIE sets up a piece of wood, steadies his ax, and splits it in half.

ERNIE
And yer mother weren’t no whore.

We hear the clomping of horse hooves in the background. WELDON is quickly riding up to the farm.

WELDON
(Screaming) Ernie! Ernie! God-dammit! 

ERNIE 
What the hell you doin’ comin’ over here screamin’ like’at? You liable to wake up my youngins. 

WELDON 
Red is in town.

ERNIE
Sonovabitch. (He drops his ax)

WELDON
Reckon he was goin’ to the Desert Jewel Saloon.
Beat

ERNIE
Well we best git the hell down there then! (To his son) Boy, git me my scatter gun and my double actions. Make haste! (To WELDON) Did they disarm him when he come into town?

WELDON
I don’t recollect him carryin’ nothin’ but he was clad in a long duster.

ERNIE
Dammit, he’s liable to have all manner of shit in there.

We follow the BOY as he runs to the shed to get the guns. He throws a pistol belt over his shoulder and fills his pocket with a mess of shotgun shells. He grabs an English shotgun and clumsily runs back to his father with the gun cradled like a baby. 

ERNIE
Thanks boy. Looks like you gonna see yer’ first killin’ today. (To Weldon) You best ride back into town and round up the boys. But don’t be causin’ a ruckus or nothin’. Red’s a tricky sumbitch and the second he thinks sumpin’s wrong is the second he starts plannin’ up shit. Once you get ‘em together have another look at him...by yerself!

WELDON
All right. Where’ll we meet?

ERNIE
Gil Lawry’s. 

WELDON
The tonic stand?

ERNIE 
Yeah.
WELDON starts riding away.

ERNIE
And get a rope!

WELDON rides off. 

ERNIE
Boy, get together our possibles, I’m gonna’ check up on your brothers and sisters before we go.

ERNIE walks into his house as we track behind him. He goes into his children’s room where four children, ages 3 to 11 are sleeping on one bed. He stares at them solemnly while pulling a flask and drinking.

ERNIE
(Quietly) God damn me. 

ERNIE leaves the house to see his son is finishing the preparation of the horses.

ERNIE
(Softly) That’s fine work, boy. Now lets git goin’ ‘fore he skips town.

The two ride off as we pan to the sky and back down to the Earth, this time back in town. WELDON has just arrived on his horse and is tying it to a post near the group of drunken cowboys that were laughing at their puking companion earlier. They’re leaning on posts, a tall one named KUGEL is flicking a knife at a friend’s boot, two (named TILLMAN and BOGSON, respectively) are knelt over a barrel playing a game of Old Sledge. 

EXT. WOODEN PORCH. DAYTIME. Fog still veils the street.

WELDON
Boys…

TILLMAN
…the hell you want, Weldon?

WELDON
Red’s in town. 

KUGEL
…the fuck he is.

WELDON
I’m genuine. He was boundin’ to the Desert Jewel last I seen him.

KUGEL
Well, kiss a cock’s red ass. Didn’t think that Irish bastard’d come back to Baby Head. Must be itchin’ for a fight.

WELDON
The reason he’s here don’t matter. What does matter is that Ernie wants us to dry gulch the sumbitch.

BOGSON
Hell, yeah! After what he done… 

KUGEL
What’s the plan?

WELDON 
Well ya’ll s’posed to meet Ern at the tonic stand and he’ll give you the gist of it from there. I’m headin back to the Jewel to get a gander at the cursed rascal. 

We pan down from the gang to the muddy street and then pan up to ERNIE and his SON on their way to town. 
SON
Pa.

ERNIE
Yes?

SON
Why you want to kill this guy anyhow?

ERNIE
 (He sighs a deep breath) T’ain’t for ears as young as yours. Red’s done some hard shit and he needs to be put down like a rabid, rag-assed dog. Now don’t you query about it no further.

The SON is visibly disappointed at his father’s obvious attempt to hide something. The two enter Baby Head, dismount, tie their horses and make their way to the tonic stand. While walking there they both pause to stretch out their legs and pull the bunched britches from their crotches.

EXT. DAYTIME. EMPTY TONIC STAND.

The gang is standing, loading their pistols or checking their sights. Everyone is visibly excited. 
ERNIE
Mornin’ boys. 

EVERYONE
Mornin’ Ern (and variations thereof).

ERNIE
Y’all ready?

BOGSON
Sheeyit, you foolin’? A’ course we’s ready.

ERNIE
Yeah, it’s easy to talk hard shit but you best have your head tied on steadfast-like or Red’s liable to take it off. 

BOGSON
Hey…this is Bogson you talkin to. I ever let you down?

ERNIE
Hell yes, you have. You bin drinkin’ and fuckin’ up since your woman left ye. Almost got yer head shot off by that Mexer a month ago. You fuck up in here and consider yerself demoted.

BOGSON
Shit Ern. You know that Messican weren’t--- 

WELDON runs up to the group from the Desert Jewel Saloon.

BOGSON
Shit Weldon, you sweatin more ‘an a nigger on election day.

ERNIE
Shut the fuck up. What’s the news Weldon?

WELDON
(Breathing heavily) I just come back from the Desert Jewel and sure ‘nuff Red was in there drinkin’ by himself.

ERNIE
Where was he sitting?

WELDON
He was sat in the back corner. Twasn’t like him, but his back was to the door.

ERNIE
You see his face?

WELDON
As plain as tits.

ERNIE
He didn’t see you?

WELDON
Nope.

ERNIE
Good. That’s right fine. (He turns to the cowboys) You hear that boys?

Beat.

ERNIE
Now lets get this thing right clear. I make the first move and you boys abide by my lead. We ain’t shootin’ up the Jewel unless we have to. Reckon we’ll go in there, grab that sumbitch and string him up before sundown. You boys come in behind me and make a wall so as to block any exit. He’d be plum stupid to try an' shoot it out with all of us. (To his son) Boy, you stay out here. 

SON
Yes pa.

ERNIE
In fact, you best get behind the building over there. (He points to a trading post and we pan behind his arm to follow the action) If you hear more than a few shots, you kick hell out of here, y‘hear?

SON
Yes sir.

The BOY runs off.

ERNIE
                   You fellas ready? (He is visibly nervous. He pulls his flask and takes a swig)

DRUNKEN COWBOYS
(Variations on ‘Yes sir!’ and ‘Hell yeah!’) 

We track behind as ERNIE walks to the Desert Jewel Saloon with his shotgun in hand, the rest of the boys following behind him

INT. DAYTIME. THE DESERT JEWEL SALOON. 

The saloon is small and rundown. Smoke drapes the ceiling. Ragtag cowpokes line the bar and occasionally spit wads into spittoons at their feet. A group of roughs with long beards is playing cards. RED is sitting in the back corner by himself; we don’t see his face. ERNIE walks in.

ERNIE
Red, you sonovabitch…

RED stands up and turns around as we pan up to his face. He’s a towering, ragged son of a bitch; middle aged with weathered and cracked leather skin. His face is bedecked with a curled, protruding handlebar mustache. The only evidence that he has a mouth is the black cigarillo sticking out from under his facial hair. His eyes are small and beady and his eyebrows point up, almost curling at their points. The left side of his face is covered in leathery scar tissue with little lumps protruding out of his skin and his left eye blinks in an involuntary twitch. He spits out his cigarillo and blows two lines of smoke from his nostrils like some bull caricature.

RED
…the fuck you want?

ERNIE
You know damn well what I wa--

RED quickly PULLS his PISTOL to ERNIE’S surprise (and everyone else in the room).

ERNIE
(Scrambling to aim his gun) Sonavabitch!

ERNIE FIRES his shotgun…a HUGE flash of sparks illuminates the room…the buckshot HITS a table, causing it to SPLINTER shards everywhere…RED FIRES…but hits the wall…KUGEL FIRES his pistol…the bullet GOES WILD and STRIKES a bearded man at the table in the back of the head…The other people from the table BOLT UP and PULL pistols…they start FIRING at the group of cowboys…the cowboys return FIRE…Other patrons in the bar SCATTER like flies…Half of TILLMAN’S hand EXPLODES apart…RED ducks behind the bar…TILLMAN hits the floor SHRIEKING…RED SPRINGS up and FIRES…the bullet STRIKES KUGEL in the nose…ERNIE FIRES at RED again…SHATTERS a bottle…glass shards FLY everywhere…KUGEL hits the floor…BOGSON FIRES a pistol…one man at the table takes the HIT in the belly…RED PULLS a sawed-off double-barreled shotgun from his coat…the man with the stomach wound DROPS while spurting blood…RED FIRES his shotgun…the buckshot DESTROYS TILLMAN’S shoulder…RED cocks the other chamber…ERNIE ducks down to reload…RED FIRES…it goes wild and SHATTERS a window, sending glass shards at a bystander outside… a bearded man at the table SHOOTS at ERNIE with a pistol…ERNIE takes the hit through the cheek…the bystander outside falls on the ground SCREAMING…ERNIE hits the floor with a thud…RED ducks down…ERNIE spits out bloody teeth and flesh…RED reloads his shotgun…what’s left of the gang RUNS outside FIRING indiscriminately as SMOKE blankets the area…RED reloads his pistols and tucks them in his britches…the men at the table follow the gang while FIRING…RED jolts up…a bearded man from the table FIRES at him wildly…RED UNLOADS buckshot into his chest…ERNIE attempts to crawl outside…RED FIRES the next round at him…ERNIE’S head SPLITS APART all over the floor…two bearded men RUNNING outside get frightened…one turns to RED with his pistol aimed…but SLIPS on the bloody floor…RED pulls his pistol…FIRES…the bullet TEARS through his JAW and exits out the other side…splashing blood on his friend’s face and DRILLING into his forehead…the bearded men are dead when they hit the ground…

EXT. DAYTIME. THE MUDDY STREETS OF BABY HEAD.

Outside, we are handheld, following ERNIE’S son as he frantically runs across the sidewalk toward the shootout as gunshots echo closer and closer. We turn a corner and are overwhelmed as ERNIE’S gang and the TABLE MEN exchange fire through a haze of thick white smoke…We watch the gunfight unbroken for a good thirty seconds…soon, WELDON is THROWN back with a bullet in his chest…BOGSON aims his shotgun…WELDON hits the ground gasping for air…BOGSON FIRES…two bearded table men are STRUCK by the buckshot…their adjacent arms are SHREDDED…WELDON is still gasping for air…the two men involuntarily SPIN in opposite directions…WELDON stops breathing…two gang members are left standing, (BOGSON and WILLY) against one bearded table man...BOGSON and WILLY UNLOAD 7 rounds into him…RED walks outside, AIMS his shotgun…the bearded table man hits the ground…BOGSON and WILLY FRANTICALLY reload their pistols…RED FIRES…WILLY is THROWN BACK like he was KICKED by a mule…BOGSON throws down his gun…WILLY is GRASPING at his insides…RED cocks back the other hammer as he walks up to BOGSON…ERNIE’S son is behind the corner watching the entire thing.

BOGSON
Come on.
RED is silent.
BOGSON
Do it, you sweet son of a bitch.

RED aims his shotgun and FIRES. Smoke VOMITS forth. We see a split second of BOGSON’S face coming apart. We fix into long shot so that the action is silhouetted. BOGSON’S body LAUNCHES back like a rag doll as SMOKE engulfs his figure. We fix back to a position showing half of RED and BOGSON hitting the ground covered in blood. 
RED
Shit.

We quickly pan across town buildings as spectators watch in shocked amazement. RED casually loots each man’s corpse - taking all of the guns and ammunition he can carry.

RED
Fuckin’ town.

He gets his equipment ready, mounts his horse and leaves. The townspeople are still looking on in amazement. No one does a thing.

MONTAGE
There are separate shots of each dead man that resemble tintype photographs of corpses taken at the time. We end with a shot of ERNIE. The townsfolk finally come out to examine the carnage and viscera.  

     The BOY watches as his father’s body is drug out into the street. A photographer comes out and sets up his tripod as people prop up the corpses and have their pictures taken next to them. Married couples, children, and young lovers alike all happily line up to have their tintypes taken next to the bodies. Disgusted, the BOY mounts his horse and rides home. 

INT. DAYTIME. ERNIE’S GUN SHED.

The BOY runs in, picks up some supplies and leaves. We quickly follow. He swings the provisions over his saddle and fastens the gun scabbard. He mounts his horse, kicks it and quickly rides in the direction RED was headed. We fade out. 
    
EXT. DAYTIME. TOWN STREET DECORATED BY CORPSES. 

We pan to TOWN SHERIFF LUPO riding down the street in slow motion. He is in his mid-thirties. Immediately scores of townsfolk SURROUND him, all CLAMORING to tell him the news. 

SHERIFF LUPO
What the hell is going on here?

A short, bald man runs up to him. He walks with LUPO’s horse as he talks.

SHORT BALD MAN
Sheriff, sheriff! I seen it all go down.

SHERIFF LUPO
(Screaming) Now everyone shut the hell up! (To the bald man) Seen what go down?

SHORT BALD MAN
Red, from Llano County. While you was gone this morning, he come in to town and Ernie and his fellows started havin it out and he kilt ever’ single one a them and rode off. Ever’ single one a them.

SHERIFF LUPO
Didn’t nobody do nothing?

SHORT BALD MAN
What was we gonna’ do? You know as well as anyone we ain’t allowed to bring guns into town.

SHERIFF LUPO
Can the minstrel shit, nobody listens to that law anyhow…Where’s the bodies?

SHORT BALD MAN 
I’ll show ye.

SHERIFF LUPO dismounts and walks to the corpses, pulling the reins of his horse. We track behind. We go to a CLOSE UP on a bloody face covered in flies. We’re at eye level looking at LUPO with the grisly, propped-up corpse blurred in the foreground.

SHER. LUPO
(Angrily to himself) This will not stand.

SHORT BALD MAN
Reckon you’ll be hot on Red’s trail, he’s just left a few hours previous. 

SHER. LUPO
(Ignoring the bald man and addressing the townsfolk) Alright, you’ve gawked quite enough. Git these here bodies in the ground. Now!

INT. DAYTIME. A SMALL HOUSE LIT BY CANDLES.

CLOSE UP on an infant’s face while he breast feeds. We see the mother. Young, buxom, and tired. She has a smooth, clean face, but her eyes are wrinkled and heavy. Off-frame we hear a door squeaking. We go to the door where SHERIFF LUPO is standing. 

MOTHER
Hey you’re home! How was it?

SHERIFF LUPO
T’was a fine trip, honey. 

MOTHER
Tell me all about it. Did you get all of the taxes you needed? Did Hollister give you trouble again? While you were away I had my tintype taken with Humphrey. (To her breastfeeding son) Isn’t that right? 

SHERIFF LUPO takes a shotgun off of a wall and begins to load it.
  
MOTHER
What’re you doin? (Somewhat frightened) Is someone givin’ you trouble? Is it Harold and the Lockheed boys again? Does this have something to do with those shots I heard? 

SHERIFF LUPO is now loading a pistol. His head is down turned and his eyes soon look up to face his wife and child. We see his POV of his beautiful, buxom wife, her large breast exposed, and his small son, suckling at it. They’re a vision of immense beauty bathed in orange candle light. 

SHERIFF LUPO
Nah. No trouble.

He walks over to his wife, kisses her, and kisses his son’s forehead.

SHERIFF LUPO
I’ll be back.

He leaves with his shotgun in hand.

EXT. TOWN STREET. AFTERNOON 

A long shot on SHERIFF LUPO walking from the left side of the frame to the right with a shotgun in hand and people looking on, speculating what he’s going to do. The sun is rapidly decreasing in the distance. 
Close-up on a sign reading “BIG BULL SALOON” but it has been carved to say “BIG BULLSHIT SALOON”. Piano music, screams, and hollers are heard. We get a long look at the saloon while SHERIFF LUPO walks in.

INT. BIG BULLSHIT SALOON. NIGHT.

SHER. LUPO enters through the twin doors. We go to his POV. The whole place seems assembled out of wood. A bartender has his arms spread out across the wooden bar, a glass mug sits next to his left hand, and in the glass rests a pistol for easy access. A wooden shelf rests at eye level with 20 or so bottles lined upon it. At the bar a grizzled, old cowboy sits crying with a shot glass in one hand and a pistol in the other. His friend is trying to comfort him. 
GRIZZLED, OLD COWBOY
That’s it *sniff* I don’t even give a shit no more. I’m ‘a kill that motherfucker.

FRIEND
Forget the bitch and her pigshit man. Whore gave you the clap anyhow. She kin give it to him now. Spread her kinda’ “love” around.

GRIZZLED, OLD COWBOY
Naw, I don’t care. I’m ‘a kill that motherfucker tomorrow.

SHER. LUPO
I hear that right Missouri?

FRIEND
Oh, uh…sheriff…he don’t mean nothin’ by it. He’s a little drunk.

GRIZZLED, OLD COWBOY
I’m a little drunk.

FRIEND
He’s a little drunk.

SHER. LUPO
Well make sure he don’t go drunkenly shooting down folks.

FRIEND
He won’t. I’ll make sure of it.

GRIZZLED, OLD COWBOY
He’ll make sure of it.

FRIEND
I’ll make sure of it.

SHER. LUPO
Good. Now you boys best get the hell home before I book him on public drunkenness.

FRIEND
Yessir. Obliged.

They leave as SHER. LUPO surveys the rest of the bar. At the right edge sits an old barrel, and next to it is a massive figure with his back turned. He’s wearing a wide-brimmed hat pinned in the front, and long black locks travel down his back. 

SHER. LUPO
Georgia?

We go to a CLOSE-UP on the face of the man with his back turned. His name is GEORGIA SAM. He has a long, black handlebar mustache slightly braided at the ends. His eyes open once his name is called.

GEORGIA SAM
Huh? (He turns around)

SHER. LUPO 
You the tracker?

GEORGIA SAM
Might be.
 
SHER. LUPO
Well might be I got work for you.

GEORGIA SAM
You do now? (Yells off screen) Turn that piany shit off!

Piano music stops.

SHER. LUPO 
(Pulling out a chair to sit down) That depends, are you the tracker?

GEORGIA SAM
Are niggers fond of corn likker? Course I’m the goddamn tracker. I look like a square head carpetbagger? 

SHER. LUPO
You know, I can call all of this shit off.

GEORGIA SAM
Now I wouldn’t want that…Does this “work” have to do with that shootin earlier? 

SHER. LUPO
You heard?

GEORGIA SAM
Ain’t deaf. ‘Twas a derned thunderstorm of a fight.

SHER. LUPO
You know of Red from Llano?

GEORGIA SAM
Sure as shit.

SHER. LUPO
Well, he got himself drunk and started himself a massacre that left about a dozen dead. 

GEORGIA SAM
Ornery sumbitch ain’t he? (He takes a drink) Most men’s lucky to throw down half that in a lifetime.

SHER.LUPO
Yeah…well, in addition to this latest…“offence” he’s a mountain of other crimes too. 

GEORGIA SAM
I know all the shit he done. I known him a while.

SHER. LUPO
You still friendly with him?

GEORGIA SAM
Alright, let’s cut the bullshit. I’ll track the son of a bitch, but I’ll need provision money, for myself and five other boys. Once we bring him in I’ll expect a sum of $300 for myself and $100 for each of my fellas. (He points to 5 men standing at the right of the bar). No hogshit bargaining, no delayed fucking pay, and I’d prefer if I can have my share in coins.

SHER. LUPO
Anything you so wish. Now I’ll pay for your possibles, and I’ll scrape up the rest from the townsfolk and county by the time you come back. Sufficient?

GEORGIA SAM
Yeah. 

SHER. LUPO
You’ll need to come with me so as to get yourself an idea of the direction Red was headed.

GEORGIA SAM
Alright. (To his men) Come on fellers, we’ve got ourselves some work.

They all hoot and holler.

INT. HOTEL ROOM. NIGHT. A voluptuous woman named MARILYN is in a slip taking some absinthe. GEORGIA SAM enters, removes his hat and holds it at his waist as if he were an embarrassed schoolboy.

MARILYN
G’day Georgia.

GEORGIA SAM
I’ll be…leavin you Marilyn. 

MARILYN
(Her eyes are wide open. She does a few heavy blinks) How long?

GEORGIA SAM
As need be…I’m sorry.

MARILYN
I understand.

GEORGIA SAM
I knew you would. I’ll make a lot of wages so you kin pay for your…medicine…You want to…(he strokes the brim of his hat)

MARILYN
Alright. You better come back with some cash. And not that paper shit. Some gold.

GEORGIA SAM
That I’ll do.

MARILYN slips off her nightgown.
MARILYN
That’s better.

3 KNOCKS are heard on the door.

V.O.
Come on, we best get goin!

GEORGIA SAM
God-damn it.

EXT. THICKLY FORRESTED AREA. NIGHT.

RED has set up camp and is fast asleep. The BOY rides up to his camp, dismounts and stretches his legs. He throws out his blanket roll and starts to sleep.
     
Black frame. 
 RED (V.O.)
…the hell you doin’ boy?
     
The shot opens on RED silhouetted by the sun. It’s a blinding image. We cut to the BOY waking up. RED kicks him hard in the gut, but not too hard.

RED
I said what in hell you doin’ you lil’ sumbtich?

BOY
I…I…I 

RED
Spit it out ‘fore I unload.

BOY
I’m sorry.

RED
That’s what you’re gonna be you stupid son of a bitch. What in the fuck you doin’ here?

BOY
Well I was…I was figgerin’ I could (swallows a lump in his throat) ride along on your trek.
    
A crooked smile forms under RED’s mustache.

RED
…the hell you say boy?

BOY
I was figgerin’ I could ride with you

RED
Ride with me? I’ll give you a ride on the tip of my boot you brainless lil’ bastard.

BOY
Huh?

RED
You one stupid sumbitch ain’t ya?

The BOY attempts to answer.

RED
You know who I am?

BOY
Yeah, you’re Red from Texas.

RED
Now why in hell you want to ride with me?

BOY
Ain’t got nothin’ else t’do.

RED
Ain’t got nothing else to do? (Laughs a bit) Shit, yer a one-man minstrel. I’ll give you that.

BOY
Huh?

RED
You ain’t got no family? 

BOY
Ma’s bin’ dead for a while now and you killed my pa day past.

Beat. RED cannot believe what he’s hearing

RED
 And you still wanna’ ride with me?

BOY
I got no love for my pa. Beat hell into my ma and siblings and me. Reckon he got what Jesus wanted him to get.

RED
(Slightly laughing) Damn boy…you’re a cold fucker.

Beat.

RED
 You packed all your possibles?

BOY
Yeah.

RED
Food, water, flea wrap…

BOY
I got it all.

Beat.

RED 
You best be able to keep up, cause it’s gonna be a hard ride. Git your shit mounted.

BOY
Yes sir!    

The BOY excitedly runs to get his provisions. RED sets up his horse and mounts it. A long shot fixes on RED slowly riding away. 

EXT. HEAVILY FORESTED AREA. MORNING. 

CLOSE UP on GEORGIA SAM’S weathered face with a cigarillo sticking out. We move to show only the left side of his face, with his five men sat upon horses in the background. They are filthy and grisly. Each is covered in skins and heavy coats. Their names are: BILLY GOODWATER (the youngest of the group), ‘MULE SKINNER’ HERB (a towering, hard-ass mountain man), FREDERICK LONGFINGERS (lanky and odd-looking. He has a tintype of himself tied around his neck), RANDAL THRICE (average build, with a shaved head), and JOHNNY ‘THE MONGREL’ (a half-breed Chinaman who does not speak).

MULE SKUINNER
Red’s been here.

GEORGIA SAM
Looks like (takes a drag from his cigarillo)
They start riding.
FRED 
He really from Ireland like they say?

GEORGIA SAM
I’d think so.

RANDAL
Yeah, he is.

FRED
A goddamned Irishman.

GEORGIA SAM
A soon-to-be-dead, goddamned Irishman.

FRED
Took out a whole saloon of cowpunchers…goddamn. Ern weren’t no slouch neither. He could shoot the short and curlies off an Injun’s skin sack.

RANDAL
Of what I know, he and his boys were slippin’ real bad. You ask me it was when they let that nigger ride with them. ‘Member when he raped that gal and Ern had to shoot him down?

FRED
Never heard about that. 

RANDAL
Ern never liked no rape shit.

MULE SKINNER
Alright boys lets keep it quiet fer now. We ain’t certain where this Red bastard is. He could have the bead on each of you sumbitches.

GEORGIA SAM
Herb’s right. Let’s keep it low. 

They all ride closer to us until each one passes. 

EXT: GRASSLANDS. MORNING. 

RED and the BOY are on their horses, riding side by side.
 
RED
You sure you ain’t got no family? Don’t want to have some wild uncle a’ yours huntin’ my hide down with some scattershot. 

BOY
No sir. I ain’t got no other ties, ‘cept to my siblings, and they’s all too young to do nothing. 

Beat.

RED
What’s your name, boy?

BOY
Name’s Cob.

RED
What was that now?

BOY
Cob.

RED
Shit boy, you gonna’ have to speak up. My hearin’ ain’t so good no more.

BOY 
Name’s Cob! 

RED
Cob. (He thinks about it for a second) S’a good enough name, I reckon. What’s your last name?

BOY (COB)
Harris.

RED
What was your parents called?

COB
Ernest and Ethel
RED gets quiet.

COB
You knew them, huh?

RED
Not particularly. Yer pa and me had some trouble...as you damn well know. Knew yer ma ‘fore she was married. Nice gal she was…How’d she expire?

COB 
Somethin’ wrong with her blood I guess. Don’t know much more ‘an that.

RED
S’a fucking pity.

Beat.

COB
Red…

RED
(Spits some tobacco) Yeah…

COB
Reckon you teach me how to be a shootist? 

RED
(A devilish smile overcomes his face) Well shit boy, I was waitin’ for you to spit that out.

COB
Will ye? 

RED
(He spits) Damn right I will, but you best be ready, ‘cuz it‘s an ugly, terrible life.

A crooked smile engulfs COB’s face. At this point they’ve left the grasslands and are coming upon the prairie.

RED
First off is some questions. 

COB
Alri…

RED
Shut up.
COB gets quiet

RED
A good shootist knows how to listen and hear. Now I ain’t hear so well no more on account a the constant sound a gunfire ringing in my ears, but when you in the thick of it, hearin’s more important than seeing, cuz the smoke from yer guns gonna’ blind you anyhow. When you fire a gun it shakes up your head sumthin’ fierce and it takes a good killer to ignore it. Y’ever fired a weapon?

COB
Yessir, I shot a…

RED
Good. Y’ever shot it at anything moving?

COB
I shot a Mexer. 

Beat

RED
Shittin me?

COB
No sir. Happened when me an’ pa trekked to New Messico so as to trade some cattle a relative left him with. 

RED
Serious?

COB
Yeah. M’pa never seen it. He was tradin’ with a feller he knew down there while I was stayin’ by a pond. He left his pistol belt with me as it was unlawful to carry one into town and I came upon a Mexer fillin’ a water pouch. Don’t know why I shot ‘im. Jus’ wondered what it’d seem like I guess. Reckon no one’id care for a Mexer but it made the Gazette the next day. T’ain’t like it is up here. Lotta’ Mexer’s down there…Nobody ever knew I’d done it though.

RED
Sheeyit…that’s cold. (He lets out a slight, bewildered laugh) That’s fuckin cold.

Beat.
RED
 Well damn boy, shootists can’t just go walkin ‘round killin’ folks for no reason. S’good that you got the sand to plug a fella’ but if you plug everyone you don’t fancy you be dead in a week. We ain’t all Wes Hardin.

Beat.
RED
Your ass made outta’ leather?  

COB
(Shocked and perplexed) Pardon?

RED
You got the Rider’s Callus on your ass? (COB is still confused) You used to a lot a’ ridin’?

COB
Oh…uh…Yessir!

RED
Good. You gonna’ need to be quick on a horse and used to ridin it. Never know when you’ll have to kick hell to git your ass outta town. (He looks around) Sun’s goin’ down. Figger this’s a good place to set up camp for the night. Go gather up some cowshit.

COB
Fer what?

RED
A fire, you peckerwood. ‘Chu think we’s gonna eat it?

COB
Naw. Course not.

EXT. THE FOREST. AFTERNOON

GEORGIA SAM and his toughs are leaving the forest and have come upon the grasslands. The sun is retreating.

RANDAL
You know, I ran into Red once. Was chugging whiskey like an Irishman.                      

FRED
Him or you?

RANDAL
Both of us. What’d you think?

They all laugh through broken, brown teeth, with the exception of ‘MULE SKINNER’ who is surveying the land and ‘MONGREL’ JOHNNY who can only smile. They’ve all heard variations on that joke a thousand times.

RANDAL
Anyhow, Red was tryin to get some free pussy from a fresh whore.

BILLY
What she look like? Big titties?

RANDAL
Biggest you ever seen. I’d had her before. Fine gal. Flapjack nipples.

BILLY
(Giggling) Oh man! 

RANDAL
You could rest your head ‘cross them like they was huge pillows.

BILLY
Hot damn! I gotta’ git me a woman like that! She hefty?

RANDAL
Not too much. Huge ass, hips like an ax handle lengthwise. Otherwise, she were in the middle.

BILLY
Just the way I like it.

FRED
Go on with the story.

RANDAL
So anyway, she weren’t havin it. “Twelve dollars is all I’ll go to.” she says. But he had his drive up you see, so he was gonna take her out back and have himself one anyway…s’far as I could tell anyhow. So he’s pullin’ her by the arm and her white clad pimp just walks up an’ puts two barrels to his face. Just right in his eyes. Red jus’ about shit his pants. It got so dern quiet you could hear a rat pissin on cotton. No one knew what in the hell was gonna’ happen next. We all reckoned Red was as jumpy as a Comanch on an anthill, n’ liable to draw his pistols no matter what the odds. Then the pimp tells him to git the fuck out. 

FRED
He leave?

RANDAL
Hell yeah. Guess Red weren’t as jumpy that day, cause he left with his pecker swinging in the breeze like a dog with his tale between his legs (The men all laugh) T’wasn’t but the next day that I hear that the pimp was shot in the head while sittin in the shitter and Red had skipped town.

FRED 
Where’d all this happen?

RANDAL
Shit. Don’t recollect. T’was a boom town. It disappeared a year later. Sheepskin maybe?

BILLY
I bin to Sheepskin. Nice place. Good whores.

FRED
You know how to spin a yarn Randal. I’ll give you that. 

RANDAL
I’d author a penny dreadful if’n I knew how to write.

MULE SKINNER
Will you sumbtiches shut the fuck up?

He rides up to GEORGIA SAM’s mount.

MULE SKINNER
You best tell these boys to shut their mouths ‘fore I knock their teeth out.

FRED
Come on Herb. Try’n knock my teeth out. Put that iron heel right in my mouth.

MULE SKINNER
Don’t tempt a sinner. 

FRED
Come on. Lay me the hell out you burly bastard.

GEORGIA SAM
(Ignoring the in-fighting) Hey Herb, you want to set up camp? 

MULE SKINNER
No. We’re gonna’ need to ride through the night. Only way we’ll catch up. 

GEORGIA SAM
Sheeyit. 

FRED rides to the left of MULE SKINNER HERB. 

FRED
Just try and fry up some shit with me. Just try, god-damn-it.

MULE SKINNER ignores him and rides ahead. 

EXT. THE PRAIRIE. NIGHTTIME. 

RED and COB have started a campfire and are covered in orange light contorting over their figures.

COB
Red…

RED
Yes?

COB
Why you got them bumps on the side a’ yer face?

RED
(Laughing slightly) You’re a prying scalawag ain’t ye?

COB
Well I…

RED
No need to answer that, boy. (He takes a swig of whiskey) I’ll tell ye…Years back I was hidin out in Oklahoma country, y’know Injun territry…well I was hidin’ up there for some offence I’d done. Don’t recall what it was. Shit. Can’t recollect. Anyhow, a bounty posse was up on my trail and sure nuff they found me. One them fellers was an Injun while the other two was niggers. One a’ them niggers was itchin not to get hisself dead and I don’t blame the sumbitch. First moment he lays eyes on me he spits out a load of buckshot in the side a’ my head. Knocked my ass clear on the ground. That’s how I got deaf in my left ear here. I’s still awake, but dizzy as an Injun on gut rot. (Laughing slightly) Hell. I ran off as they were spittin out more bullets my way and I stayed up in them hills for weeks with them pellets stuck in my face. Skin just scarred over them I guess. (Pause) Makes it easy for folks to identify me right close, but it gave me enough reputation so few’ll fuck with me. I mean, would you fuck with a man survived a shotgun blast to the head?

COB
Guess not.

RED
Damn right, you guess not. You god-damn right. 

Beat.
RED
Life’s funny that way. A feller gets plugged in the face by a shotgun and lives, while another feller gets a derringer pellet in his leg and dies from some kinda’ infection. Sheeyit, it’s all about the sand in a man. You got the sand to live, you gonna fuckin’ live.

COB
Why you cuss so much? After my ma died my pa started in with cussin. Preacher says that the mouth defiles a man.

RED
Shit, the pecker defiles a man. Mine’s defiled many a woman too. Heh heh.

COB
Huh?

RED
Shit boy, you don’t understand none a my humor. How old are you?

COB
Twelve years. How old are you?

RED
Well that’s a good question. Don’t really recall, myself. Older than dried shit and twice as pungent I guess. Old Creed Taylor used to say that. Funny, huh?

COB
Guess so.

RED
Upset about my cussin. Shit, I ain’t never shot a Messican that didn’t deserve it…like a certain boy I know. Reckon God worries more bout a lil boy blassin away a poor ole Messican then a crusty ol bastard like me usin swears. Sheeyit. What’s God care if I got a mouth like an outhouse seat?

The BOY doesn’t say anything. 
RED
Y’ever been to Messico?

COB
No…s’at where we’re goin’?

 RED
Nope. We goin’ to plains country. Pass through Injun territry--

COB
Okleehoma territory?

RED
Yeah. Then we go down to one them farmin’ states and look for work from a beef baron.

COB
We gonna’ be cowboys?

RED
Hell no. We gonna’ get assassin work. The barons got bad blood with freegrazin’ sumbitches and sheepherders. Could use some hired guns, I reckon.

COB
M’pa never liked them beef barons. Says they steal and murder decent folk. One a’ them tried to swindle him in New Messico. Said they was cattle kings sittin at their thrones orderin folks to be executed and such.

RED
Yeah, well, kings pay good. 

BLACK FRAME. We can’t see what is happening. Suddenly, we see a spark and soon a fire rages over some cowshit. GEORGIA SAM and his bounty hunters are all camping.

MULE SKINNER
We should be on the ride. I kin almost smell him. 

FRED
No doubt he kin smell yer pungent ass.

GEORGIA SAM
If we don’t get some rest we’ll be about as effective up against Red as a farmer milkin a bull.

MULE SKINNER
…the fuck that mean?

FRED
It means it won’t work you dumb-ass, mountain-dwellin’ bastard. You best go back to humpin goats you stupid shit, cuz you ain’t no use to us. 

GEORGIA SAM
Fellas, calm yourselves down. No need for this squabbling.

FRED
This sumbitch been ridin my ass for some time now.

MULE SKINNER
Only thing bin ridin yer ass was that feller you fucked when you was put away in Yuma.

FRED
(Throwing down a canteen) Son of a fucking bitch! That’s it! 

FRED bolts up and pulls a pistol. Quickly, GEORGIA SAM follows his action and grabs the pistol’s hammer. 
GEORGIA SAM
Give me that pistol before I break your plough handle hand.

FRED stares at him with his teeth gritted and murder in his eyes. He lets go of the pistol.

FRED
Son of a bitch!

GEORGIA SAM
Now you pigfuckers better settle this shit right good. You want to act like Messicans and shoot it out, you go out in the god-damn prairie and shoot it out. You want to act like white men and git paid good fuckin’ wages, you keep your bitchin’ to your lonesome.

Beat.
RANDAL
Let’s get on more peaceful subjects. I got some tintype copies of some fine whores in Llano’s red lantern district. (He pulls the pictures out) Ya’ll should see these. (He passes them around) 

Beat.

RANDAL
Speaking of pictures…Fred, is it true that you wear that tintype so that when you pass on, people will know who you were?

There’s no answer. Everyone seems to ignore him. 

RANDAL
Well?
A smile flashes across FRED’s face.
FRED
Naw…I wear it so HERB’s mother’ll know who’s layin her out fer once.

He starts cackling, but no one else seems to be laughing. MULE SKINNER starts walking toward him, but FRED isn’t paying any attention, he’s still laughing. MULE SKINNER pulls a makeshift hatchet and SWIPES FRED’s head OFF with ease and then TOSSES it into the fire where it sizzles. The men watch silently. MULE SKINNER takes FRED’s tintype from the head stump and puts it around his neck. He returns to his flea wrap bed roll and goes to sleep. The rest of the men do the same as if they haven’t just seen a man get his head chopped off.

MONTAGE

Various shots of RED and COB riding their horses. Eating at camp. Sleeping. Visiting trade posts. GEORGIA SAM and his men do the same. Typical travel montage shit.  

EXT. PRAIRIE. DAYTIME. We see a long shot of the barren, flat terrain. A small shack surrounded by a few crops sits like a blemish on the earth. RED and COB converge upon it from both sides of the frame. 

RED
This looks like it.

COB
Like what? That ain’t no beef baron’s place.

RED
Of course not. It’s my brother’s soddie.

COB squints his eyes in confusion.
RED
Come on.

They ride to the shack as we track behind and get a closer look. It’s constructed out of sod bricks with blades of grass blanketing the roof, and elk horns sitting above the door. Stalks of corn and walls of Turkey Red wheat surround it. There’s a small picket fence, chicken pens, and a pile of bones and antlers. RED’s brother CHARLES walks outside. His hair is thinning, and his face is chiseled. He’s wearing an old dress shirt stained brown with the sleeves rolled up. A considerably younger woman named NADINE stands in the doorway with a toddler in her arms.

CHARLES
What do you boys want?

CHARLES’ POV: Two silhouetted figures on horses are in the distance.

CHARLES
You gonna’ tell me?

The two figures come closer until we can see their faces. We focus on RED.

CHARLES
Percy? Is that you?

COB
(Whispering to RED) Percy?

RED
(Whispering) Shut the fuck up. (To Charles) It might just be Percy.

CHARLES
Now what pray tell has brought you down my way?

RED
Well, I’ve been hired by a cattle outfit to oversee a long drive across country. On the way over I decided to pay a visit to my good brother.

CHARLES
 Well, I’ll be…I never knew you’d had the knack for cattle work…How long has it been since we last seen each other?

RED
Right when you first built this place...around the time of the Homestead Act as I recall. 

CHARLES
That makes it about 15 years…and who is this strapping lad?

COB
My name is Cob

CHARLES
He your son?

RED
Yeah.

CHARLES
I never knew you was married…and with a boy!

RED
Yeah, his ma passed years ago.

CHARLES
That’s a shame. Rosa passed too. A good 7 years now. She’s buried out back.

RED
I’m sorry to hear that.

CHARLES
Yeah, the Lord does His will and you’ll be derned to try an’ understand it. But I guess that’s where your faith has to kick in. She had TB. I made a trip into town for a week and when I came back she’d gone to Jesus. She’d been sick for a while…but He giveth and He taketh away. I remarried 3 years back to Nadine over there. (To Nadine) C’mere girl.

NADINE walks over with the child.
RED
Pleased to make your acquaintance.

NADINE
Likewise.

COB
Evening ma’am. 

NADINE
Evening good sir.

CHARLES
This little guy in her arms here is Jeremiah (he picks him up). So I lost Rosa, but was blessed with a comely lass and a strapping boy.

RED
He’s a handsome lad. Don’t take after his father none.

CHARLES 
Oh-ho-ho. Come on inside you carpetbagger. You can take your horses to the hitching post behind the soddie.

INT. SODDIE. NIGHTIME. We are orange-lit by a lantern. The four of them are sat at a table, eating. The toddler sleeps.

RED
This is some damn fine food...pardon my tongue.

CHARLES
It’s alright, I’ve got my habits too…ain’t that right Nadine? 

She smiles uncomfortably.

CHARLES
So how long are you going to be lodging here?

RED
Only till tomorrow. Then we’ll be off.

CHARLES
Aw…that’s unfortunate. I thought you’d stay for at least a week. We’ve a few lean-tos in the back if’n that’s where you’d like to sleep.

RED
Sure beats a flea wrap on the prairie floor.

CHARLES
Good, good.
Beat.
CHARLES
Y’know, I seen the wildest thing the other day.

RED
Go on.

CHARLES
I seen a house on wheels bein’ pulled by oxen.

RED
Really?

CHARLES
Yup. Moving across the land. Damndest …derndest thing I ever seen. First I thought what on earth would cause someone to carry ‘round a house with oxen? Then I reckoned it was that real estate outfit.

RED
What about it?

CHARLES
Well, the government give us these lands as long as we build a house and work it on account of the Homestead Act. Now occasionally they send out inspectors to make sure a house is built and such. So, if’n a real estate biness puts some folks on some land with a home and such then they get to claim the land. 

RED
Quite a scheme.

CHARLES 
Sure is. People’re so dishonest these days. Not like when we was young. 

RED
There’s always been dishonest folk.

CHARLES
Yeah…reckon you’re correct.

EXT. SODDIE. NIGHT. COB is asleep on a lean-to. The one next to him is empty.

INT. SODDIE. NIGHT. RED and CHARLES are still at the table.

RED
…and Jim was just standin there soakin wet. Looked like a derned cat.

CHARLES
Alright Percy, I didn’t want to say this in front of your boy or my wife, but you best cut out the shit with me. 

RED
What’do you…

CHARLES
I’m not a mule-humpin’ Messican. I know damn well you ain’t overseein’ no drives. Who are you runnin from?

RED
I ain’t runnin from shit. 

CHARLES
The hell did you do this time? More killins?  Some more rapes? 

RED
You best stand down.

CHARLES
You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your ass down when I saw you comin. Reckon that’s what I should have done. I must got rocks in my head lettin you in here ‘round my wife. Tell me somethin’…do you take your boy with you on your rapin and murderin sprees?

RED quietly walks outside.
CHARLES
Yeah…leave. Don’t think about what’chu you done. You damned coward.

EXT. SODDIE. NIGHT. COB is asleep.
RED
Come on boy (he kicks COB)

COB
(Startled) Huh…what?

RED
We’re getting the hell outta’ here.

COB
What…why?

RED
Come the fuck on!

RED quickly mounts while COB is still groggy.  They leave.

EXT. PRAIRIE. EARLY MORNING. The moon is still out. COB is visibly tired.

COB
*Yawn!* Why we leavin?

RED
I didn’t want to inconvenience my brother no more. And you never know, someone might could be on our trail, and I wouldn’t want my brother and his wife to reap my consequences.

COB
You seemed up-*yawn!*-set.

RED
T’wasn’t upset. I’s just nervous for my kinfolk. Now kick hell.

EXT. MORNING. We are ground level panning with horse hoofs. Soon we pan up to reveal GEORGIA SAM and his men riding to CHARLES’ soddie. CHARLES walks out his front door.
CHARLES
Can I help you gentlemen?

GEORGIA SAM
Yeah, we’re lookin for a fella. Go by Texas Red, or Llano Red, or Irish Red. 

CHARLES
Ain’t seen him.

MULESKINNER HERB
(Whispering in GEORGIA SAM’s ear) He’s lyin’…Red’s been here.

GEORGIA SAM
(To CHARLES) Have you had any visitors in the last few days?

CHARLES
Naw, don’t get much company around here…You boys care for a drink or a bite?

BILLY
I’ll take a drink.

CHARLES
Whiskey, buttermilk, or well water?

BILLY
Whiskey sounds right fine.

CHARLES
I’ll go get it.

CHARLES walks inside of his soddie.

MULESKINNER HERB
(Whisper) Red’s been here. See them tracks there? The wind ain’t even taken them yet.

GEORGIA SAM
Fine, we’ll be right on him.

INT. SODDIE. DAY. CHARLES looks out his window to see MULESKINNER pointing in the direction RED went. CHARLES suddenly produces a pistol and FIRES through the window, SHATTERING the glass. The shot goes wild. NADINE starts screaming, JEREMIAH is whaling. The bounty hunters all pull guns and RIDDLE the soddie. 

LONG SHOT: Smoke blankets the area. The bounty hunters run inside the soddie and we hear the faint sound of gunshots. 

INT. SODDIE. DAY. CHARLES is riddled with bullets and soaked in blood. NADINE and JEREMIAH are shrieking. 

RANDAL
How ‘bout his woman?

GEORGIA SAM
Leave her be.

RANDAL
No…you know?

GEORGIA SAM
Do it fast.

MULESKINNER HERB
We ain’t got time.

GEORGIA SAM
These men need some relief if they’re gonna’ function. 

Everything goes black. When the shot reopens we see GEORGIA SAM and his toughs riding away from the soddie and we hear the cries of JEREMIAH. 

EXT. PRAIRIE. DAY. 
Long shot. We see the silhouette of RED and COB riding horses across barren land. A series of cuts gradually lead to medium shots on the two riders. COB is practicing drawing his pistol. 
RED
See that sign?

COB
Yeah.

SIGN
‘THE LAND OF NOD’
Many men have come cross here
Looking for gold n riches
Laffing hardy n drinkin beer
Now they dead sons a bitches

RED
This here is Injun country.

COB
Don’t look no different from every other place we been.

RED
Hell no, it don’t look no different. It’ll just feel a whole hell of a lot different when you git an arrow shoved up your pecker. Just keep your eyes open and stop fuckin ‘round with that pistol.

COB holsters his weapon and they continue riding. We see the silhouette of a figure in the distance. 

RED
Now who the hell is this (he puts his hand to his pistol)

We hear the man’s voice in the distance.

MAN
Welcome travelers!

RED
(Shouting) Why don’t you put up your limbs so we’s can see ‘em.

MAN
Fine. Fine.

We see the man. His form is thin and ragged. His lanky arms are held over his head. His face is scarred and pink. A mule follows him.

MAN
Welcome to Sodom. 

RED
That what they call this place?

MAN
That’s what it is. Savages all about this flat country. And not just the injuns neither. White men too. Murdering, thieving, sodomizing the living and dead alike. I’d advise you and your son to turn around.

We see COB gulping.

RED
Well that ain’t happ’nin.

MAN
God has forsook this cursed earth. Shan’t stand much longer this way. The Christ is on His way to reclaim it.
RED
That’s right fine with me. He kin have it.

MAN
Y’ain’t a religious man are ye?

RED
Not particularly.

MAN
You venture through this country, and you will be.

Beat.

RED
The hell you still doin’ here then?

MAN
Oh, I’m getting out. Had a trading post over yonder for a while now. Made good wages too. But I can’t take the vice and inquity what goes on in here. No sir. You and your son are welcome to come along with me.

RED
I don’t think so.

MAN
Good luck on your travels then.

RED
Yeah.

EXT. PRAIRIE. DAY.
RED and COB ride through flat country strewn out with the white bones of rotting buffalo carcasses, some still with their hide and flesh. Flies buzz about. A few dead trees have crows latently resting upon them. A small encampment of tents is in the distance with a firepit giving off black trails of smoke. 
RED and COB ride to it and stop. 3 buffalo hunters are making coffee over a fire.

CREEK MANEET
G’afternoon boys. Ya’ll in need of sumpin? 
  
RED
Might could use some water for our pouches.

CREEK MANEET
Fine, fine. M’name’s Nate Maneet. Go by Creek Maneet mostly though.

RED
M’name’s J.R. Manning. This here’s my son…Cob.

CREEK MANEET
Ya’ll want some chicory to sip on? We got some over the fire right now.

RED
Naw. Water’ll do.

CREEK MANEET
Suit yerself…Tell you the truth we’s just glad to see some whitefolk. Sheeyit, don’t know what the Lord was thinkin’ when he made the reds, I tell you that.

RED
Y’fellows prospering with your fur trade?

CREEK MANEET
We do fine. These damned animals don’t know what in hell hits ‘em. They just stand around and get shot down one after the other. Sheeyit, make trackin easy as courtin’ a two-bit whore.

RED
M’daddy was a tracker. Used to catch beaver for their pelts. Y’know, for them hats. Made a good living.

CREEK MANEET
That they did, but hell, buffalo huntin’s a damn sight easier. I’ll tell you that. Only thing is the loneliness. Now sure, I got my fellers with me and that’s right good, but I tell you sumpin…I ain’t seen a woman for a month. A damn month.

RED
I couldn’t do it. 

CREEK MANEET
Don’t want to talk raw in front of your son, but if I’s starvin’ and I’s had the choice between a choice steak and a pair a’ teets, I’d take the teets. 

Everyone starts laughing. 
CREEK MANEET
I tell you that! I’d bury my face right in ‘em! Har Har! (He shakes his head as if between a pair of breasts)

The laughter continues.
CREEK MANEET
Goddamn I gots to get me a woman. Sheeyit. I’ll take any too. Nigras, Messicans, Chinese, Injuns. Fat as hell, skinny as hell. Sheeyit, I’d even lay out that girl what got gangrene and had her legs sawed off. ‘Member her Greg?

GREG’S too busy laughing his ass off to answer.

CREEK MANEET
I’d grab ‘em an kiss ‘em and lay ‘em out…(he physically acts out all of this)

RED starts to leave.

CREEK MANEET
You boys ain’t stayin’? 

RED
Naw, we must be movin on. Obliged for the water.

CREEK MANEET
Y’all keep your eyes open. Many a white man has been dropped out here. Don’t dilly-dally around, just press on, and be ‘ware of any boy you come across. I tell you that much.

RED
Obliged. 

CREEK MANEET
Certainly…watch yerself now.

CREEK goes back to acting out love-making for his friends.

EXT. PRAIRIE. DAY.
As RED and COB ride further they come upon a wagon, shredded and broken. Three corpses lay strewn out and stripped, arrows and bullet holes decorating their purple forms. We slowly pan across the first body.  It’s a man no older than 30 with his scalp missing. We go back to RED and COB surveying the viscera. We go back to the pan, where a mother, no older than 17, is frozen with her blank eyes facing the sun but not looking at it. She is also scalped. We go back to RED and COB. COB is visibly sick by the viscera. We go back to the pan, where an infant is laying face down in the grass. It didn’t have enough hair to constitute a scalping.

RED
You want to bury them?

COB stays silent.
RED
You can’t take this shit, you best turn back right now. Ain’t having weak stomachs ridin with me.

COB
We should just leave.

RED
You sure?

COB
Yeah.

RED
We’re leavin’ then.

They ride off. They traverse silently for a while.

RED
You know, figger that’s how the town of Baby Head got its name.

COB
What?

RED
Baby Head. 

COB
I thought it was named after the Baby Head Mountain.

RED
Yeah, you dumb shit, but where do you think they got that name from? 

COB
Never thought of it none.

RED
Creed Taylor told me the story. Some religious settlers went up to Baby Head years back. Then some Comanche bastards come up and slaughter them all. Goddamn savages. They raped the women and men…Comanche’ll fuck a rattle snake nest, if his urge is up. Cut off the fellers’ peckers, the women’s teets. Left a child’s head mounted on a spear. Kind of a warnin to any more white folk…Didn’t work none though. A posse was formed from adjacent towns and they soon went up in them hills and laid to waste any of them red niggers. Whatchu think about that?

COB
I don’t.

EXT. PRAIRIE. DAYTIME.

GEORGIA SAM
Git your pieces ready fellas, we’re comin into injun territ’ry.

Montage of close ups on each hand resting on their saddled weapons.

BILLY
My cousin ventured into injun country before. Never seen him again. 

GEORGIA SAM
Thanks for the yarn, but lets keep our heads. 

BILLY
Fuck that. I want to keep my hair, and my vitals, and my pecker. No one ever said nothin’ about injun country.

GEORGIA SAM
Herb says that this is where Red has ventured so this is where we’s goin.

BILLY
I don’t like this.

GEORGIA SAM
You want to desert this troupe you chicken shit hick?

BILLY
Didn’t say nothin’ about desertin. 

GEORGIA SAM
Then shut the goddamned hell up.

They ride on. Soon, they come upon the mutilated family.

BILLY
Oh goddamn…(he puts a handkerchief to his face)

GEORGIA SAM
If you can’t take this shit you can turn right the hell around. You yeller bug bastard. 

BILLY
No…no, I’m fine.

GEORGIA SAM
You best be. 

RANDAL
(To Mongrel Johnny) Too bad. She’s a looker.

GEORGIA SAM
(To MULESKINNER HERB) You know which tribe done this?

MULESKINNER HERB
Weren’t no tribe. 

 EXT.PRAIRIE. NIGHTIME. RED and COB are in their flea wraps ablaze by a yellow light emanating from a nearby fire, their heads resting on their saddles. COB seems to be asleep. RED stares at him. He leans over to reach his coat and pulls out a tintype of a woman and a young child. We see COB’s left eye open, watching him. RED stares at the photo for a while and then looks around the area slowly. He puts the tintype back in his coat and goes to sleep. Black frame.

CUT TO EXT. PRAIRIE. DAYTIME. The backs of RED and COB with each one on opposite sides of the frame. In the center are two different riders in the distance. 

RED
What is this shit?

COB
Huh?

RED
Be ready boy.

COB
(Whispering) We gonna plug ’em?

RED 
 Not unless the situation sees fit. Just keep a calm disposition.

COB
Can’t we ride around them?

RED
They’ll think we’re planning up shit. Just stay clam and don’t move much.

We’re in long shot. The two sets of riders are at opposite sides of the frame quickly converging. We go to a close-up on the revolver in RED’S holster. His finger slowly cocks back the hammer. The riders continue to converge. They’re quickly within spitting distance of each other. We get a good view of the other riders. They’re two Indians. One of them is wearing a wedding dress spattered in black blood and has his face covered in red paint. His eyes are almost black. The other is wearing a beaver pelt stovepipe hat with a bullet hole through the brim. Within the hole are a few feathers bunched together. His eyes are covered in black paint that’s begun to dry and crack. Together the two of them resemble a pair of ghastly clowns. The two sets of riders pass by close enough to feel the breaths between them. They all stare at each other but don’t move. They soon pass each other and are quickly on their separate ways again.

RED
(Whispering) Hell.

COB
Those were injuns?

RED
Hell yes.

COB
Ugly fellers huh? Why was one of them clad in a wedding dress?

RED
You think an Injun knows shit about the civilized world? Just another piece of clothing to him.

COB
Think them’s the ones who killed that family back there?

RED
Nah. Didn’t have no arrows with ‘em and they wasn’t carryin enough to warrant killin a family. ‘Sides, why’d a woman be wearin a weddin dress out here if she gots a kid already? 

COB
Reckon yer right

Beat.

COB
Ever been married yerself?

RED looks at him strangely. 

COB
Well, have ye?

RED
Once. 

COB
Yer woman die like you said at your brother’s? 

RED
Somethin like that.

COB
Y’never got married no more?

RED
Hell no. Didn’t like it so much the first time. Owning’ a house and raisin’ young ins. T’ain’t my life. I get more from a night with a whore than my entire turn as a wedded fellow.

EXT. PRAIRIE. DAYTIME.  GEORGIA SAM and his men are riding.

BILLY
I just want you fellers to know that I’m a’ shoot any person we come across. I tell you that much.

GEORGIA SAM
Go ahead. I reckon I’ll do the same.

MULE SKINNER HERB
Quiet! We’re coming upon something.

BILLY
Sheeyit! 

MULE SKINNER HERB
Shut the hell up.

In the distance are the two Indians. 
GEORGIA SAM
Our range ain’t hog-swoggle from here.

MULE SKINNER HERB
Within a few paces the Queedmore will do.

GEORGIA SAM
If you can take ‘em, do so.

They continue to converge. We close in on MULE SKINNER HERB unsheathing his rifle.

MULE SKINNER HERB
(Whispering) A few more paces. 

The Indians stop still in the distance. 

MULE SKINNER HERB
Goddamn niggers. 

He kicks his horse forward at a quick gallop. The Indians separate and begin to circle him.

RANDAL
The shit he doin?

GEORGIA SAM
Damned if I can tell.

MULE SKINNER HERB fires his rifle to the left and in the distance one Indian hits the ground. A shot rings out and the other Indian is bathed in smoke with a pistol in his hand. MULE SKINNER steadies his rifle to the right and fires. The Indian’s head comes apart.

RANDAL
Goddamn! You see that shit?

MULE SKINNER rides back to them.

MULE SKINNER HERB
Let’s go.

EXT. PRAIRIE. AFTERNOON. RED and COB are riding. 

COB
My pa said you was Irish. You really Irish?

RED
Hell no. Folks assumed on account a my red hair. Well, when my hair used to be red. Also called me the Scottsman. T’ain’t from there neither.

COB
Y’ever…

RED
Shut the hell up. I see somethin queer.

Down a hillside, a group of 6 long-bearded white men in dirt-stiff buckskin are looting corpses strewn out from a sacked wagon. A few dozen cattle are grouped around them. Two men are carrying large stacks of arrows under their arms and plunging them into the bullet-ridden corpses. A few others are going around with makeshift knifes, scalping each of the corpses, ringing the blood out of each mass of skin and hair, and placing them in  pouches. When finished with their job, the viscera-soaked men ride off with the herd of cattle. 
RED
(Shouting to the men) Hey!

COB
(Whispering) What’re you doin?!?!

RED
Hey!
The men turn around.

BEARDED MAN #1
(Shouting) Who the hell are you?

RED
You boys work for Big Bill Clements?
RED rides in closer

BEARDED MAN #2
(Quietly) Let’s shoot this snake.

BEARDED MAN #1
(Ignoring his friend) Who in the god-damned hell are you?

RED
Just a man looking for work for me and my son.

BEARDED MAN #1
Work? You think--

THE BEARDED MAN pulls a pistol from a belt resting on the front of his saddle. RED jumps from his horse, hiding behind its large form. THE BEARDED MAN fires, creating a wall of white smoke. RED unsheathes a Winchester 73 rifle and shoots the BEARDED MAN’s horse in the head. The horse plops straight down into a cloud of dust. BEARDED MAN #2 fires a revolver wildly. RED fires off another round, hitting nothing. The rest of the BEARDED MEN open fire, sans two who ride off, gathering the cattle that is spreading due to gunfire. Smoke blankets the scene as only vague forms pop off rounds at each other. COB fires his pistol into the smoke. RED ceases fire as the 4 bearded men continue to give off round after round. The rate of fire dies down, as does the thinning smoke. RED quickly steadies his Winchester and shoots the first bearded man through his beard and into his chest. The second bearded man kicks out a shot as the other two reload their weapons. COB fires his weapon over and over, grazing the third bearded man in the arm. RED un-holsters his pistol and shoots the second man in the neck. The two other men start to ride off, one still grasping his wounded arm. 

RED
(To COB) Stop firing that god-damn weapon!

COB ceases fire as RED grabs his Winchester, aims it and opens up. The first rider falls. He fires again. The shot goes wild. He fires again. The second rider falls. RED mounts his horse and rides to the two men, still alive but limping. The shot cuts to COB breathing heavily and looking on in awe. 

In the far distance, RED dismounts and knocks one man down with the butt of his rifle. He shoots the other in the head. This all happens with nary an angle change. He then starts caving in the man’s skull amidst cries for mercy. RED drops the rifle and pulls a knife. He grasps the man’s hair and runs his knife across the top of his head, effectively scalping him. He walks over to the other man and does the same. Soon he pulls a pistol out of one of the men’s pants, walks over to the other, undoes the dead man’s pistol belt and throws it over his shoulder. He mounts his horse and rides back, covered in blood. 

RED
Start taking the bullets from these fellers and anything else of use.

RED starts scalping the rest of the men. They soon ride off when he’s finished. We go to a montage of close-ups of the bald corpses stripped of scalps and beards. The shot pans over where horse hoofs stomp into frame. It’s GEORGIA SAM and his troupe. 

MULESKINNER HERB
Red’s been here.

GEORGIA SAM
No shit. 

BILLY
Lord, that’s vile.    

We go to a montage of RED and COB traveling across barren terrain and GEORGIA SAM’s troupe following. The montage ends and we fix on RED and COB riding. They come upon a forested area with a small creek and some trees. At first it seems welcoming, but we soon notice that much of the greenery has died out and the branches are like gray bones.

RED
Feels right good to see a change in the landscape.

COB
First trees for a while.

RED
For a damn century felt like. Cept these ain’t the purtiest I ever seen.

The two lone riders traverse through the trees. Amongst the ramparts of contorting wood there stands an almost pure white figure in the distance. It eerily comes closer to us. RED and COB ride closer to it. 
RED
Oh shit boy. 

As we come closer, we see that the figure is a pregnant woman sans clothing. She’s in a stupor, muttering unintelligibly. RED addresses her.

RED
Watchchu doin’ out here nekkid like’at?

The woman walks to him and begins speaking in a foreign tongue.

COB
What she sayin?

RED
She talkin’ square head I think. You should avert your eyes.

COB
I seen that dead girl back yonder.

RED stares at him.
RED
Go get us some water from that creek while I deal with this woman.

RED tosses COB his skin water pouch and then dismounts. He starts trying to relay information to the woman with his body language. As he does this he speaks to her slowly.

RED
You come with us. We take you back to town. The town over yonder.

The woman points to the direction of the town and then shakes her head yes. RED wraps a blanket around her and then lays a blanket over the front of his saddle. He grabs her by the hips and helps her mount his horse and then does the same.

RED
Come on Cob, we ain’t got all day.

COB
I’m comin.

EXT. PRAIRIE. MORNING.  There’s a small town in the distance. A blemish on otherwise flat terrain.

RED 
You see that? 

COB
Yeah.

RED
That’s our home.

EXT. CATTLE TOWN. MORNING. We see the town arch with three corpses strung up about it. RED, COB and THE WOMAN enter. The town seems in its infancy, but there are numerous tents and shacks. Numerous people are shuffling about, skeletons of buildings are being assembled. The street is a river of mud and there’s a dead horse rotting in its center. One rail-thin man is clad in a woman’s dress, taking drags off of a pipe as he whittles down a piece of wood. He turns his eyes up and peers at us from a downturn brow. The look is simultaneously inviting and unsettling. Whores call out to RED and COB from out of windows. A fat, painted-up whore is smoking a cigarette and leaning against a post, while a man stands behind her, urinating in the street. It’s like a daytime Mardi Gras in a cowtown. RED and COB dismount and tie their horses, pull the britches from their crotches and pause to kneel for a bit. RED walks to a passerby. 

RED
Pardon me sir. Could you direct me to a doctor? This woman is with child.

PASSERBY
Yonder to the left of the hardware ‘stablishment. 

RED
Obliged. 

INT. DOCTOR’S OFFICE. MORNING

The doctor is treating a man’s purple and bulging finger.

DOCTOR
You might find it fit to take your time when hammering up a place. And don’t partake of any spirits while doing so.

PATIENT
That I’ll do. Got overanxious all it was. Thank ye doctor.

The door opens. RED walks in with the young woman. 

RED
This gal is with child.

DOCTOR
Is she ready to give birth?

RED
Hell if I know.

DOCTOR
(To the woman) How do you feel?

RED
Sorry, she only speaks square head.

DOCTOR
Is she your wife?

RED
Naw, found her down by them trees.

DOCTOR
You needn’t make up stories. There’s no cause for worry if ye impregnate a girl without marryin her in this town. We won’t bind you to her.

RED
I ain’t done the deed with her. I found her yonder.

DOCTOR
Yes, fine. Are you paying for an examination?

RED
I was thinking I’d pay if she could stay in this ‘stablishment overnight. 

DOCTOR
We don’t offer rooms. I’ll give her a look over and then direct you to the hotel.

RED
Obliged. How long shall it be?

DOCTOR
An hour or so.

RED
Me and my boy will be getting ourselves something to eat if that’s right fine.

DOCTOR
Yes of course.

RED
How much will this run me?

DOCTOR
I’ll write you an estimate.

The DOCTOR thinks for a second, counts on his fingers, writes on a piece of paper and hands it to RED

RED
Shit.

EXT. TOWN STREET. MORNING.

RED and COB cross it and then walk into a café. We track behind them as they walk through the doorway. RED surveys the interior. He focuses on two cowboys covered in a layer of dirt. Their names are JEB BROCIOUS and ELIJAH PRICE. He walks up to the counter.

WAITRESS
Good morning.

RED
Good morning (talking loudly) I’ll have me some mutton.

Everyone in the room gasps. The two cowboys walk up to RED.

JEB
You know what the hell yer doin? 

RED
Ordering food?

ELIJAH
This here’s a cattle town.

RED
Really now? 

ELIJAH
Yeah. 

RED
I’m positively frightened. You feed mutton-eaters to the cows ‘round here?

JEB
And twiddlepoop scalliwags that give wages to sheep-herdin’ sumbitches.

RED
So I reckon this is a proper civilized camp. What baron runs this pisshole?

JEB
Bossman Bill Clements runs this pisshole. What outhouse you hail from?

RED
All cross country. 

ELIJAH
Really now? 

RED
This big bastard Bill need extra hands?

JEB
Fer what?

RED
Anything (he moves his coat to reveal a revolver tucked in his pants)

JEB
Reckon he might.

RED
You reckon you’ll direct me to his place of bi’ness? 

JEB
Reckon I might. Yer name?

RED
J.R. Manning. This here’s my boy, Cob.

JEB
Well come with me.

They leave the café. 
RED
Cob, you get yourself something to eat. (He hands him some coins) Check up on the jaybird too.

COB
Sure.

RED rides to BIG BILL CLEMENTS’ ranch with the two cowboys. 

ELIJAH
So then I tell him, either shoot or fuck, alright?

JEB
(Laughing) He really told him that!

ELIJAH
So he goes for his pistol which was in his britches layin on the floor. And *p’chew!* I fire my double barrel and his head comes clean off and his whole body spins in the air.

RED isn’t paying attention. He’s busy surveying the town. He focuses on a huge tree at the end of town. Dozens of bodies are strung up.

RED
…the fuck’s that?

JEB
What?

RED
That tree there.

JEB
That’s the hangin tree. Where we put up all the lowlifes, murderers, thieves, rapists, sheep-herders, free-grazers and the like. It helps keep order ‘round here.

RED
Shit.

INT. BIG BILL CLEMENTS’ office. DAYTIME. RED is sat down in front of CLEMENT’S desk.

CLEMENTS
I’m told you want work.

RED
You were told right.

CLEMENTS
What’s your experience?

RED
I’ve shot my share.

CLEMENTS
How do I know that? I don’t just hire any dreg what comes off the street claiming a reputation.

RED
(Opening his duster to reveal the scalps and beards hanging from an inside pocket) These hairpieces look familiar to you? 

CLEMENTS
They supposed to?

RED
Reckon you sent out six fellers to dispose of some undesirables. My guess is these belong to four of them.

CLEMENTS
(Silent awe) Oh shit. 

RED
Reckon I’m right then.

CLEMENTS
(To himself) Those simpletons can’t do a thing right. God-dammit! (To RED) Give me a good reason you shouldn’t be strung up in the here and now.

RED
Now, now, it happened in Injun territry. Ain’t no laws out there, you already know that. Ain’t that why they was out there in the first place you sly cowfucker?

CLEMENTS stares at him. Trying to control his anger.

RED
Either I’m one god-damn good gunman or your help ain’t horseshit. Either way it’s in your best interest to hire me on.

Beat.

CLEMENTS
(Deep breaths) You have any moral scruples?

RED
Not that I know of.

Beat.
CLEMENTS
J.R., my land is being infested by vermin. Sheep-herding vermin that destroy the grass my cows need to feed. Free-grazing sons of bitches that drink our water and eat our grass at no charge. And believe me, they don’t stop there. I know they’ve rustled themselves some of my stock…this old man knows a thing or two about this life. I know when I’m being bent over. I don’t like being pushed and I don’t like killing. I’ve reasoned with the sheepmen, but they refuse to leave. I pushed back, they pushed back and now we’ve got ourselves a war. 
Beat.

CLEMENTS
It’s a bad situation, J.R. This isn’t the result of my greed.

RED
You needn’t convince me on moral grounds. I’m loathe of sheep-herdin’ sons of bitches myself.

CLEMENTS
Yes. Of course.

RED
Do ye have any specific work for my type?

CLEMENTS
(He takes in a deep breath) Yes. I’ve been having trouble with one Bud Griffin. Jed and Elijah will show you his estate if you’ll take the job.

RED
When you want it done? 

CLEMENTS
By week’s end.

RED
By week’s end.

CLEMENTS
Would you like to negotiate a price?

RED
Anything you see fit…so long as I can get half now. 

CLEMENTS
Understood. (He opens a drawer and throws a wad of paper money at RED) That sufficient?

RED
Looks like. 

CLEMENTS
Red…don’t hurt his woman unless need be. I hire these backwaters bastards and they rape and kill the women as if they were pigs. It doesn’t look good to the townsfolk and it doesn’t rest well on a man’s conscience.

RED
I’ll not lay a hand on her (he smiles)…unless she asks me to.

CLEMENTS uncomfortably forces out a smile.

INT Café. DAYTIME. 

COB is sat down shoveling in a steak and some potatoes. A waitress approaches him.

WAITRESS
Do you want something to drink?

COB
Got any whiskey?

WAITRESS
How old are you?

COB
As old as dried shit and twice as pungent. 

WAITRESS
(Taken aback) I’ll get you some buttermilk.

RED enters the café and approaches COB.
RED
Let’s go check up on that jaybird.

COB
Ain’t you gonna’ eat?

RED
I’ll eat when I get my lodgings set up in the hotel.

RED grabs a potato and shoves it in his mouth as they leave.

COB
Hey, you old sumbitch…

RED
Whoa! Thought you weren’t fond on the cussin.

COB
If I’m gonna’ be a shootist I ought to talk like one.

RED
Shit, talkin’s the last thing you need to worry about. More important to learn when to shut the hell up. 
 
INT. DOCTOR’s office. DAYTIME. RED enters.

RED
What’s the word doc?

DOCTOR
Word is that she ain’t due for a good month. You can take her. 

RED
Thank you sir. (He sets down some cash) This sufficient?

DOCTOR
Quite.

INT. HOTEL ROOM. DAYTIME. RED and COB have their empty flea wraps rolled out on the ground. The woman is sat on the bed, still clad in RED’s blanket.

RED
You know, that ain’t right. (To the woman) You want some garments? (She stares at him). Shit. GARMENTS…CLOTHES (he tugs his shirt and points at her) YOU NEED.

She shakes her head yes. 
RED
Alright. Good. I’ll be back.
RED leaves.

INT. DRESS SHOP. AFTERNOON. RED approaches the owner.

RED
You folks got anything for a woman with child about eight months in?

OWNER
 Naw. We got some dresses for them fat whores. You might could pin ‘em to fit.

RED
I might. Let me see ‘em.

INT. HOTEL ROOM. AFTERNOON. COB and the WOMAN have started a card game. The door opens and RED is carrying a gaudy purple number. The woman bolts up about as fast a pregnant woman can, dropping the blanket and holding the dress to herself.

COB 
That’s right purty. Damn right purty.

RED
Damn right. What you up to?

COB
Playin’ Old Sledge. She cain’t talk for shit but she knows a mess of card games.

RED
(To the woman) I bought you some pins so as to make it fit.

The WOMAN takes them.

RED
Turn around, boy.

COB
Dammit.

She puts on the dress, clenches some pins between her teeth and begins tailoring the dress.

RED
Turn back, son. Have a look.

COB
She’s a sight.

The two of them clap and whistle as the WOMAN does a pregnant, lop-sided curtsey.

INT. HOTEL ROOM. NIGHT. We pan across the woman, asleep under a blanket with her dress still on. RED and COB are asleep on the floor. 

We go to a montage of the three of them doing things about town.
 
EXT. TOWN STREET. EARLY MORNING. RED, COB, are walking down the street. The WOMAN is with them doing her pregnant waddle. 

COB
We gonna live here now?

RED
It seems.

COB
I like this place.

RED
Good.

COB
You gonna’ wed her? (He asks this as if she isn’t even there)

RED
What?

COB
You gonna’ wed her?

RED
She don’t even speak American.

COB
Yeah, so what?

RED
How the fuck she gonna’ say her vows?

COB
She could say them in square head.

RED
Naw, I don’t think so. With her bein with child n’ all. I ain’t no father.

COB
You’re a good sight better than mine.

RED
That ain’t a great feat.

COB
Yeah…You workin for Bill now, huh?

RED
Yep.

COB
He pay well?

RED
A king’s ransom.

JEB and ELIJAH meet up with RED. 
RED
Morning gentlemen.

JEB
(Whispering) We got word that Bud is currently at his home.

ELIJAH
(Whispering) You might want to take advantage of the situation.

RED
Shit. Alright. (To COB) You an’ the jaybird go about town. (He hands some money to the WOMAN and then to COB) I got biness to take care of.

COB
Alright.

RED addresses the WOMAN and points to the dress shop. She happily begins to waddle over to it. RED walks back to the hotel.

INT. HOTEL ROOM. MORNING. RED is in the hotel room loading his Winchester 73 and pistols. 

INT. DRESS SHOP. MORNING. The WOMAN is looking through dresses while COB is visibly bored. We see his POV as he looks through the window at a SALOON. 

EXT. TOWN STREET. MORNING. RED begins riding to BUD’S home.

INT. DRESS SHOP. MORNING. The WOMAN is still looking through the dresses, but COB is absent.

INT. SALOON. MORNING. COB is at the bar.

COB
Whiskey.

The bartender slams down a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey without ever looking at COB’S face. 

EXT. OUTSKIRTS OF TOWN. MORNING. GEORGIA SAM’S troupe is entering the town. 

MULESKINNER HERB
Red’s here. No doubt.

GEORGIA SAM
Let’s have a look in the saloon.

INT. SALOON. MORNING. COB is trying to gulp down his whiskey. GEORGIA SAM’S troupe enters. They scan the area. GEORGIA SAM walks to the bartender.

GEORGIA SAM
You seen this man?

We see GEORGIA SAM in focus in the background, with COB in the foreground blurred.

GEORGIA SAM
His name’s Red

COB comes into sharp focus. His eyes are wide open.

GEORGIA SAM
He’s guilty of murder. You hear of the massacre in Baby Head?

BARTENDER
Word come around.

GEORGIA SAM
Well he done it. He also kilt Buckskin Jewel Johnson in Llano in 77. Raped Ethel Harris in Baby Head, bout 13 years ago. 

COB starts shaking and breathing heavily. This goes on for a while.

GEORGIA SAM
Also started a melee at a minstrel show near the Lower Lick in 79. Left four dead.

After a while COB stands up and turns to the men.

COB
I seen him.

INT. BUD’S HOME. MORNING. We pan around the place where a woman is knitting. We go to a window and fix on it. Soon we see the barrel of a gun moving across the frame. RED’S face then appears, surveying the inside. 

EXT. BUD’S HOME. RED turns his head around the corner at a tree stump with an ax resting in it. There’s mud covering the ground and fresh footprints in it. A JOLTING SHOT RINGS OUT and a bullet STRIKES the side of the house sending a ricochet into RED’S side. His ass falls into the mud, while his back leans against the house. 

INT. SALOON. MORNING. GEORGIA SAM’S men hear the echo of the gunfire.

EXT. BUD’S HOUSE. MORNING.

RED
Aw hell.

We hear the woman screaming from inside the house. WE go to BUD, a hefty man in overalls and filthy long johns. He’s out in the open with a Winchester 66 at his shoulder. RED faces his rifle to BUD and FIRES off a round that goes wild. He cocks his gun and FIRES again. The bullet SPLITS BUD’S shoulder and THROWS him back. He SHRIEKS. 

INT. DRESS SHOP. MORNING. The PREGNANT WOMAN is somewhat perplexed by the echo of gunfire.

EXT. BUD’S HOUSE. MORNING.
BUD starts RUNNING and RED forces himself up to catch him. BUD hides himself behind a pile of wood as RED realizes his cover and runs in the opposite direction. BUD FIRES off a round that SPLINTERS the corner of the house and sends RED SPINNING behind it. RED rests himself against the house, across from some wood work being done. Boards, hammers, and nails are spread about. 

Each man SPITS rounds at each other between pauses. 

EXT. THE TOWN’S MAIN STREET. MORNING. GEORGIA SAM, COB, and the rest are riding to BUD’S house. Gunshots echo in the distance.

EXT. BUD’S HOUSE. MORNING.

RED
(To himself) Of all the fuckin ways to go about this damn thing. Walk right up to the bastard’s house. Damn it to shit.

BUD
(Breathing heavily and shouting) You tell that…cow humping…sumbitch that ain’t no one…gonna take me out of my land! He kin hire all the…man killers he likes! I ain’t leavin! Got that!?!?

RED stares at the hammer and nails. 

We go to BUD reloading his weapon and checking his wound, then to his POV of RED’s rifle barrel peaking around a corner. 

BUD
(Slightly laughing amongst winces of pain) Sumbitch.

He fires at the corner of the house, cocks his rifle and steadies it, smiling. Just then, a shot RINGS out and his head ERUPTS. He drops like a sack of wet shit. RED is standing behind BUD with a pistol smoking. We pan to RED’S rifle barrel peaking around the corner, and then turn around the corner to reveal the rifle nailed to the house’s side under its barrel and stock. RED removes the ax from the tree stump and sits down on it for a bit, breathing heavily. He then picks up the ax, walks to BUD and starts hacking away out of our sight. 

GEORGIA SAM and his men are now sneaking around the house with rifles in hand. BILLY is visible nervous. The men spread out. BILLY turns the corner and sees RED hacking away at a body. He steadies his rifle and FIRES off a round that goes wild. RED SPINS, draws his pistol, and FIRES. The shot SPLINTERS the corner of the house and BILLY pushes himself behind the corner. MULE SKINNER and JOHNNY THE MONGREL RUN from the side of the barn. RED manages to run off and get to his horse. All of the bounty hunters are now at the front of the house FIRING off shots. A bullet STRIKES RED’S horse and he is THROWN off. He quickly steadies himself and runs for cover under the huge hanging tree where dozens of bodies are swaying. Morning fog blankets the ground. The bounty hunters all run upon the hanging tree. RANDAL forces himself through a pair of bodies and surveys through the wall of flesh and fog. A shot rings out and one lynched body jolts next to RANDAL’S head. He begins running through the corpses. A vague silhouette becomes visible and he fires at it, missing. A shot rings out and strikes RANDAL in the armpit. He screams and drops to the ground. Quickly, he pulls a pistol and begins to cock it, but RED approaches him while fanning his pistol and RANDAL is torn apart. A shot rings out and whizzes past RED’S ear and we soon see JOHNNY with a pistol drawn. RED fires in his direction with a second pistol and then disappears into the ramparts of fog and corpses. JOHNNY runs after him and as we follow his action we soon turn to the ground where RED is lying down. He fires a pistol which blasts apart JOHNNY’S toes and lets off another shot that hits right below the crotch, striking the femoral artery and sending spurts of blood. JOHNNY grabs his foot and thigh then quickly hops away with RED following. He exits from under the hanging tree and RED does the same within the minute. When RED exits, the bodies around him start erupting in gunfire. We go to MULE SKINNER HERB, BILLY, and GEORGIA SAM firing their rifles at RED. RED disappears back under the hanging tree while FIRING his pistol. He DUCKS down and frantically starts reloading both of his weapons. A barrage of gunfire soon EXPLODES and the bodies around RED start erupting and jolting. 

RED
Sheeyit.  

GEORGIA SAM looks at JOHNNY’S wound. 

GEORGIA SAM
Looks like he struck an artery. We need to tie that shit up.

RED stays ducked down and begins crawling to the back of the tree. He soon exits out of the back, but is met with MULE SKINNER HERB FIRING off a round. RED turns and FIRES and the two men exchange bullets between blinding smoke. A bullet STRIKES RED’S right ear and takes the lobe off. RED jerks back and grabs it, but continues to FIRE and move around. His gun clicks empty and he holsters it and draws his other while still grasping his ever bleeding ear. MULE SKINNER drops his rifle and draws a sawed-off shotgun. At the advent of this, RED RUNS behind the tree, where he is met by JOHNNY with a drawn pistol and his pants soaked in blood. RED FIRES a shot that misses and SPLINTERS a small tree trunk. JOHNNY FIRES a shot that goes wild. MULE SKINNER turns the corner and RED turns around FIRING his pistol at him. The first shot STRIKES his shoulder and MULE SKINNER drops. JOHNNY SHOOTS RED in the shoulder of his back and RED SPINS from the impact while FIRING off a round that goes wild. JOHNNY FIRES again and then turns to hide behind the tree. MULE SKINNER pulls the trigger of his shotgun, but it just clicks.

MULE SKINNER
Goddammit! 

He tries pulling the trigger again but to no avail. RED FIRES a shot at him but it just splashes mud into his face. MULE SKINNER drops the shotgun and pulls a pistol. He FIRES at RED, but he’s already retreating back into the hanging tree. While running in the hanging tree, a shot echoes and we see GEORGIA SAM’s silhouette FIRING off round after round. RED FIRES while running and the silhouette disappears. He begins reloading his pistols. Another shot rings out, and RED THROWS himself to the ground. A bullet STRIKES next to his head and throws mud at him. RED finishes reloading and tries to survey where the bullet is coming from. Another shot ECHOES out that HITS almost exactly where his previous shoulder wound was. RED shrieks in pain and then turns to where the shot was coming from and FANS his pistol. He forces himself up and begins traversing through the corpses. A shot is FIRED and STRIKES the tree trunk, RED turns and FIRES through the fog. GEORGIA SAM’s body falls dead. RED runs up to it, snatches its pistol belt and continues traversing the area. Through the mist he sees BILLY sneaking next to the tree. RED FIRES and STRIKES BILLY in the neck, who is then THROWN back and starts convulsing. JOHNNY turns and FIRES at RED, who RUNS in the opposite direction. RED comes upon MULE SKINNER laying on the ground bleeding severely. He KICKS him in the face with his iron heeled boot and then STOMPS on his head. JOHNNY comes upon RED with his pistol drawn but it clicks empty. JOHNNY then SMACKS the pistol belt over RED’s shoulder and tries to force a second pistol into RED’s stomach. RED quickly puts his hand between the pistol’s hammer while JOHNNY forcibly tries to pull the trigger. The webbing on RED’s hand starts to bleed, but he manages to knock the pistol from his hands. JOHNNY RIGHT HOOKS RED in the face, KNOCKING him back a few feet. RED’s right eyebrow is now split and for a second we can see the pink flesh inside of it. Soon a line of blood starts to spill out. RED and JOHNNY circle each other with fists up. JOHNNY still has a limp. He RUNS in and SLUGS RED in his eye again, spreading blood from his previous wound all over his face. RED returns with a succession of rights and then GRABS JOHNNY and THROWS himself on him. RED begins PUMMELING him while leaking blood all over the place. JOHNNY gets a good hit in, but RED continues his barrage until JOHNNY’s nose SPLITS open. RED’s eye is now swollen and lumpy like a bad orange. JOHNNY tries to force a finger into RED’s wounded eye, but RED grasps the hand and bites into the thumb. With the thumb still in his mouth, RED POUNDS three successive lefts into JOHNNY’s head. JOHNNY’s arm drops. Red slowly gets up.

Beat.

RED picks up a pistol and FIRES a shot into each dead man in long shot. 

Beat.

We hear the click of a pistol hammer.

RED throws his gun out and COCKS its hammer. A figure steps from the fog. It’s COB with a pistol drawn.

RED
(Breathing heavily) Scared the shit out of me. You liable to get shot in the face doin’ shit like’at. (Pause) I hope that doctor’s worth his sand…I don’t feel so goddamn well.

 RED is SOAKED in blood. He forces out a laugh and sets his pistol down. COB is silent with his pistol still drawn. 
RED
You can rest your plough handle hand, the fight’s over. 

Beat.
RED
 The fuck you doin’? 

COB
My mother…

RED
What?

Beat
COB
My mother…

Beat.

RED
Now them’s lies. Everythin I done with yer mother was according to her own will. I swear to God Himself.

COB steadies his pistol and gets a bead.

Without further hesitation, RED GRABS his pistol and they both FIRE simultaneously. COB’s shot goes wild, RED’s shot doesn’t. COB is THROWN backward into the mud. He lays with a bullet imbedded above his left eyebrow. 

The two of them are silhouetted in long shot. We wait as RED stands over the BOY’S body.

RED slowly walks out of frame.

© David Lambert 1999