KURT RUSSELL and KATHLEEN QUINLAN look blankly at the engine of their Jeep Grand Cherokee.
A TRACKER TRAILER pulls over, kicking up dust in their faces. A seeming normal-looking JOE hops out.
Looks like yer broken down. Why don’t the missus ride with me in ta town. You, feller, stay here till the tow truck arrives.
I don’t know...
That sounds perfect!
I’ll see you later, honey.
They smooch. Joe is already opening the door to the passenger side of the cab. She walks over but questioningly looks back at Kurt.
Stay safe! I’ll be waiting. Right here.
Joe helps her up. Closes the door and walks around to his side.
Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.
Kurt waves. The truck pulls out. Two hundred yards later, the truck crosses into the oncoming lane, CRASHES over a speed limit sign, and comes to a rest after glancing a concrete barrier.
Kathleen exits the cab. With an unsteady gate she walks in the middle of the highway. Pupils dilated, she checks both directions frequently. She has BLOOD spatters on her face. She rubs an ear with one hand and holds a REVOLVER with the other. Kurt runs up.
What the heck happened?
Kathleen stows the gun back in her purse.
Kurt leans in to her ear.
Kathleen slows her jitters.
Well, he said he was going to rape, torture, and kill me. I said to stop the truck, but then he tried to restrain me, brandishing a knife. So I shot him.
Kurt looks at her and then into the cab. Joe is hunched over. Blood is spattered around the windows.
Well, we can still drive this rig into town. Do you want to dump the body out or unhitch the trailer?