ALLYSON – mid 20s, any race/ethnicity, walks with a limp
BILL – early 30s, any race/ethnicity, wears thick glasses
JAMISON – early 20s, any race/ethnicity
TIME
The beginnings of dusk.
PLACE
A rural grocery store, somewhere far away from Santa Monica, California.
NOTES
The lighting of this piece should be eerily dim.
“Ultimately, we know deeply that the other side of every fear is a freedom.”
~Marilyn Ferguson
Editor's Note: This is the original script, as shared by the author.
Warm green lighting illuminates a desert. An invisible breeze seems to blow onstage. A small makeshift shack composed of a metal sheet propped against a fallen telephone pole can be seen in the distance. Debris from broken-down cars and jagged wood are scattered across the stage.
Stage right, we are in a grocery store: abandoned, empty, and broken into.
ALLYSON enters onstage with a limp and a makeshift crutch. After a moment,
BILL follows behind her, his glasses deep set on a softly beeping device that he’s constructed.
ALLYSON
(Nervously) What’s on the radar, Bill?
BILL
Nothing as far as I can see; they shouldn’t be coming until after dark, though.
ALLYSON
And Mendez? Any word?
BILL
No word since the ambush back at the rendezvous point. Jamison is okay, though. Partners stick together.
There is a long pause; they know their friends probably did not—or will not— make it back to them. ALLYSON places her hand on BILL’s shoulder.
ALLYSON
Both partners have to be alive in order to stick together.
BILL
(Bitterly sarcastic) Thinking like that on the edge of tonight sure cheers up the ole’ rooster, doesn’t it, Allyson?
ALLYSON
You know I’m right, Bill.
BILL
This I know, but I never asked for the reminder.
Another long pause. Hope is fleeting from both. After a moment, ALLYSON breaks away.
ALLYSON
Okay, enough of this. Quit your flappin’ and come help me grab some firewood. The good Lord gave me a free pass to be pessimistically realistic when he took a nap and let this sh#tstorm hit.
BILL
(With downtrodden optimism) Why not see it for how you could instead of how you do? We’ve always wanted to get out of Santa Monica... now we’re quite literally however far away you can dream!
ALLYSON
Nice try. I can’t really think about anything except staying alive with this leg.
BILL
At least it’s something else to think about.
ALLYSON
I’m serious.
ALLYSON pauses. She reaches out to touch BILLY but then stops—she needs to enter survival mode.
With how fast the sun is setting, it looks like we’ll be spending the night here. Clear a spot for us to lay down… preferably near the liquor isle!
BILL steps away from ALLYSON to scope out the scene, but then stops abruptly as something green catches his eye on an almost-empty shelf.
BILL
(Too loudly) Al, check this out!
He proudly holds up a travel sized bottle of hand-sanitizer.
It’s got to be the last one in California…
ALLYSON
Jesus Christ, Bill! You can’t just YELL like that out here! You’ll draw attention.
BILL unclasps the lid and takes a sniff before depositing a tiny bit of gel on his dirty hands.
BILL
I never thought I’d see one of these left out, not since the Takeover.
ALLYSON
Me neither…
ALLYSON snatches the bottle from BILL’s hand to scrutinize the label.
This sixty-percent alcohol? Do you think this can get me drunk?
They both laugh for the first time in a long while—it’s a welcomed moment.
BILL
I thought you were focused on staying alive with that leg of yours.
ALLYSON
Don’t you turn my own words against me, now.
Suddenly, a crackle of a radio. It’s Jamison’s voice, though it’s difficult to distinguish through the static.
JAMISON (offstage)
Ally, Bill? Do you copy? It’s Jamison.
ALLYSON
We copy, James. What the hell happened to you back there?
JAMISON (offstage)
After the ambush, I had to break from. I had too many on my trail at once; I would have led them right back to you.
BILL
Jamison! It’s so glad to hear your voice, partner.
JAMISON (offstage)
Yours as well, Bill.
ALLYSON
(Cutting them off) Any word from Mendez?
Nothing but static. JAMISON clears his throat.
JAMISON (offstage)
Mendez didn’t make it out…
Silence, for an eternity.
I’m so sorry, Allyson.
ALLYSON
(Choking back tears) Did you see it? Did you see them take him?
JAMISON (offstage)
Yes.
A heavy breath.
Your partner died with dignity, Allyson.
ALLYSON
(Voice cracking) Okay then.
ALLYSON coughs to clear her throat. She wipes her eyes and grabs BILL’s hand.
Jamison, we are sending you our coordinates. Get here soon; the sun is dropping fast.
JAMISON (offstage)
Thanks, team. Over and out.
The radio goes silent except for soft static in the background. ALLYSON and BILL stay frozen, barely breathing.
BILL
Godspeed.
ALLYSON
That’s all we are saying to each other now-a-days. “Godspeed.” Not, “see you later,” or “talk to you soon.” Just… “Godspeed.”
She shudders.
I’m sick of it, Bill.
BILL
Me too.
ALLYSON
(Crying) I’m f#@king SICK of it! I’m sick of all the running, the starving, the not sleeping, the dying, the screaming.
ALLYSON tilts her head back and screams to the sky.
I’m sick of it! I want our lives back!
BILL
Then let’s be sick of it!
BILL takes a lonely bag of flour from the shelf and throws it across the store, sending white dust everywhere. He flicks random cans on the shelves to the ground as he screams. ALLYSON stares at him, as if he’s lost his mind in the midst of the panic surrounding them. BILL takes a broken GPS unit from his pocket and chucks it to the ground.
ALLYSON
Are you nuts? What are you doing throwing around metal? You know those bastard-heads come running when they hear metal clanging!
BILL
Take a breath, Ally. We haven’t seen one for miles, and even if one of ‘em was out here somewhere, there’s no way in hell it’d be charged enough to hunt. We’re in the middle of a goddamn waste-filled dessert.
ALLYSON
You can’t possibly know that! What if your scanner is bugged? You could have just killed us!
BILL
Take a breath, Allyson. Let yourself just FEEL something for once.
They both sink to the ground, sitting among the clutter. A heavy sigh—they are both exhausted.
ALLYSON
If we die because of this, I’m going to kill you.
BILL
(Playfully) And just how exactly can you do that if we’re both already dead?
He leans towards ALLYSON; she can’t stay mad at him forever.
ALLYSON
I don’t know, but I’ll sure as hell find a way.
ALLYSON slaps BILL, then she leans forward—they meet in the middle, locked in a kiss. After a moment, the radio crackles once more.
JAMISON (offstage)
(Frantic) Guys? Do you copy?
BILL
Yes, Jamison. We copy. Thanks for the interruption…
JAMISON (offstage)
(Out of breath) They’re right on my trail! I don’t know if I can lose them.
ALLYSON
Wait, they’re here?
She shoots BILL a death glare.
Jamison, where the hell are you!?
JAMISON (offstage)
(Out of breath) They aren’t slowing down; I don’t know how their charge is lasting this long out here—
A grinding, mechanical howl can be heard through the radio.
F#@k! You both need to get out of—
Static, then silence. The radio has gone dead.
BILL
Jamison? Jamison!
In the distance, the sound of metal scrapping can be heard offstage. ALLYSON jerks upward, crabbing her crutch.
ALLYSON
They’re here, Bill! They’re f#@king here! I TOLD you! What are we going to do? I—
BILL
Ally, babe, take a deep breath. It was probably just the wind knocking something over, but even if one of them made it all the way out here, we have a shelter and I’m not leaving your side.
They slowly make their way against the empty grocery store shelf, huddling together. The light outside has faded. Suddenly, the green fluorescence of the store blinks, then vanishes. BILL pulls out a flashlight—it becomes their sole source of lighting on stage, with a pool of light just wide enough to illuminate both ALLYSON and BILL.
ALLYSON is shaking. After a moment, she closes her eyes and purses her lips and begins to softly sing.
ALLYSON
“Lullaby and goodnight, with roses bedight…”
BILL joins in—he knows this lullaby as well.
BILL
“With lilies o’er spread is baby’s wee bed…”
ALLYSON
My mom used to sing it to me when I would get scared from thunderstorms.
BILL
Then let’s keep singing.
BILL grabs ALLYSON’s hand and gives her a squeeze.
ALLYSON
“Lay thee down now and rest…”
BILL
“May thy slumber be—
A crash from somewhere in the distance.
—blessed.”
ALLYSON
I love you, Billy. Always have, always will.
BILL
This isn’t the end, Allyson. We’re in a good place, I just need you to trust me.
He motions to the grocery store and pats the metallic shelf by his head as a gesture of support. The familiar sound of struck metal rings across the stage. BILL and ALLYSON’s faces drop suddenly.
ALLYSON
Bill…? Was that…?
The sound of metal grinding on stone is heard once again, louder. Suddenly, a crashing noise rings out as BILL’s flashlight loses power. Blackout. ALLYSON’s screams echo throughout the darkness.
END OF PLAY.
