Hardware Script page 1 page 2

This opening sequence features the Nomad's discovery of the M.A.R.K. 13 in the O.Z. is from an unknown dated draft of the Hardware script © Richard Stanley, used with permission. Thanks to Rayvn for getting this back to me.

Darkness.  Wind
Dry.
Relentlessness.

FADE IN:

EXT:  THE WASTELAND - DAWN

The Darkness becomes a shifting veil of sand and we are inside the funnel of a dust storm.  The veil parts, momentarily revealing a vista of dunes, a thin, ponsonous wind shipping across them in a crimson spray.  Then the veil closes again, shifting to feveal a new tableau.

Abstract shapes silhoutted against a red sky.
A steel fence post.
A coil of barbed wire.
A body, its outline softened by the dust, broken and half-buried, its ragged uniform fluttering in a mockery of life.
A glint of dusty metal.
A mine field laid bare by the restless wind.
Another shape gains resolution in the dust.
A steel hand appears, jointed fingers pointed skyward, veins an intricate web of cables and hydraulic tubing, born of fire.

A seeting dust cloud appears low on the horizon, a dark shape emerging from its swirling grain, fluttering for a moment like a grounded bat, drawing closer, becoming the figure of the Nomad swathed in a flapping scarf and a ragged duster, face shadowed by a wide-brimmed hat, shoulders hunched beneath the weight of a bulging military backpack.  He holds a long stick like a spear in one hand and as he approaches we see the sunlight glistening on his tinted blast goggles and on the transparent respirator that protects his face.

The nomad is moving hurriedly, trying to keep ahead of the storm, his eyes nervously scanning the horizon.
There is a sharp crack and two flares drift down behind him like will-o'-the-wisps falling from the red sky.
He glances around and his eyes catch a glint of metal through the gloom.

Slowing, he weaves his way across the minefield, feeling out a path with the tip of his stick, his eyes focused on a shape buried beneath a low ridge of sand.
He sees the reaching synthetic hand and hunches beside it, sweeping away the dust, the wind helping him, and slowly a face emerges from the earth.

A steel face with eyes like red jewels, features scorched and marked by shrapnel wounds.
The nomad begins to dig more swiftly now.
He glances furtively around and then looks down, smiling at his discovery.
The steel skull could be smiling back at him.

to Nomad selling the M.A.R.K. 13 scene

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