TAYLOR (CONT) You and your fucking questions, Somerset. Somerset replaces the book, digs up a cigarette from his pocket. SOMERSET All this effort you've gone through, to be transferred from Philadelphia to here. MILLS I'm here for the same reasons as you, I guess. at least the same reasons you used to have for being here... Somerset, dressed only in his underwear, lays back on the bed. A little further on, two dogs are fighting, circling, attacking, their coats matted with blood. Away in the field, another dog sprints to join the fight. AMTRACK TRAIN -- EARLY EVENING Passing urban streets below. The SOUNDS of the CITY are here as they will be everywhere in this story. Somerset's life is packed in many moving boxes, except for clothing in a closet and hundreds of books on shelves. Somerset's face tightens as he concentrates on the metronome. MAN (writes receipt) Not that it's any of my business...
Somerset looks at a coloring-book open on the coffee table.
CHINESE BODEGA/CITY STREETS -- NIGHT DAVID MILLS, 31, exits with a bagged 40oz bottle of beer. Mills averts, swings, pounds the side of his fist into the second thug's face -- CRACK. The second thug stumbles back, drops the knife, his nose squirting blood.
Mills swiftly finishes that sentence by smashing his bottle against the first thug's head. The second thug moves from the side, brings out a knife. Mills' free hand pounds the thug's face: once, twice -- third time's the charm as the window shatters.
Ahead in the street, TWO YOUNG THUGS struggle with a crowbar to break into the trunk of a parked car. One thug looks up, doesn't think Mills will be a problem, continues prying.
He crosses the street under elevated subway tracks. Mills walks, looks at the broken refrigerators and pieces of junk in the gutter.