Some kind of bomb exploded. Michelle swings again, for his head this time. A cordless phone sits on the bedside table. Nate eyes her as she heads for the couch. Gritted teeth muffle her agony.
He looks at her, but she keeps her eyes on her plate. However, Howard and Emmett's intentions soon become questionable and Michelle is faced with a question: Is it better in here or out there? Howard takes a small step toward her. He just said he gets to decide. Howard comes halfway up the stairs behind Michelle. She sets the bottle on the table, hobbles over and digs through the utensil drawer.
Howard keeps his hand over the glass, fighting temptation. He was a lying son of a bitch. She uses the spearpoint on her crutch to rip one end open and begins pulling out the polyester stuffing. Howard turns and walks out. She takes a big swig. She lies back on the bed for a moment, listens. However, Howard and Emmett's intentions soon become questionable and Michelle is faced with a question: Is it better in here or out there? Michelle reaches down to her waistband for the gun.
She crutches toward them, keeping a nervous eye on the door to the main room. Michelle just stares at her plate. Nate pushes the plate back toward Howard. Nate pushes Howard back down the stairs. They'll be here any minute. Michelle walks in, dressed in a different set of clothes.
The truck keeps pace, tailgating her yet again. He sees the open window. The last one at 2:42 a. She slowly pulls down the mask on the hazmat suit before taking a breath. A thin strip of the outside world is visible along the top of the exterior stairwell -Sunlight kicks off the front end of a dented pickup which barely sticks out from behind the corner of a rundown barn. Michelle reaches over and grabs her crutch. Michelle grabs Nate around the stomach, pulls him away.
Nate kicks Howard in the ribs. Through the slit in the shower curtain Michelle watches Howard exit. Michelle looks from the wound to Howard. Howard lets go of the bottle and backs away. And my mom was stupid enough to believe it.
He turns back and hands it to Michelle. Michelle swerves across the road drunkenly. But Charlie retired years ago. A truck pulls up behind her. And the car careens over the ledge, the back tires catching and flipping it. She instinctively pulls away from his touch.
Michelle offers a smile, clinks glasses with Howard. Cold sweat runs down her face. Moves to the window -- a two story drop to the ground below. You okay in there, Michelle? She unravels the duct tape and goes back to work, sharpening it into a point. He ran me off the road that night.
Her eyes flit around the room as her confusion builds. Howard then summarily executes him and keeps on being defensive of Michelle. Howard pulls the wand in. Michelle swaps her torn, blood-crusted blouse for the tshirt. Michelle works this over in her mind, slowly shakes her head. Out of the corner of her eye, Michelle glimpses Howard furrowing his eyebrows at the sight of Nate next to her.
She reaches into a small slit on the side of her mattress and digs out a dozen pills. Michelle pushes him away clumsily. Howard gets up, heads for the stairwell. She stirs in a bolted solid room, her leg harmed while her different injuries have been dealt with. Michelle turns, offers Nate a forced smile.