EXT. CRASH SITE - DAY
A crumpled Cessna wing juts from a snowdrift like a broken bone.
LEON (9), small in a neon red snowsuit, digs frantically at the base of the wreck. His gloved hands claw at the snow.
MARY-ANNE (14), shivering in a parka that has seen better days, scans the silent, towering pines. Her breath plumes in short, nervous bursts.
Don't touch that.
Leon ignores her. He grips the strap of a dark green canvas bag wedged under the fuselage.
It's stuck.
We need to go. Now.
Leon heaves. The bag comes free with a spray of powder. He tumbles back. The bag lands heavily on his chest.
Oof. See? Not a bomb.
He sits up. Yanks the zipper. It's frozen. He digs out a multitool.
Mary-Anne steps closer, eyes darting to the grey sky.
Leave it.
Dad says finders keepers.
The zipper gives way with a GRITTY TEAR.
Leon freezes. His mouth opens.
Mary-Anne looks down. Inside the bag are bricks of cash. Hundred-dollar bills. Tightly packed.
Leon reaches in.
Don't!
She slaps his hand away.
We're rich.
People don't lose this. They come back for it.
A sound cuts the air.
Faint. A low, angry BUZZ.
Mary-Anne stiffens.
Snowmobiles.
The BUZZ grows into a distinct BRAP-BRAP-BRAP.
It's getting louder. Fast.
Mary-Anne grabs Leon’s collar. Hauls him up.
Run.
The bag!
He swings the heavy duffel over his shoulder. He staggers under the weight.
Drop it!
No!
The engine noise ROARS closer. Just beyond the trees.
Mary-Anne grabs the other strap. They stumble together into the deep powder.
EXT. FOREST - CONTINUOUS
The snow is waist-deep. Every step is a war.
Branches whip their faces.
The duffel bag swings between them like a pendulum of lead.
Behind them, the ENGINES rev down. Idling. Then a SHOUT. Indistinct but angry.
Over here. The rocks.
They scramble up a rocky outcrop. Slippery moss. The bag scrapes loudly against stone.
Mary-Anne slips. Knees hit rock. She scrambles up.
The ENGINES rev again. Closer. Entering the woods.
Leon trips. Face plants into a drift. The bag pins him.
I can't. It's too heavy.
Mary-Anne looks back. Through the trees, a flash of movement. A dark shape against the white.
She grabs the bag. Slings it over her own shoulder. She grunts under the crushing weight.
Move.
CRACK.
A GUNSHOT echoes through the timber.
Mary-Anne doesn't scream. She grabs Leon's hand. They sprint blindly into the whiteout.
EXT. RAVINE - MOMENTS LATER
They burst through a line of firs.
The ground disappears.
They tumble down a steep embankment. A blur of limbs and snow.
Mary-Anne lands hard. The bag slams into her back.
She gasps. Rolls over. Coughs up snow.
Leon points across the ravine floor.
Look.
A small, square cabin. Dark logs. Smoke curling from a stone chimney.
EXT. CABIN - MOMENTS LATER
Mary-Anne pounds on the thick wooden door.
Help us!
Silence.
She pounds again. Harder.
Please!
The door creaks. A chain holds it taut.
An eye appears. Pale blue. Surrounded by weathered wrinkles.
TED (60s) stares out. Beard wild. Eyes like flint.
Go away.
Men are chasing us. They have guns.
Ted looks at her. Then down at the green duffel bag in the snow.
He sighs. A sound like shifting gravel.
The chain rattles. The door opens.
INT. CABIN - CONTINUOUS
Dark. Smells of woodsmoke and cured fur.
Ted points to the stove.
Boots off. Don't drip.
Mary-Anne drags the bag inside. Her fingers are claws of ice.
Ted watches the bag. He walks over. Nudges it with his boot.
Open it.
Mary-Anne unzips it. The cash glows in the dim light.
Ted stares. No greed. Just exhaustion.
Trouble. The worst kind.
He moves to a camp stove. Pours black coffee into tin mugs.
Drink. Then we work.
Work?
They'll track you here. We need to change the story the snow tells.
EXT. CABIN - DUSK
The blizzard rages. Visibility is dropping.
Ted walks backward, sweeping the snow with a heavy pine bough.
He erases their footprints leading to the door.
Mary-Anne mimics him, her arms burning as she sweeps the ground smooth.
Ted stops. Points north, along the ravine edge.
He walks with a limp. Drags his left foot. Uses the bough to punch holes in the snow.
(Shouting over wind)
A limp. And a walking stick. Heading north.
He gestures for them to follow in his specific tracks.
They march. A ghost trail leading nowhere.
EXT. CABIN - NIGHT
Darkness. The wind HOWLS like a living thing.
Ted chops into a snowdrift against the cabin wall.
Dig.
Leon and Mary-Anne scoop snow with their hands and a tin plate.
They hollow out a trench behind the wall of snow blocks.
Ted throws a canvas tarp over the top. Weighs it down.
Inside.
They crawl in.
INT. SNOW TRENCH - CONTINUOUS
Cramped. Silent. The wind is muffled.
The snow saves you. Remember that.
INT. CABIN - MOMENTS LATER
Ted packs a rucksack. Compass. Knife. Thermos.
He picks up the duffel bag.
We're taking it?
Bait. And burden. If we leave it, they might stay to look for witnesses.
He hands Mary-Anne a hand axe. Hands Leon a coil of rope.
He straps wooden snowshoes to his boots.
Tie the rope to your waists. Watch my feet. Do not look up.
EXT. WILDERNESS - NIGHT
A white void. No sky. No ground.
Ted is a shadow ahead. The rope is the only lifeline.
Mary-Anne keeps her head down. Watches Ted's snowshoes. Left. Right.
Leon stumbles. Disappears into the powder.
Ted hauls on the rope. Drags him up. Pushes him forward.
They march.
Time blurs.
Ted stops.
He points.
A tiny yellow rectangle glows in the distance.
EXT. RANGER STATION - NIGHT
A log building. A porch light struggles against the storm.
Ted stops at the treeline.
He unties the rope. Shoulders the duffel bag off. Hands it to Mary-Anne.
Go.
You're coming in?
I don't do uniforms.
He looks at the bag.
Get rid of it. Soon.
He turns. Steps back into the whiteout.
Ted!
He's gone. Dissolved into the storm.
Mary-Anne stands alone with Leon. The bag is heavy in her hands.
She grips Leon's hand. They stumble toward the light.
INT. RANGER STATION - NIGHT
Warmth. Blinding light.
A FEMALE RANGER gasps. Rushes forward.
My God. Get blankets!
Mary-Anne slides the duffel bag under the wooden bench. Out of sight.
She sits. Shivering violently.
The Ranger kneels before her.
You're safe. What happened? How did you get here?
Mary-Anne looks at the Ranger.
She looks at the black window. The swirling snow.
She says nothing.
FADE OUT.