55.
Nothing. The safety's on. Walt fumbles with it, trying to figure it out. This takes him just long enough that ••• ••• The sirens are revealed to be FIRE ENGINES. Not the cops. Two big pumper trucks curve past us, following a dirt road through the pasture we didn't see until now. They roar on by, none of the firemen taking the slightest notice of Walt. They're heading for Krazy-8's brush fire a mile away. We can see the crooked column of SMOKE from here. The SIRENS and the ROAR fade away. Gradually, the pasture grows silent again. Walt stares stupidly, the pistol dangling at his side. He lets it drop to the dirt. He stands blinking, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Pure, dumb luck. Beginner's luck. As he stands here, the door to the RV opens behind him. Dupree stumbles out, pulls off his gas mask. Half his face is swollen like a balloon, but he'll recover. Dupree wanders over, stands next to Walt. Dazed silence. DUPREE What happened •• ? (nods toward the RV) W-What'd you do? Walt is weirdly matter-of-fact.
W~T Red phosphorus, when heat is applied.•• oxidizes and yields carbonyl chloride. Phosgene gas. One good whiff of it.••
He shrugs, trails off. Folds at the waist and THROWS UP. Dupree stands staring at nothing in particular. Walt rises, wipes his mouth. He picks up his W~LET and CAMCORDER.
W~T Gotta. Gotta clean this up. Gotta ••• bury ••.
He slowly wanders back to the Winnebago. Dupree follows him. Off our two new partners, who have only barely survived their first week together ••• DISSOLVE TO:
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