Cityscape

EXT. MUSEUM FRONT ENTRANCE - YEAR 2032

A hooded figure bursts out the front doors with a heavy breath. She hastily looks left and right at the surrounding marble-paved streets, then starts moving forward.

The name RUSSEL is stitched in red across her jacket’s back. ALARMS BLARE from the museum behind her, and she breaks into a run past towering buildings and gold-cast street lamps. SIRENS WAIL in the distance, and Russel takes a hard right coming face-to-face with a ladder. Above it, TO LOWER CITY desperately flickers in a fading neon glow. Russel swings herself around the ladder and descends into a manhole with a SCREECH.

EXT. LOWER CITY LANDING

A ladder stretches down from a circular illuminated hole in the sky; an alleyway with dirt-caked pavement rests at the bottom of the ladder.

Russel lands with a light thud on the ground and looks up. Red and blue lights alternately illuminate Russel’s face and we hear the shuffle of boots growing closer. Russel takes off down the alley and turns a corner where the alley opens up to a wide street lined with shops.

Just out of the alley stands a massive machine repair shop. The shop itself looks like a massive machine, with giant gears turning throughout its facade--sparks shooting out from seemingly random junctures. An impending neon sign screams METAL RECYCLER, illuminating most of the street in a hazy red glow.

Russel clings to the shadows on the opposite side of a street and pushes her way forward past the grinding shop. The BUSTLE OF A CROWD grows louder with each step.

EXT. LOWER CITY MARKET - CONTINUOUS

As Russel pushes forward, she comes across a grocer packed with vendors auctioning off stacks of food. To her right, genetically grown chickens mutated to the size of turkeys are bought up in a frenzy. To her left, row and row of fruity soaps waste away on their cobweb covered stacks.

Russel weaves her way in and out of the crowd, avoiding the acrid puffs of smoke coming out of the back of stalls. All of a sudden, just past one more crowd, there it is: the end of the market is in sight.

Then, as if the world were conspiring to help Russel’s escape, all the members of the mob part cleanly down the middle. As she cautiously steps into the alleyway of bodies, she’s met by a lone figure standing between her and her exit. A silver gleam of light bounces off the figure’s chest revealing a silver crest, embossed with a bold LOWER CITY POLICE FORCE.

Russel rushes the man and barrels into him, knocking him onto the muddy tracks of the market’s crowds. There the two wrestle, observed by a nearly silent audience. After a moment's struggle, Russel tears herself free of the officer and races into the alley, leaving the mud-caked figure behind.

EXT. BACK ALLEY

An imposing locked gate stands at the end of an alley. Tarnished steel peaks out behind layers of chipped paint. Metal letters reading RESIDENTIAL ACCESS ONLY are welded onto the front, changed color long ago from years of graffiti.

Without slowing, Russel pulls a phone out of her pants pocket, dials a few numbers, and the gate CREAKS to life. After a few shuddering feet, the gate begins to smoke and whir, slowing it to a halt. It’s just enough for Russel to squeeze through the gap, and she does just that.

EXT. RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT

Russel backyard hops through desolated and run-down backyards, one after the other--we match cut with each one. The scenes cut faster and faster as she leaps through more of the Lower City yards.

SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. LOWER CITY YARD

Three overweight and sweaty men sit at a table, playing cards. It looks like they’ve been sitting in those same seats for years.

JIMMY

All I’m saying is it’s an easy score. We walk in, wave a Pistol Lance around in a few people’s faces, and walk out with all the money. It’s as easy as that.

FRANCIS

Nothing in this damn town is that easy anymore, Jimmy. Hell, we haven’t even walked in the last three years, much less left the house.

FRANK

Yeah, and where are you going to get a Pistol Lance, Jimmy, you idiot? The markets?

JIMMY

Yeah, Frank, maybe I’ll do just that. Or maybe, I’ve got one right here!

Jimmy pulls the PISTOL LANCE out of his pocket and SLAMS it on the table right as a pair of shoes land on the table, sending the contents of the ongoing card game flying everywhere. The gun fires into the yard and all three men at the table fall backward, flailing in their chairs. We pan up from the shoes to rest on Russel, who jumps the fence in a vault and lands in a field on the other side.

EXT. FARM CHURCH - CONTINUOUS

A colonial church--ten times the size you were originally thinking it was--towers to the sky. The fields surrounding it are full of crops ready to harvest. Russel quickly passes through the pumpkins to a small back house behind the church.

The sound of a running shower and a voice humming Aretha Franklin’s Son of a Preacher Man drift out of the back house. Russel swipes a pair of white robes and a Papal mitre hat hanging on a hook outside the house, and throws them over her mud-caked clothes. With one swift movement, she throws open the church’s backdoor in her newly dawned disguise and steps into the cathedral.

INT. ST. CRISTA CATHEDRAL

GREGORIAN CHANTING rings through the high arched ceilings as a mass of red-robed Cardinals march in circles around the pews.

When Russel enters the room, The Cardinals, in unison, make a guttural grunting sound, and lower their eyes so as to not meet with hers. They continue to march in circles, chanting softer now but moving faster.

Russel, maintaining her disguise, moves straight down the center aisle to the front doors of the church, and busts through them before anyone can slow her down. Behind her, all the Cardinals stop marching and look up at her as she reaches the opposite door to realize she’s not their pope. They begin to uproar. Shouts of “where are you going?” and “grab that imposter!” assault her.

EXT. ST. CRISTA CATHEDRAL - CONTINUOUS

Russel slams the giant church doors closed behind her, rips off her hat, and takes off down the massive front staircase without a glance backward. She finds the closest door and disappears inside.

INT. PHARMA FACTORY

Glass beakers and vials bubble and fizz throughout the room. Scientists mumble among themselves and scribble notes on their respective clipboards. Their lab coats are almost glowing they’re so white.

Russel busts in followed by her billowing robes, and freezes. The entire room stares at Russel--even the beakers seem to stop their stewing as the room simmers to a silence.

The collection of scientists erupts into pandemonium, summoning security officers, and setting off alarms. A beaker falls to the ground and upon shattering, starts a snapping pink fire on the tile floor. Russel just makes it to the glass doors across the room just as security guards flood the room from the door she had previously entered.

EXT. LOWER CITY STREETS

With only a few seconds head start, Russel disappears into the maze of alleyways outside the Lab. She ducks right, then left, through an archway and under a staircase. The shouts of security guards, ever behind her. She knocks over a trash can as she passes it, then jumps a low fence covered in ivy.

After a few more corners, the shouts of the guards finally seem to dissipate, and Russel collapses out of breath behind a heap of compact trash cubes. Russel clutches at her jacket pocket trying to make sure her prize is still secure under her robes. She reaches into her pocket and clutches her prize in her hand, catching her breath. As her breathing slows, she risks a look at it and opens her palm to reveal a HEART-SHAPED LOCKET.

As the hinges of the locket unfold, A FADED PHOTO of a family of four, framed by a modest Victorian house and with a red pickup truck in the driveway stares up at Russel. The other half of the locket is an etched inscription that reads: Russel Family Home 2012.

POLICE OFFICER (O.C.)

There she is!

Russel shoves the locket back in her pocket, and dashes away from the pounding boots. She soars out of the alley at top speed and sprints across a sheer flat surface towards the edge of a looming cliff. Russel reaches the edge and looks over the edge of the city to the jet black water, hundreds of feet below.

Helicopters rise above the city, setting their sites on Russel. As they approach her position, an army of police officers and security guards explode out of the alley behind her. As the helicopters loom menacingly in the air, and the boots come screeching to a stop, Russel gives one last look over the cliff behind her. A voice booms from one of the helicopters.

DISEMBODIED VOICE

You thought it would be that simple, did you? You thought you could just steal from one of our museums, and get away with it? And dressed like the Pope nonetheless; you’re not the Pope, Russel #424--you’re nothing. Just another citizen that thought she was better than the system. Another renegade in an otherwise flawless--

Russel falls backward off the cliff. A few Police Officers rush forward to catch her, but they’re too late.

DISEMBODIED VOICE (CONT’D)

Recover the body and make sure it’s disposed of.

An Officer nods his agreement and walks up to the cliff edge. The Officer hesitates, then leans over the abyss only to be knocked backward by a RUSHING ZOOM.

Russel rides a jet-propulsion motorcycle like it’s her royal steed. She soars straight up, knocking the officer backward, and with a few swipes of her phone’s keypad...

DISEMBODIED VOICE (CONT’D)

Somebody stop her! Open fi--AGHHHHHH.

The helicopter veers into a second helicopter, exploding in a bright BANG. The order to open fire brought to a halt by the raining shrapnel dousing the crowd of officers. With a shift of gears and a yank of the throttle, Russel rights the bike and soars off into the sunset.

FADE OUT.