EXT.
BUSY MANCHESTER STREET-MORNING
A small
Chinese lady- YANYAN- discreetly approaches passing shoppers,
flashing the contents of a small satchel. She constantly looks around
warily, as if she shouldn’t be there. Tom approaches.
DAVE
(V/O)
She’s
in the same spot, seven days a week, come rain or shine. She’ll
approach anyone, and she’ll sell and sell and sell. But as soon as
any police show up…
Two
PCSOs stroll down the street. They’ve not noticed her, but she’s
noticed them. She backs away discreetly down a side street.
DAVE
(V/O)
She’s
gone.
She
walks over to Tom.
DAVE (V/O)
She’s
part of the team, but she’s your responsibility.
TOM
Okay…?
DAVE
Seriously.
Anything goes wrong with her- sorry to say it but it’s your neck on
the line.
Tom’s
shattered, stood in the middle of the street- right outside the Job
Centre, where we previously saw him enter. Tom blows his nose. His
eyes are reddened from hay fever. He looks around slowly as the
shoppers rush by.
She
opens the satchel in front of Tom- DVD DISCS, all compact in plastic
sleeves.
YANYAN
Want
films? Got action, comedy, sci-fi…
She
flips through a CD wallet with twenty discs inside, each covered with
a badly printed image. They’re obviously pirate copies. She flips
to the back of the stack.
YANYAN
Got
porn…
Tom cuts
her off.
TOM (a
lot louder than her)
Are
you Yanyan?
She
freezes, and can’t take her eyes off the floor.
TOM
Yeah,
I thought so. My name’s Tom. I’m gonna be helping you out from
now on. You have any problems, you call me on this, okay?
Tom
hands out his business card for the first time. Tom’s proud smile
slips when Yanyan hands back her card- it's the same design. It’s
just a card.
TOM
I’ve
got something for you here.
Out of
his briefcase Tom pulls another CD case like Yanyan’s, and hands it
to her.
TOM
Dave
said you’ve got something for me?
Yanyan
looks nervously at him.
TOM
Well,
come on. I can’t go back empty handed, can I?
TOM
(V/O)
Where
the fuck is this coming from?
YANYAN
Cross
road.
Tom
looks around for any reason why he should.
TOM
Why?
YANYAN
No,
really. Cross road.
They
cross.
TOM
Hey
Yanyan. You know a guy called Devant?
YANYAN
Can't
talk about that.
TOM
Come
on, I'm trying to figure this out. We're on the same team. (More
serious) What is this, Yanyan? Dave and Tony won't tell me anything.
I'll help you if you help me.
YANYAN
You
can't help me.
TOM
Okay.
Business time.
Yanyan
pulls a wad of tenners out of her pocket. Tom holds his hand out and
grips them, but Yanyan won’t let go. Instead she looks up at Tom,
then over her shoulder. Then she quickly leans forward and tries to
bite Tom’s hand, still holding on to the money.
TOM
Argh!
What the fuck?!
Tom
checks over his shoulder. People are too busy rushing from shop to
shop in droves to pay any attention. He gives Yanyan a slap and she
lets go of him. Tom checks his hand.
TOM
(quiet)
Crazy
bitch.
Tom
feels a sneeze coming on…
Sneeze.
BOOM.
A
fraction of a second after he sneezes, the Job Centre over the road
explodes.
The
people closest to the blast are engulfed in fire. Most die quickly,
but one CASH GUARD walking towards the bank next door is blown back
by a section of door frame, his head protected by the helmet. He
lands on a passing car in the street, still alive. The blast pushed
him away from the building, but the front half of his body is
scorched, clothing torn away. He might live to tell the tale.
CU- TOM
FLASH
FRAME- ROYAL APARTMENTS
Tom has
been thrown to the floor and has landed on Yanyan, who’s jabbering
away in Mandarin trying to get him off her. He’s completely dazed.
As the smoke clears and the screaming starts, he tries to stand up.
The Job
Centre building is on fire and the area around it ruined. The pipes
underneath it are split and human waste is spewing forth through the
remains of the building and into the street.
Oversized
rats, grown obese on the city's waste, scuttle out into the street
over the bodies, eating them. Some rodents are the size of small
cats.
Tom
ditches Yanyan and struggles to his feet, tripping over a dismembered
foot. He looks around- within seconds a crowd has gathered watching
in horrified fascination. They are watching him- a survivor. He walks
off down a side street.
Tom
runs. He passes the 'Your-self” self-storage centre he’d dropped
a package off at. A car has been thrown onto the entrance section of
the building. The framework of the car has been ripped outwards and
sections of it act like claws, hanging onto the window frames of the
building. It burns, spreading into the entrance.
Tom runs
down a back street. He can see the Royal Apartments. He’s almost
home.
A BLACK
VAN screeches to a halt in front of him. Two balaclava- wearing men,
dressed in black, swing the doors open. They dive at him from either
side and pin his arms to his body.
TOM
Get
the fuck off me! I haven’t done anything!
They
throw him in the van and jump in after him. One checks the street as
he shuts the door from inside.
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